Archives
Omission
Reading my blog I realised that I hadn't let you all know how thick I am. That Fisher-Price arch. Bought new batteries, still didn't work. Decided Hubby could explore it's inner workings and see if he could sort it. Took it to pieces, all the contacts seemed fine, printed circuit board looked OK, but who can tell, fiddled about, still no life in it. Decided it was knackered so reassembled it, with batteries still in. As is my temperament when something stops working, I hit it, it does work sometimes, and it did this time,the arch sprang into life, playing music and flashing lights. Experimented a bit more, and found that it's supposed to work that way, baby kicking it starts it off. How blonde am I? Well, actually I'm not, I'm a red-head, this month, but that might change! Talking Fisher-Price, The Kick and Play Bouncer, it's the most wonderful chair, vibrates, plays music, has flashing lights, and best of all, it has the power to make Jack stop crying when nothing else will, I bought ours off E-Bay for £15, a wonderful investment.
Yesterday was thrilling. Went over to Nevada Bobs and Hubby got his new spikes, also spent ages looking at new clubs, but I had the credit card clutched firmly in my fist. Then, driving home we passed an American Golf Discount shop, joy of joys, another half hour spent looking at racks of clubs and admiring a computerised golf driving range. I felt I had done my wifely bit, so had no hesitation in requesting a visit to a garden centre, where I wandered happily and bought plants for my pots and baskets. Thats how I spent the rest of the day, 'doing' my baskets. Bliss.
Have you noticed? No grumbles about work. Thats because I'm having a week off. The whinging won't start again until Friday.
The nightmare that is shopping
My feet are killing me. I have a raging headache and I feel sooo depressed. Let this be a warning to any other Mother whose daughter asks her to go shopping for 'something really special' to wear. Youngest daughter, the one who had a baby 5 weeks ago, is going to a wedding reception on Saturday. Understandably she wants to look good, even more understandable when you know that it is her partners ex who is the bride. On the way to the shopping centre I tried dropping hints about slight changes in your figure, what looked good before you had baby may not look quite as good now. Remember that your boobs are twice the size and need support. I'm perhaps painting a bleak picture. Really she looks very good, whether she had just had a baby or not. All the extra pounds have gone, and the tummy, although not like a washboard, is not flabby. Basically it's the boobs though, what were 36E are now 36G. We went into shops, and out of shops, then back into the same shops. Then Jack got fed-up and started wailing. She fed him. He still wailed. She got upset, I told her to carry on round the shops and I would go off with him, he wouldn't stop crying. It ended up with me pushing the pushchair with one hand and holding him in the other arm. Eventually he fell asleep, so I found her again and we recommenced our venture. It took 5 hours, but we did it. She has an outfit she is happy about.
I had a mission as well. It is her 21st Birthday in 10 days, and I needed to buy her a special present. Luckily one of the shop windows that Jack liked was a jewellers, all the sparkly things I guess. Anyway, he and I were standing there, admiring 'the pretties', when I saw it. A white gold bracelet with little diamonds deep set. Quite delicate, not her usual choice, but matches her eternity ring beautifully. I called her over and asked her what she would like for her birthday - and she said she wanted a bracelet. I called out an assistant and daughter pointed out a few bracelets that she liked, and that was one of them! It was wonderful. I kept quiet whilst she tried them on, and then she chose..........the one I had thought I would like to buy her. She loves it, but she is not allowed to have it until her birthday, I'm mean like that.
Now the grumble. Why don't people control their children in shops? In one shop there was loads of the merchandise lying on the floor. Soon found out why. There were two children, aged about 5 taking the clothes off the racks, throwing them on the floor and then stamping on them to try and break the hangers! Mum and Dad were about 6 feet away paying absolutely no attention to them. When daughter bent down to pick up one of the things on the floor one of the children pushed her and I said 'don't do that'. Mum immediately told me to mind my own f*****g business. I was about to respond when daughter grabbed me and the pushchair and walked quickly out of the shop. Apparently I should just ignore things like that otherwise I 'might regret it', also, I mustn't look at people. Add to that the hoards of pre-pubescent boys, loitering, leering and swearing, and one throwing-up to the strings of lotita's marching along, forcing everyone else to move out of their way and I have this insane urge to send any child, over the age of 5, to a boot camp and forcing their parents to undertake some kind of training programme. Help, I've just turned into my Mother. Lock me up, save yourselves.
Fuel Protest
Do I back the fuel protest? Yes
Why? Because as a community midwife I use my own car for work. On an average day I can do anything from 40 - 80 miles in the course of my work. This does not include home to base miles. I am paid a mileage allowance which, to my knowledge, has not increased in six years. How much has petrol gone up in that time? By my logic I am actually subsidising the NHS, aka the government because every time the fuel prices go up I take a drop in earnings.
Fact
Digestive biscuits were originally made as an aid to control flatulence.
The art of bottle-feeding.
Last night I was left with Jack. His Mummy and Daddy went to a wedding reception leaving me with one baby, 5ozs of breast milk and a bottle (complete with Nuk teat - thanks Minks 
. I had concerns anyway as I was 1st on-call with two home births due but I knew Grandad was up to the task, if required. They left at 7.45 and all was well, for 5minutes. Jack then decided that he was hungry, out came the bottle, he sucked eagerly, for 1 minute, then cottoned-on that 1) This was not a breast 2) It was not Mummy. He stopped sucking and screamed, and screamed. We went for a walk around the garden, changed his nappy, he calmed down. Half an hour later he was throwing a real paddy, only stopping when his mouth came into contact with anything when he would suck for a second and then recommence screaming. Bottle, into the mouth, frown, suck, pull away then...he started sucking and finished the lot. Smiles galore, happy bunny, happy nanny, for about 10 minutes then screaming again. Grandad chose this moment to announce that he was just 'popping' round to see his friend whose birthday it was. Quick debate about the feasability of this idea, given that I might be summoned to a home birth at any moment, it's OK, he'll only be half-an-hour and he has got his mobile. Eventually gave Jack 10mls of boiled water, he was fooled. His little eyes flickered, his clenched fists relaxed and he fell asleep. It was 9.45pm. Put him in his Moses basket and flopped. The phone rang 'Oh, s**t'. It was Mummy Jack checking up, she sounded very tipsy, you could say drunk. I proudly reported that he was fast asleep, advised her to slow down on the alcohol and assured her that he had been no trouble at all. He stayed asleep until Mummy and Daddy returned, at midnight. Mummy was extremely happy, only 4 glasses of wine had made her really 'bladdered'. They were staying the night and off they went upstairs, I heard Jack crying and I felt really sorry for her. This morning I got up for work and there she was having breakfast and feeding Jack. I sympathised about Jack waking as soon as they returned, 'We woke him up for a cuddle', is she mad? Wake up a sleeping baby, you can tell they are novices. Anyway, I'm not going to tell her that Nanny gave Jack water, or that it took me 2 hours to settle him, I shall let her carry on thinking that I am the whizz when it comes to babies, us Nannies should always appear invincible.
It has been a tiring three days all in all. Emergency visits to Mothers and Step-Fathers in Somerset. Visits with Mother are always a trial, she believes she is right about everything, whilst I KNOW I am. Looking after Jack, being on-call last night and then working today, after 10 days of moving at my own pace, my system is shocked into a state of lethargy which only a good dose of BB tonight will satisfy.
Questions
When I put my grass shears away last year they were sharp. Now they are blunt. How? What happened to them during the winter? Were they transported to a different time zone where some midwifemuse used them frantically? If so, why didn't she have the good grace to have them sharpened before they returned to this midwifemuse?
Money saver
For some time now I have been considering radical cosmetic surgery. You know the sort of thing, face lift, boob job, liposuction, tummy tuck, hair extensions, orthopaedic surgery to lengthen my legs, just basically creating a me that never was. Always worried about the expense though. Watching TV last night a cheaper alternative was presented to me. All I have to do is go on a Virgin Atlantic 1st class journey and it will happen. Yes, according to the advert I will get on the plane one side of the atlantic, and by the time the plane lands all my imperfections will have disappeared. I could see one problem, I would be stuck in America, but then hubby pointed out that I could fly over on a cheap flight and then return Ist Class, so all the changes would be conducted during my return passage. Thats it then, I'm booking later on today, if anyone else is interested we might get discount for group travel so leave your names here.