In Search of Rosie

*20SM would like to point out she has not lost her marbles before you read this post. 

She never had them in the first place!

I was burgled in 2005. It was during a period of time before I officially moved in with Ed the Elder, and so still had my own little flat just down the road from his in Kent. I used to call it the skanky flat cos it was so small, it was damp, and it basically had all the furniture in it that Ed didn't want in his home. The only thing I liked about it was it was beside the riverside country park so it had nice views from one window only. Oh and my big over stuffed armchair wasn't bad either. 

Apart from one night a week, I had all my day to day clothes and stuff at the other flat. It was just storage until I moved in properly.

When I first moved in (I had the place for about 5 years), the area was nice. It was mainly for old people and families. Slowly though, more and more people were moved in from the other crappy areas  with their ASBOs and the whole area turned into am extension of Beirut. Literally gangs of kids would steal cars from people's driveways and push them across a busy road, onto the field opposite my flat, and into the basketball pitch which was full of burnt out cars and junk. Lovely. 

Hence why I wanted to live at Ed's nice flat!

So, just before I gave up the tenancy, I went over to collect some post, and found that I'd been burgled. 

Such was the horribleness of the neighbourhood and the downstairs neighbour that they'd forced open one of the windows at the front of the house to get in. I was on the first floor, quite a distance up so they must have used a ladder. Yet no one saw anything enough to call the Police.

I knew something was wrong when I got outside, as the front window was wide open and the curtains were flapping in the breeze.

Well, they'd got in and made a right mess, cushions everywhere, make up and bath stuff all over the place, you can imagine it wasn't nice.

They'd not bothered nicking my TV, as it was older than me, in fact they must have been really pissed off! They had nicked my entire CD collection though, and there were loads, my purple Dyson hoover (so how no one noticed that going out!) and  a denim furry coat thing (so they had no taste whatsoever).

Weirdest thing they nicked though?

Rosie.

Rosie was a doll I had had since I was tiny. I don't recall who bought it for me, but she was always there in my room growing up.

It was one of the few things I brought with me when I left home, and I had kept her as I had wanted to pass it on to my child.

It was a soft plastic doll, with no box, no clothes, nothing. She looked just like this:

So I was quite upset when I realised she'd gone.

Cut to now, and I've been looking for dolls online, for Blythe dolls so I can punk them up a bit, and I saw Rosie! Or a doll very much the same. Its a Kewpie doll, they go or about a tenner, which surprised me no end. 

So now I have gone in search of Rosie, much loved dolly from my childhood, and can now happily replace her. 

God bless the power of the 'net!

You Spin Me Round-Resolutions, Have They Been Kept to?

Its FEBRUARY! One of my favorite months, and we're are now 6 whole days in to it.

So, I believe its a good time to look at all those resolutions we all made and posted blogs about in the dark, cold and snowy early days of January.

Some of us will be shuffling along, hiding and saying "Resolutions? What Resolutions?", whilst some of us will be looking rather smug at keeping theirs.

Me?

I'm pants! 

I think I do recall either saying in the post about the new year or maybe on Twitter, I'm scatty so I forget which, that regardless of my insistence  that I will keep to the things I know I wont.

The biggest one was that I would lose weight, well, I lost a stone in a fortnight, so made good early progress. I have had only one take out from the Chinese since the beginning of the year. And only been to Maccy Ds once too. 

I have however, managed to stay at about 12 and a half stone, better than the 13 and a half stone I was back on January the 1st, which was appallingly scary and made me ban Ed the Elder from looking at my blog! He, the smug bugger, is 10 and a half stone, which made him look all concerned like a big girl as he's been a trim 9 stone odd for years. Considering when we met I was 8 stone, I think I have more to be concerned about really (although in my defence he hasn't been pregnant ever).

I can however just about do up my skinny jeans (is that not a contradiction though, as obviously some people's skinny jeans are skinnier than others? Mine should be moderate jeans I think!), which are a size 14. Joy!

I have kept up the no alcohol due to the Bailey's incident. Although that will probably be broken on my birthday next week, hell everyone deserves a drink on their birthday!

I have tried not to be so busy, busy, busy. Nah, failed that one! With the weeks prior to the launch of The Family Panel, I was mental!

With a week to go, my launch giveaway was looking like it was going to be half empty bottles of baby bath in a cardboard box! Then, 2 days before launch day, my internet died a sad death. It was because my allowance had expired due to the Nephew downloading random stuff. Not porn, but DJ porn, all sorts of blips and beeps that mean nothing to me but induce great happiness in him. He has now been told to bog off! Well, from the PC anyway!

Then came the day of the launch, and still very few people knew the site was being done by me! Why'd I keep it a secret? Well, with he negative stuff that was still swirling around on and off throughout January (a very special thanks goes to Victoria Nunes from Mum to a Princess for her absolutely undying loyalty even when being blasted over Twitter), I didn't want anyone putting the proverbial boot in. 

I sat there, needing to go out to do the shopping, chewing my fingernails. At one point I asked Ed the Elder what I should do if NO ONE JOINED UP?

I needn't have worried, as we have been adding people daily to the site, and I am now, thanks to advice from Joanne about making it known to PRs and brands that we exist, busier than ever with offers! I don't want to appear grabby, so I have been giving bits and pieces away for reviews by guests, so if you fancy letting me know if you want to join in, do so- I hope it'll be another great way of sharing the Blogger Love, as I'll be putting a little write up and link thing to the blogs of those who do these reviews too.

We've also been lucky enough to have some great stuff to giveaway to the FP Faithful as I've nicknamed the followers, and some discounts for stuff too.

So, all in all, not bad- I'm not the size 10 I wish to be (and probably never will be), I am still scatty, busy and stressed (unnecessarily, but I think I'd be bored if I wasn't!), and have now become an addict to glee and EBay (I will catch up with the Blythe Gang!), but well thats me!

How about you?

Let me know if you want to join in with the Resolution look back thing!

The Life (Plan) and Times of Twenty Something Mum

The very funny Mellow Mummy (who'll make you a Cadbury wrapper dress if you ask her nicely) has tagged me in a meme looking back through the years at what you wanted to do when you "was a growned up".

Its quite a fitting meme as I turn 28 on the 10th of February, next Wednesday.

But here goes.....

I know that up until I was about 13, all I really wanted to do was being a performer, moving from being Madonna's backing dancing on Top of the Pops, to singing with Kylie, and then being an actress on stage or in Grange Hill.

 

You can see the results of my desperation as a child to be famous in photos from the time. The one above is from my last 6 months of primary school, when I had begged my teacher Mr Smith (coolest teacher ever) to let us have Friday afternoons off in the hall to sing, dance and lark about. He loved us all to bits and used to make a big thing of announcing us all on stage! (I'm in the pink top, second from left).

That's why when the media blames the reality shows and talent competitions brought to the screen for the amount of kids who say they want to be famous,  always think they're wrong, nothing has changed much from when I was at school.

When I got to 13/14, I was still trying to get into the school plays, and went to dance lessons after school, but I had also started writing the music column (if you could call it a column) for my school newspaper. My first article was all about the return of Michael Jackson, and how we'd been robbed of Eurovision yet again, by the Irish with a song I argued wasn't a song as it had no lyrics.

I loved writing for the newspaper, called RNS Times. I fought hard to save it from extinction by the Headmaster, after a group of us had published a report on the campaign to let girls wear trousers in bad weather. It ended up causing a "sit in" demonstration (I was very into the 60s at the time!) in the school hall, which resulted in about 100 girls refusing to move after the bell sounded for 3 period lessons. I had art and hated the teacher who taught it so had no problems sitting in and missing it! 

The head was finally summoned and threatened to expel us all, and fearing the wrath of my Mum, I ran! We never did get to wear trousers to school, but after I left the girls did.

Every opportunity to get on the radio I was there, ready o talk about poetry, Bastille Day and Rochester. I loved it!

At 16, I started sixth form at a new school, and immediately was asked to join the school paper there too.  I had also joined the Youth parliament, and was made Vice Chair. I started to get the idea that Politics was for me. Some of the local councillors hated me, in all honesty. They would turn up at meetings asking us to do some sort of work for them, making out we would be helping to change our town once all our views were in a dossier. The other younger lot in the Cabinet would nod ad agree, then I, with my feet on the table, chewing bubble gum and dressed like a goth, would tell them to stick it. I would ask whether we would get paid, and of course they'd say no. At which point I'd ask if they got paid, and of course they'd go very red and say yes. I'd then ask them to leave the room so we could discuss they offer. Then I'd explain we were getting used as free researchers. 

This was the time when I ended up bringing about the resignation of the local schools representative, as with one article I exposed him as the smarmy out of touch person he was. After that I was banned from making notes at council and Youth Parliament meetings- I used to do them under the table, and one of the lads lent me a Dictaphone!

I wasn't a complete rebel- I won an award for services to the local youth. It wasn't voted for by the council by the way!

Then it went a bit down hill.

At 17, I left home, and had to leave college.

I had really crap jobs in retail and childcare which I hated, but did to have a bit of money to go out and get plastered as regularly as possible. I bought mad clothes to try and stand out and be different, from all the local second hand shops. I couldn't afford Primark back then! 

When I was 18, I met Ed the Elder. I lived in my first non-shared house, but had no TV, no stereo and a mad collection of Doc Marten boots, and Jim Morrison posters!

The rest is a bit dull, more crap jobs, more moving about and more knowing I wanted to do something outside the normal 9-5 but being too lazy to do anything about it.

Then at 25, I had Mini! And you know the rest!

Well, I hope you liked that insight into me.

Feel free to add your name to the comments and join in!

No Parent Required

Well, we finally got off to playgroup today after last weeks false start, as the Spots of Playschool Doom have now all but disappeared.

It wasn't a great start to the morning when I realised it was 7.40am when we woke up. Usually resident screaming alarm clock Ed the Littler is awake at 6am. But not this morning.

With minor panic, I got both kids up and downstairs, stuck drinks in their mouths and threw toast on straight away. I then ran upstairs to look for my "poised, unflappable" mummy clothes, did my hair and make up, and then glugged down a nearly cold coffee.

Luckily, we were ready to leave by 9am, so off we went.

All the way there, and for weeks now, I have been telling her its exciting and mentioning playgroup and how Mummy will drop her off and she can play for a bit.

We got there on time, and what did we see?

A little boy, being dropped off by his Mum, who proceeded to cry buckets (the boy, not the Mum, although he told me on the way out she hated that bit).

I started to think that Mini would see this and bawl too. 

Mary came out to say hello, and made a fuss of her, taking her coat off and showing her her coat peg. Mini couldn't wait, she gave me a quick kiss and off she went. She had spotted a toy phone and quickly made a grab for it. 

Making sure I'd left my number, I left.

I did think all the way up the path, Mary would call me to come back, as Mini would realise I'd left her, and get upset. 

No, not at all.

It was Me who was the big wuss. I had to grab a coffee as  I am ashamed to say I felt like I'd been abandoned! Sad act I know! It was weird walking round the shops, without her trying to pinch half the shop or screaming because she's seen a toy she wants.

At 10.15 I phoned to check she was OK, and Mary said she'd never seen a child more confident than Min, that she'd been happy as anything.

When I went to pick her up, at 11.45, I was told the other new girl had left after 30 minutes, but that Mini had tried to cheer her up. She had been telling all the children about her Gerbillies, (as she calls them), Un, Ooh and Ee.

The only time she got upset?

When I plonked her back in her buggy to come home! She wanted to stay and build sand castles, apparently.

Its left me wondering where the time goes?

One minute, they are totally reliant on you for everything, the next they're off, doing their own thing. 

Hankie please!

*********

Just a quick note to say this is my 100th post (!) so thank s for all of you followers and regular commentors/readers out there. Love to you all xxx

Oh and look out on twitter, I'm adding guest review requests for the Family Panel, so if anything comes up which is out of my area/age range I'll let you all know there !

Ed the Littler and the Great Room Re-Do.

Well, I did it, I spoke to the Health Visitor, Grace (Love her!) about Ed the Littler and his crazy behaviour. The final straw came when he came up behind Mini and hit her over the head with a bottle, then fell about laughing as she cried.

Grace was very understanding, and I told her that it was worrying me so much, and that I was a bit hesitant to say anything in case she thought I was exaggerating.

She thinks its because Mini is such a natural show off, always dancing about and grabbing the attention of adults that Littler has seen this and felt left out. He has then worked out that if he screams and generally acts nuts all day, he gets attention too, allbeit us telling him to stop it. 

Her theory is to ignore it, however hard. But when he is good, really over exaggerate how pleased we are and make a big fuss. It seems to be working so far.

\

So in an effort to stop him feeling left out so much, we are going to redecorate his room.

Mini's room is a shrine to Night Garden, but that was easy to sort out. It was really obvious when we moved in how much she liked the programme, so I hastily went searching on EBay for bits and bobs to do it. Her room is pretty amazing, I would've loved it as a kid, and she loves her room too. No doubt in a years time she'll have gone off Night Garden and we will have to start all over again.

Littler however, ended up with what Mini used to have- Winnie The Pooh. At the time he was still relatively small, and couldn't voice a opinion either way. But I have felt recently that we didn't put very much effort into it, and that it was starting to look a bit, well, crap actually!

He still shows no interest in characters on the Kids shows. But he does like cars, trains, and planes.

So we are going to strip the room out and do it the right way this time. We are keeping his lovely cot bed, and his wardrobe (not my choice though-its the landladies and is so huge it wont fit in the garage).

I think we shall adopt the same stickers on wall thing we did in Mini's room, so if we move again we can take them with us.  A fresh lick of cream paint will go on though.

I'm thinking something like this that I found on the net.

Then blue and transport everything. And shelves. The boy needs somewhere in the relatively small room to put his stuff.

And the Winnie the Pooh? Well Ed the Elder has ruled out keeping it for sentimental purposes, so that's going on to be sold.

Look out E Bay, Mother on a mission!

Ed the Littler is crazy- FACT!

On this blog, Mini has become quite the star of the show (or blog). Ed the Littler doesn't get many blog entries dedicated to him, but today here's one just about him!

He is crazy.

If The Boy (as we have taken to referring to him as) at 15 months is this mad now, I really do think he will have an ASBO by 2.

He is not a happy chappy at the moment at all, and there's no reason for it.

I checked to see if he was teething, but he has no pointy bits in his gums, and is dribbling just as much as normal. He has no rashes, colds, or illnesses of any kind. He still has his naps, and has the appetite of a 15 year old.

But still, my formerly happy boy is not happy at all.

He doesn't like bears, so unlike when Mini used to throw strops and we used to have Teddy White (and still do) as a good tantrum tamer, not so with The Boy.

The only things that appear to make him happy, and give respite in the screeching and banging of fists, feet and head on the floor, is biting, pinching and hair pulling, inflicted on us all, or wanton destruction of furniture- a chair which he kept knocking over fell to pieces earlier. He managed to pinch a whole tub of Nesquik and pour that over the floor this afternoon while I was spooning some into a bottle.

Things like this make him fall about laughing. That and throwing toys, phones and the remote down the back of the sofa.

I have no idea. He seems to be marginally more keen on his Daddy so he is trying to keep him calm.

The Boy says Dad dad dad all day long. He can say Duck, Bath, Buh (for bottle) and get. But he refuses to say Mum, Mummy, or Ma.  Its quite annoying actually to have an empty bottle smacked in your face, followed by this terror tot telling you to get, followed by Brmm Brrm, as if to say "Come on love get to it". And the demonic looks he pulls as well.

If he carries on I shall be grey in a fortnight. My Elizabeth Arden cream and anti wrinkle stuff can't cope.

Tips would be much appreciated. Or better still, a straight jacket.......

Mini and the Spots of Playschool Doom

Remember my post about how Mini wasn't so Mini anymore, and was off to playschool last week? (If not you can catch up here)

It would appear I spoke too soon.

I should've known, shouldn't I, that in our household, nothing ever turns out quite how we expect, and Min's first day of Playschool has been no exception.

She has been a happy little bunny of late. No child is perfect so we've had the odd Mini Moment, but she's been quite good, singing, jumping around, and being helpful.

Until she came down with what I have christened The Spots of Playschool Doom. (at this point there should be a horror movie type scream and Duh, duh duh! suspenseful background music).

Almost the day after I had spoken to Lovely Mary about her starting Playschool, and had gone out to look for an Upsy Daisy Rucksack, she woke up with a rash on her cheek.

Which quickly spread to her whole face.

At first I thought it was a bit of heat rash. She has a habit of falling asleep submerged under the duvet, so I thought it would calm down.

When it spread in tiny little red spots on both cheeks and her nose and chin, I had to strip her off to check she didn't have measles. An old lady in one of the thrift shops in town thought she'd had measles and gave her two teddies to cheer her up.

But it was just on her face.

Baffled, I took her in Boots, and the pharmacist asked if she'd had a cold recently.

I said yes, and that when she gets a cold, her nose, rather than running like some kids doesn't, so the nasty stuff gets stuck in her nostril and goes hard. Euch.

This, I was told, was the cause.

Ed the Elder took her off to the GP yesterday. She was given antibiotics (which we have to disguise in Nesquik as she can taste it in juice), and a special cream too.

So I phoned Lovely Mary to see if it was still OK to bring her. Fine, as long as she wasn't carrying anything catching, and was happy in herself, as Lovely Mary pointed out if the child is not 100%, then it makes the move to playschool less than a happy experience.

So, we got her new outfit out, put Mummy Teddy White in her rucksack, and were all ready to go.

At which point she nodded off on my lap. At 9am. When Playschool starts at 9.30am. Antibiotic induced drowsiness.

Abort mission!

So, once again I had to phone poor Lovely Mary (who has now given me her mobile number and must think I'm one of those annoying Mums), and let her know the bad news.

She found it hilarious, as the other child who was also starting today had also had to cancel due to illness.

Next Tuesday, we'll try again!

************

Just a quick message to remind you if you haven't signed up to Follow The Family Panel yet, you wont be entered into our competition! We're adding new reviews all the time so head on over. And if you'd like to guest review, just let me know, I have offers daily, some of which are not suitable to my rabble, and I'm happy to pass them on! Email me at familypanel@yahoo.co.uk

Oh Yes, It's the Shiny Happy People Meme!

Sian at Mummy Tips (who has introduced me to the Blythe doll, I so want one. Or 50), has tagged me in Rosie Scribble's meme. Here are the rules:

1. Name a song that makes you happy - a song you would listen to if you needed a sudden injection of happiness;

2. Post an image that makes you smile. It can be anything - a silly photo, an image taken from the internet, anything that puts a smile on your face (and isn't too rude!).

Right, first up here's my song, and once again this was very hard as any question to do with music or narrowing down of musical favorites makes me sweat!

But here it is:

Now, here is where I explain such as strange choice of song!

Before children, Ed and I used to like having nights in listening to whatever new tunes we had bought from the local charity shops. One such set he got was a box set from 1959-1980, a 12 inch for each year. 

One of these had the song above on. I had never heard of it before, and the first time I did hear it I was slightly giddy on Beer. Oh the joys of before children!

It became a bit of a drunken tradition for me to sing and act out the song. Haven't done so for  a while, being a respectable seldom drunk mother of two, but it still gives me the giggles even now.

The second is a photo that makes me happy. Again, not an easy task, but here we go;

This is my sister and I in my parents back garden, around 1986/87/88. I'm in the red cossie.

I have often recently mentioned how I don't really get along with my family now, which is sad, but I still have pictures from the normal times which can make me happy. My sister and I were quite close until we reached our teens, at which point we became complete opposites. She loved her make up, clothes and boys, and was hugely popular at school. I on the other hand was into music, books and poetry, and hence was not popular at all!

But here aged probably about 6 and 3 each we were always giggling and laughing together. One of my favorite times was when my parents used to send both of us to our bedrooms. We would then very quietly and sneakily, pass notes under the doors back and forth, bemoaning our punishment and being quite rude about whichever parent had sent us there. Definitely helped pass the time!

So, now I shall tag

Liz at Living With Kids,

Michelle (who is new so show her some Blogger Love)

and Hayley at Single Mother Challenges

And just to add a big High Five of Blogger Love to Nick at MyDaddyCooks- who gave a fantastic interview one BBC Breakfast this morning. If you haven't seen his excellent Vlog Blog yet, than head on over!

 

NEW REVIEWS PAGE! THE FAMILY PANEL

Hi my lovely gang.

I take it if you're reading this then you obviously didn't get offended by my Cause for Blogger Love and Peace! And  just to clarify, I wrote that stone cold sober!

Anyway, this is just a quickie to introduce my latest "project", a reviews page.

I had one previously but in a half arsed way, and then I was writing for "the site which I am not allowed to name in a blog in case I get sued". But that has given me the where with all to go out and really try to put a great site out there.

So, come on over, and especially follow THE FAMILY PANEL .

And I'm not just "begging for followers" in a selfish way. 

In fact, if you follow, that gives you immediate entry into our current competition, to win two craft sets worth 9.99 each (we have 7 pairs of sets to give away). It also gives you entry into all our future giveaways, and there are some really good prizes lined up for the next few months.

I'm also looking for a selection of guest reviewers, to submit their own product reviews. No catch, no obligation, no mad editor barking at you for copy, just your name on our site with a link to your blog and your piece. Simple.

Feel free to grab our badge for your site, it'd be very much appreciated.

Just some thanks to those whose advice and support made the site possible-you know who you all are x

Cheers guys!

Not. Real. Life (May Contain Nuts)

Sally at Whose The Mummy posted an interesting blog about Cliques in Blogging, and online communities in general, and it has sparked great debate from new and old faces in blogging.

Being a relative "newbie" I have for 95% of the time enjoyed blogging. I have had some lovely comments, which I thank you all for. I have been given shiny awards in recognition of my writing (thanks for them too) and loved the Memes I have been tagged in.

Now, before this descends into a blubbing Oscar-like speech, I shall finish by thanking my agent, my cat and next doors teenage son for kicking his football on the very thin wall between his side of the conservatory and mine.

Unfortunately, being the sometimes depressed soul that I am, when I receive a knock back, I take it quite personally. Daft? Yes, of course, and I feel stupid beyond belief once I've had a good cry under the duvet.

But why is there the need for these knock backs in the first place?

As you all know, I was recently taken the pee out of for voicing that I would like to make a career out of my writing. Now, this is nothing new.

I have "written" in some way or another since I was about 8. I was featured in a Blue Peter annual when I was still at Primary school, with a poem I had written about pollution called "Save The World" (I forget how it goes!) At 10, a teacher submitted another of my compositions to a publisher who was looking for poetry written by kids. It was subsequently published too. (My Mum has a copy but forgive me for not ringing and asking for it).

At 14, I was commended for another piece in 'Smiths young writers competition as well. And my I got taken the mick out of for it!

By 16, I was writing for my schools magazine, and one article I wrote caused absolute political meltdown in my local council and led to the representative for schools in my area resigning. I was always in my local paper, giving speeches and meeting important people, as my writing had got me the Vice Chair position on what was the countries first Youth Parliament.

When asked as a kid what I wanted to do, the answer was always the same- I wanted to ride a Harley Davidson (midnight blue and chrome), live in Edinburgh near Waverley, and write for The Scotsman newspaper. At 18 this changed to NME!

I'm not trying to brag, but when I was told I was deluded to want to try and use my writing as a step up into media, well, it hurt. I have had jobs in retail, I even did a whole course in Retail Management. I worked with kids. I bloody hated both of these careers (not due to the kids, but due to the politics between Teachers and Classroom Assistants).

But why should I dismiss my goal in life?

That's when I stepped back a bit, took a deep breath.

Hell its not real life!

Its a blog. Its Twitter. Its the Mums Forums.

Bloody Hell people! Its not world peace!

We should be supporting each other, and not back biting and sniping at each other.

We can get the absolute best from these blogs- the latest example being the campaign started by English Mum to raise funds for Haiti. Now Haiti- that's real life. That's something to be worried, upset or concerned about. 

So, from now on, and to spin from what Sally suggested (sorry Sally!)  if you are new, or want me to follow you, yay, I'll follow you! If you have a super post you want me to read, I'll do that too. I'll even give you a mention on Twitter too. And if you really ask me nicely (only kidding) I'll even post a little piece on the end of my blog.

Come on people.

I'm going to quote from a piece of song nicked by Nirvana, but originally sung by the Youngbloods-

Come on people now, Smile on you brother, Everybody get together, Try and love one another, Right now!

Right, thats all from me!

I would  of course love to know what you think, but if you don't want to comment, then meh, that's cool too!