Mom/Mum's Alphabet

It's been so long since I've properly updated, that here's a summary of recent life chez Mom/Mum, A-Z style...


A is for...Another expensive Holiday. Me and Him Downstairs gave ourselves a rough credit-crunch budget this year, vowing not to go overboard on the boys Christmas presents. Twenty-four hours later, I totally blew that budget by spending $400 in the grocery store getting (some!) of the food and goodies in, and then coming home to spend even more on the toy offers Amazon.com had this year. And that was all before December 13th. Whoops. We are living off bread and water for January, due to my shopping addiction.



B is for...Birthday and bowling. Cheeky turned four this Christmas. He wanted a party with his friends at the local bowling lanes. 18 little ones let loose with heavy bowling balls, pizza and ice cream, made for a fun and fraught start to my holiday season. But, he went home happy and full of sugar frosting, with even more toys and Santa hadn't even been yet. I need a bigger house now just to cope with the amount of Hot Wheels race track, Thomas rail track and GeoTrax train track that has now taken over my life. Oh and then we did the whole gift and family celebration thing again, on his actual birthday which falls on Dec 28th. Our paper mountain this time of year is out of control. As is he. And what did he want to do on his birthday, apart from eat more cake? A train ride. On a real steam train. Wish granted. Happy four year-old. Very tired and poor parents. Note to self, never get pregnant in March again.


C is for...Camping. No, we weren't foolish enough to actually put the tent outside in the snow. It went in the basement playroom so the boys could have a Christmas camp-out. (Plus it gave Grandma and Pops the opportunity to dust-off their pitching skills.) They were happy campers. Lots of fun was had, lots of sleep was not.

D is for...Drains. Blocked drains. Obviously you can't have a Christmas without one major household appliance breakdown. Our special gift from Santa this year was my father walking into my laundry room after Boxing Day lunch (26th Dec for you Americans) to discover a very wet floor and smelly dirty water bubbling up from my floor drain. Nice. This meant the dishwasher and washing machine had to be turned off instantly. Cue swearing and moaning from yours truly and the announcement from my Dad and my husband that no-one should flush the toilet, run a tap or have a bath or shower. With six of us in the house, this news wasn't greeted with any Christmas goodwill or cheer.

The blessing was, as Americans don't recognise Boxing Day as a holiday, a plumber was available and because we'd just paid our home warranty insurance (phew) this whole dirty smelly mess only cost us $75 instead of the $600 the plumber would have charged for putting his big machine down my drain pipe.


E is for... Eggnog. Now, according to Wikipedia, "Eggnog is a popular drink throughout the US, and is usually associated with winter celebrations such as Christmas and New Year. Commercially, non-alcoholic eggnog is available around Christmas time and during the winter." I also read that historically it is thought to have originated from East Anglia, England. My birthplace. Therefore, when in Rome and all, I bought some. Laite du poule it is apparently.(Literally, 'milk of hen'.) I love milk of cow. But this? No thanks. Never again. Someone add the brandy or whisky to make it more interesting.

F is for... Fire. A real one in your living room hearth. Essential it turns out when you have a power cut after a huge storm and therefore no heating or hot water on your son's birthday. We were only without power for about eight hours. 44,000 homes in our area were without it for three days. Eek. And where did Cheeky choose to de-camp to get warm before his birthday train ride? Chuck E bloody Cheese! Americans reading this, will know the horror that chilled me to my bones more than the lack of heat in my house, when he uttered those words. For you UK-ers, Chuck E Cheese is the naffest of naff 'family playgrounds'. Indoor arcade and toddler games and rubber pizza. Plus probably every germ you can imagine, just waiting to pounce on you. It has to be a special occasion for me to go there. A very special occasion!

G is for... Gavin and Stacey. A dear friend gave us the best Christmas present ever this year - a copy of the Gavin and Stacey Christmas Special. Missing out on some of the new Brit TV comedy shows (save the ones that make it onto BBC America) is one of my big gripes for not being chez UK. Me and Him Downstairs have thoroughly enjoyed our Tuesday nights cosied up together with Gavin, Stacey, Nessa and Smithy once it finally aired it over here, but we were gutted not to have seen the Xmas special. So, "At the end of the day....when all's said and done" it was "tidy" to unwrap this hilarious DVD.

H is for... Huckleberry Railroad This railroad, north of where we live, has the most magical Christmas event and is the place Cheeky chose to visit for his fourth birthday. So, with mittens scarves and plenty of layers, off we trundled. We rode a steam train which kept the birthday boy transfixed and the quietest we saw him over the whole holiday period! Result. We ate hot dogs and drank hot cocoa, rode a 1912 carousel and smiled at the charm of the Victorian houses all lit up with their twinkling lights. We also saw the naffest kids magic show, ever. He fooled all those under 4ft, but not us. But, the nicest thing was that it gave Grandma and Pops the chance to experience an old fashioned American railroad 'village,' and share their Grandson's special day with him. Only the second time this has been possible.

I is for...Insatiable appetite. Not mine. (See, I may be rubbish at posting on BlogToFit, but it is having a positive effect on my once outrageous eating habits.)No, my father is the one who turned out the be the two-legged eating machine this holiday. I thought I kept the fridge and larder constantly stocked with plenty of nibbles, breakfast, lunch and dinner options for the three, yes, THREE, weeks my parents were visiting us. But, this man, was out and about at every grocery and deli store he could find bringing home more dips and delights than my poor fridge could handle. How he didn't go to bed every night in a fog of nausea, I really don't know. How I managed to resist the temptation of some of the goodies he wafted under my nose, is worthy of a BlogToFit medal.

J is for...Jingle Bells. To hear Cheeky singing this every time Santa got mentioned was lovely. But, to hear Monkey sing along too, was enchanting. A whole verse, with all the words sung from his little heart. This from my littlest prince who, two months ago, could barely string his first sentences together. Hearing him talking so much now has taken our relationship to an even more special place. We can argue now.

K is for...Knitting. OK, so I already 'fessed up in a previous post that I have taken up a new hobby. And I've already been laughed at for it. Yes, I'm talking to you, Tara at Sticky Fingers!But, please let me explain, before you all have me down for being an OAP. You see, I come from a long line of Mom/Mum women who have knitted, crotched, sewed and quilted their little hearts out. Then along came I and the gene pool forgot to give me my quota of interest or ability in such crafts. My Nanny tried to kick start some knit-life into me and let me loose in her sewing room once. This just resulted in a painful trip to the emergency room to remove some curtain rings I got stuck on six of my fingers. And ever since I became pregnant, my mum tried to encourage me to make something for my babies, whilst she produced beautiful knitwear, quilts, tapestry nursery pictures and clothes, quicker than I had contractions.

Then the knitting revolution happened, and now, such is the metamorphosis of an ancient craft once dismissed as the preserve of doting grannies and bored housewives, knitting has been hailed as ‘the new yoga.’ When I read that celebs like Madonna, Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, Cameron Diaz, Hilary Swank and Uma Thurman are all doing amazing things with two sticks and a ball of yarn, I thought, 'Maybe I will have a go.' Also, nearly all my friends here knit and I hated missing their gossipy nights out knitting at a local coffee shop. So, I'm now a knitter with L-plates, much to my mother's pleasure and my husband's amusement.

L is for...Lots of snow! Hoorah, it was a wonderful white Christmas, and the snow has continued to bathe our garden in a lovely deep white blanket. So, we got Grandma and Pops (who live in Spain, and definitely are more used to sun, sea and sand than snow) down the sledging hill as often as we could. By March I'll be tearing my hair out over the white stuff, but for now, I'll enjoy every flake.

M is for... Minivan Mom. Ever since I moved to North America, I've fought the inevitable and not got a minivan (people carrier). virtually every Mom round my way, drives on and I can see their many advantages - loads of space for kids, bikes, dogs, groceries, Dad's DIY stuff and the opportunity to carpool on the school run. However, there is nothing cool about them whatsoever. And there's no escaping looking like a middle-aged bus driver when you're behind the wheel.

But this Christmas, the opportunity arose for us to get a more family sized vehicle than the little car we've been squeezing ourselves into. So, as I held my new keys, I squeezed my eyes shut, and screamed, "Noooooooo!" as I leaped of the ledge of cool and fell into the waters of 'Minivan Mom'.

Have to admit, though, having in-built DVD players in the car is a Godsend when you have two grouchy boys as passengers. And for saddo me, that is pretty cool!

N is for... New York City. Now, I don't want to go on too much about this (as this post is turning out to be mammoth enough) but it's definitely worth mentioning that me and Him Downstairs spent four days and three whole nights away from our kids just before Christmas in this glorious city. Yeah, a big deal. And yeah, something we've been waiting for ever since we got married, when we got to move countries and have a second baby rather than go on a honeymoon.

Dinners out at cosy bistros and bustling trendy eateries, with not a kids menu in sight - yeeeehaaaa! Carriage rides round Central Park, art galleries, the Empire State at night, ferry ride round the island, all an absolute pleasure. Every last second of our trip was magical. NYC at Christmas is a twinkling, snowy wonder-city. It was impossible not to have a good time, even when I got drunk and over-emotional and picked a fight with him, for no reason whatsoever. Guess the crazy-woman in me figured, things can't be this nice, so better ruin them for a few hours! When will I learn?

But, he's lovely, so he forgave me. The romance button was once again switched on and the rest of our trip passed without a cross word. He even let me prance up and down the steps of the New York Public Library to re-enact the heartache Carrie felt when Big left her standing alone in a wedding dress, with a bird on her head.

I can't recommend NYC for a romantic get-away-from-the-kids enough. And the homecoming welcome we got from the boys was the icing on the cake.

O is for...Ola! The Spanish words the boys learnt from their grandparents over the holidays means I am now greeted with 'Ola' every morning, and thanked with 'gracias' regularly. Never before did I have my boys down for linguists.

P is for...Parents. Yes, they came and they stayed and then they went away again. Thank goodness! Not to be disrespectful, but the advantage of not living in the same country as your folks is that they obviously don't infiltrate in your everyday life very often. The disadvantage is, when they do visit, they stay for maaaanny weeks. I love having them here, I love seeing them re-bond with their grandchildren and I really love the on-site babysitting they offer. But, boy, do I love getting the house back to ourselves when they are gone.

Q is for...Lightning McQueen. Why oh why did I buy Monkey a build-it-yourself Lightning McQueen? That bloody toy has become the bain of my Christmas and New Year. Grrr.

R is for... Resolutions. New Years Resolutions. Mine are ashamedly exactly the same this year as they were last year:
1)Be more patient with the kids.
2)Play more with the kids.
3)Eat healthier.
4)Exercise more.
5)Visit England.
6)Stick to my resolutions!

S is for...Santa. Ah the white-bearded one had an amazing affect on Cheeky and Monkey this year. Usually, with one glimpse of a bespectacled man in a big red suit, the boys fly into a frenzy of fear and run in the opposite direction. But what difference a year makes. This time when we visited Santa, they went running towards him and couldn't get their Christmas wishes out quick enough. Thankfully, he complied with most of them and now they think he is almost as great as GeoTrax.

T is for...Turkey and trifle. After my Thanksgiving practise as doing a turkey dinner, I was all confident that Christmas lunch would repeat my November success. It did, kind of, except for the fact I forgot to check the bird's rear end and therefore missed the plastic bag of giblets hiding up there. Whoops. My debut trifle-making, however passed without incident and found six very comfy spots in the bottom of our stomachs.

U is for... Unwelcome visit. Ours was from the stomach flu that got 3/4 of my family over New Years. Normal healthy service was resumed on Wednesday. Does that kind of weight-loss activity count at BlogToFit I wonder?

V is for... Video game. Santa was very kind to us this year and bought our family a Wii. This was a real hit and even had my dad putting down his plate of heart-attack-inducing munchies to get up and play bowling. Grandma joined in. I got more strikes than I ever do on the real lanes and we all got beaten mercilessly by one of Cheeky's five year old friends! To say we're addicted to our Wii is an understatement...

W is for...Wall-E. The little Pixar Pictures robot who totally took over my Christmas TV viewing. Yes, the animation and effects are great and yes, the love story between him and Eve is rather sweet and the environmental warnings being sent through the story are indeed food-for-thought. But boy, it's a boring movie isn't it? Especially when you've had to watch it practically every day since December 25th. And I was the fool who purchased it in the first place...

X is for... X-cessive Xmas. X-cessive presents. X-cessive food. X-cessive costs. X-cessive snow. X-cessive excitement (from the boys.) Then x-cessive patience (needed by Mummy and Daddy when all this Xmas excitement over-whelmed them.) All in all, Xmas 08, was the a Christmas with the X factor.

Z is for... ZZZZZZZsss. Lots of them. After everything that's been going on chez Mom/Mum, I need a month load of sleep don't I?

Seven/sept/sette/siete/sieben is the magic number!

What a lovely end to the week, when you wake up to the sound of trumpets rejoicing you and the gleam of new bling landing 'plomp!' on your blog.

OK, so the ringing in my ears was the in fact Cheeky and Monkey's usual opera for milk, but the arrival of new bling is bona fide. The lovely Nappy Valley Girl has graciously awarded me with a Superior Scribbler award. What a fantastic early Christmas present. Thank you very muchly NVG!

Plus, Nappy Valley Girl and my fellow home-improvements 'sister' Hadriana, from Hadriana's Treasures, also tagged me to write some lists of sevens. So, as I've sadly got nothing better to do with my Friday night, here they are.

(To mix it up a bit, as 'tis the season and all, I've given some of my 7s a Christmas theme. Forgive me, but I've got AOL Radio Christmas music on and my Chrissie tree lights are a-twinkling...)

7 things I plan to do before my parents arrive next week for Christmas

1. Buy their Christmas presents. (This includes remembering to collect the mugs the boys have made for them, with their own special brand of toddler artwork.)

2. Wash their bedding, dust and hoover their bedroom.

3. Empty out their closet, which is currently full of cobwebs, old files, papers and various mystery cables and leads Him Downstairs and I have no idea what they are for.

4. Wash the cushion and couch covers in the living room. They once were cream. They are now taupe.

5. Take the garden furniture into the garage. My parents will be appalled to see our summer outside toys, table, sun brolly and chairs covered in snow and rotting in the backyard. Hey - autumn kind of flew by.

6. Learn to cook. More than a roast, spag-bol, lasagna, shepherds pie and cakes. I have to feed them for three blinking weeks and both my parents battle for the title of the 'new' Nigella/Gordon in the kitchen. It's a lot to live up to.

7. Get my roots done, legs waxed and eyebrows reeled in. Currently brows look like two squirrels have left their tales above my eyes. Must revert back to the daughter they once knew and not the sweat pant clad Amy-Winehouse-in-rehab state am currently languishing in.


7 things I do now (instead of preparing for Christmas)

1. Worry constantly about how we will afford college/university fees for the boys, our retirement plus feed two extra mouths during the holidays.

2. Spend time blogging and surfing (internet, not oceans) when I should be playing with my children/learning to cook/do the laundry/clean my house/grocery shop. (I could go on...)

3. Trawl Facebook to see what my friends are up to instead of picking up the phone and calling them.

4. Stay in my dressing gown and PJs unless we have to leave the house. Even I am embarrassed for the post-lady who this week, has rung my doorbell three times after midday to deliver parcels,and found me in the same bespectacled PJ state every time. (Bless her, she thought I was sick!)

5. Constantly fight the urge to eat a cookie, every goddamn half hour. Thanks to BlogToFit, I have put myself on a treadmill of cookie deprivation. This is meant to be a good thing, right?

6. Let my children watch too much TV. So I can blog in peace. (I know. The shame. Major Bad Mummy/Mommy points.)

7. Wonder how I will find time to sneak off to blog while my parents are visiting. (And whether to confess to them that I blog. Yes, probably best not to.)


7 things I can't do this Christmas

1. Watch a gazillion hours of crap TV - My parents will want to, wait for it, TALK TO ME!

2. Have drunken sexy shenanigans with Him Downstairs on Christmas morning.

3. Have a wee with the door open. See how that will go down with the children.

4. Go outside for any sneaky celebratory Christmas ciggies. (That was a highlight of having my sister-in-law to stay last Christmas.)

5. Bring myself to take the giblets out of the turkey. That's what you have Mums for.

6. Spend Christmas just the four of us. On a beach. In the Caribbean.

7. Win Monopoly. Well, maybe there's a first time...


7 Christmas wishes

1. A new kitchen. (If I'm a good girl and the US auto industry doesn't sink, Santa might bring me this before next spring.)

2. Some cashmere lounging socks. My current ones are a disgrace. And not cashmere.

3. Zero arguments with the parents. (I'll keep you posted about if this wish comes true, seeings as I can't help but revert back to a sulky teenager in their presence.)

4. Time away from being Mum/Mom. (Hurray, this one's coming true as HD and I are off to NYC for a romantic three night break away from being parents. Thank you Mum and Dad!)

5. To be a better Mummy. This is also a New Year Resolution. I will play with them more and spend more one-on-one time with each of them next year. Honest.

6. To make HD happier. Bless him. He doesn't complain much. But apparenty I don't put out enough. He has a point.

7. Peace, love, harmony and good fortune for all whom I love. Cheesy but true.


7 things I say most often as Christmas approaches

1. Remember, Santa's watching.

2. Stop it! Do you really want me to have to phone Santa?

3. No, no more toy catalogues have arrived in the mail today.

4. Yes, Mummy and Daddy will put the fire out so Santa doesn't burn his bottom when he comes down the chimney.

5. I don't think Santa will fit quite that many toys just for you in his sack darling.

6. No, the reindeer don't live at our house.

7. Thank god: they're asleep.


7 celebrities I'd invite for Christmas dinner

1. Ruth Jones - but for added entertainment, she'd have to come as her Gavin & Stacey character, Vanessa-Shanessa wouldn't she?

2. Louis Theroux -like Nappy Valley Girl, I think he's witty and rather gorgeous.

3. Matthew Macfadyen- great British sex-on-legs actor.

4. Sarah Jessica Parker - great American actress with great shoes.

5. Maureen Lipman- good British actress, very funny and she'll always be Beattie from the British Telecom ads to me. I love the fact that she won an award for "You got an Ology ... "

6. Gary Lightbody - singer and front man with Snow Patrol. He could serenade me as I baste the turkey.

7. Victoria Beckham - just to see if she'd actually eat anything except dust.

7 favourite festive foods

(Though of course, because of my participation in BlogToFit, I'll only be indulging in these modestly this year...)

1. Roast turkey and all the trimmings
2. Cadbury's selection boxes. Hope Santa brings me one. Hint. Hint
3. Terry's Plain Chocolate Orange

4. The Boxing Day ham, mustard mash and green beans we always have

5. Chocolate Yule log

6. Leftover turkey and salad cream sandwiches (Can't get enough of these)

7. Sausage rolls (I've already scheduled my Mum in to bake her usual freezer-filling batch)


7 other bloggers who can do this too if they so wish but please don't feel obliged (I've chosen from my fellow pound-busters at BlogToFit)

1. Turf Dad
2. Deconstructing Jen
3. ThatGirl39
4. NotSuperMum
5. Dave Fowler
6. Tara Cain
7. Dave Wright

And then, not forgetting that Christmas is a time for giving, I'd like to bestow the Superior Scribbler award to the luscious Confused Take That Fan, who has me laughing and crying regularly at her blog and my favourite Auntie, the rock n roll machine that is, Auntie Gwen. I'd love an Xmas mosh with you both!