Carboot sale Bargain!

Someone wise said once that Life is like a rollercoaster.

Well... Actually I think it was Ronan from Westlife, but I do think it sort of hits home all the same.

B, Jackson and I went to a Carboot sale this morning - finally! I have been wanting to go forever and so this morning we went. It didn't disappoint - there were tons of people everywhere selling anything from prams and strollers to furniture. We did bag some bargains but most importantly it made me think of things I coudl make and sell myself. I have a few ideas, so will have to try and focus them a bit more...

We went for a lovely pub lunch and then B had to leave for rehearsals.

Jackson and I decided to go for a walk around the park. It was absolutely rammed with people - as is expected from a Bank Holiday - and so we sat down to have a bottle. (Jackson that is - not me!).
I suddenly felt really sad, sitting there on my own with my baby. I miss my family and friends in Sweden terribly, but more so on these days when I'm on my own.
We went on the swings and slides and there was a very enthusiastic Dad there playing with his daughter. It was so lovely to see and sadly isn't something you see much of in England.

Righto - now I must get back to my play writing - I have a deadline!

I thought I would take this rare oppertunity and discuss something a bit "taboo" - namely parent rivalry.

If you're not yet a parent, then don't stop reading though, as some of this might apply to you, particurarly if you have pets or partners. (And to be fair - you might soon see it for real too!).

It's a strange thing, the parent competing, beacuse it's like we suddenly behave like our children, in truth mostly worse, and the funny thing is: we keep reprimanding our chilren for this behaviour although we do it ourselves! We are such hipocrites!
No wonder our chilren don't listen. They must be thinking:

"Well, mummy if you are going to do that - why can't I??!

And don't think for a second that this sort of childish behaviour is only contained to the innocence of the "stranger mum playground" scenario. Oh no, more commonly these ridiculous battles are fought on homeground.

So what's the point then you may ask?

I have no idea to tell you the truth. But I suppose it's beacuse your offspring is (in your eyes) an extension of you. All your desires, wants, dreams and wishes all whisked beautifully togther like a nice sponge cake into one. It's someone, something precious which can't be touched/changed/challenged.

As we feel so strongly for these creatures our emotions highten and our rational and normal mind caves in. We start to believe that our chilren truly are:
The most beautiful, The smartest, The most important.

And guess what - it should be like that. They are all of these things.

The difference is that we only think that of our own. Like Michael Mcintyre said once:

"I only have love for this child."

Operation: Cancelled

After getting geared up both mentally and physically - loading up bags with clothes, dummies, bottles and comforters and stressing like a Madhatter to the hospital, it turns out the operation has to be postponed. To be continued...

Jesus. So not only do we have to go through the whole process again, but Jackson's cough has now proven to be "serious" meaning that I am not just a over-sensitive, paranoid hen mum.

As the hospital nurse was going through the procedure with us, giving Jackson the magic cream (to nub pain from the needle - OUCH!), handing him his hospital gown and whatnots we mentioned his cough and she looked "concerened".
It's the look that all parents fear the most. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest and I had the sudden urge to throttle her, in lack of other things to do. She nodded slowly, listened to his chest and tilted her head.

"He sounds chesty." She said slowly.

Oh yeah? Hadn't noticed, well done Nurse Sherlock!

She said that the anesthetist would have to call the situation and when the very chirpy man appeared he deemed the cough to be too serious to ignore. (Who in Gods name is chirpy - at work - at seven in the morning?! Dodgy I reckon.)

You know, it was weird. In a way I'm glad that they cancelled the operation as it would be unsafe, but on the other hand it means we will have to wait again so I'm feeling kind of torn and confused.
I have spent most of yesterday and today taking my aggressions out on Brooks instead, something which I'm sure he appreciates.

So, to summerize: Jackson and I will have to re-energize, penicillin him up, and we're now looking forward to not sleeping the week of the 25th June.

Photos and fatness

I mean seriously - how depressing is Facebook sometimes? Or more to the point - the five million photos of you on Facebook. I was looking through some of my old photos, as I was trying to find a good "party themed" one and boy did I have to look faaaaaaaaaaaaaar back...

I'm talking years. Goddamn, I am a bit rusty on the good old party front.

Not only that, but I looked so much better back then. Jesus, having a baby really do pile them on. Yes, yes, we all know that and it's only "Babyweight", you'll be back into shape soon... Bla, bla, bla.. But hang on... Erm... Something's wrong here. Oh yeah - I had Jackson over a year ago. The ugly reality is that: I CANNOT BLAME THE BABY WEIGHT ANYMORE. Jackson is technically a TODDLER. Bugger-ee-do.

Depressing.

(Not the having Jackson - part, the fact that I look like a whale - part).

Speaking of parties though - I went to my friend James' birthday party BBQ this weekend and Mummy got wasted!
But it was a rubbish drunk, you know the kind that hits you when you leave so I spent the whole journey home plastered and talking bollocks to B and then was sick twice when I got home.

Rock n' Roll.

Not only that - but baby J didn't care that mummy had one (or five) too many glasses of vino blanco, he was up at 7.30 as usual demanding absolute surrender to his every whim and needs.

Mum's here at the moment and as usual it is BLISS. She's sorting out our garden, thank God, as my fingers are most definitely not green. They are a healthy pink shade, (as is normal), but anything green, small-ish and living that my hands touch die... I just can't keep flowers or plants alive, they all finally crumble and die. (Part from the few cactus I have - sturdy buggers).

Mum babysat last night as Brooks and I went to see Flight of the Concords at Wembley. They were friggin AWESOME!!! I had such a nice time, thank you Carrie for sorting out the tickets!

B's having his leaving do tonight. It's weird to think that he'll be off work at the same time as me! (WHich reminds me that I need to find a job pronto!)

I'm just praying that someone will read my shorst and go: "Hey, she's good! We'll pay her a million pounds in royalties!"

A girl can dream right?