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Thursday Thingamagigs or I don't have enough of any one topic for a blog post

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  • We sold the high chair and the pram on Ebay. We didn’t get enough for the pram for me to feel that it was worth giving up what seems to be the essential symbol of babyhood*. I sobbed all day on Tuesday when it was being collected. Mostly because there will be no more babies. Partly because this means Grub really is a big girl now. A toddler and not a baby. I asked Beefcake if I could buy it back. It was a bit pathetic.
  • I am having a little problem with chocolate licorice bullets at the moment. I always like them but at the moment I am unable to stop at just a few. I eat the whole bag, I have left them in the kitchen in the hope that having to get up to get more will reduce my intake. It is not working. I am a hopeless, hopeless addict.
  • My sister Patchouli! has admitted to me that she has started her own blog. This is fine except that since she has known about my blog she has mocked me mercilessly and relentlessly. She has never read this blog, she just knows about it. She expects similar restraint from me, which of course I will provide. I really wish I didn’t have to though. I am dying to look. I have almost considered telling someone else about it so that they can look for me and tell me about it. Naturally I won’t but still, tempting.
  • Beefcake reads this blog,which is sometimes handy if I am looking to send him some sort of coded message. So here it is: Go and get a vasectomy (In case you were wondering that’s code for “Go and get a vasectomy”).
  • Beefcake has brought me the bag of bullets now. They are not long for this world.
  • It is sooooo hot here I think I might melt. We have no air conditioner. We have borrowed a small portable one but our current finances do not extend to buying a new one. We’ll have to organise something in the next few days though because it’s getting dire.
  • It’s pageant on Saturday. You may remember my posts from last year. I am sure that this year’s pageant will provide just as much fabulous blog fodder. Last year though it was drizzling and chilly enough that Grub had to wear a beanie. The predicted top for Saturday is 39°C. It will be quite a different day. I shall have to find a vantage point in the shade so that I am not overwhelmed by the heat. Also we are walking there as we can’t really justify taking the car and parking. It’s maybe a twenty minute walk across the parklands at most. Heat makes me lazy. I don’t really want to.
  • I am addicted to scrabble on my iphone. I have at least ten games going at any one time. It is a deadly time waster as there is a chat function too so I play and chat to Patchouli! all the time.
  • My coriander plant died because I forgot to cover it with some shade. It was less mature than my other herbs which are still hanging in there. Bum.
  • Rhubarb has a frightening Fbook habit. I have had to get on there once already to remove some chat that offended his Aunt and Uncle. He couldn’t see the problem. The thing is, he gets 90 minutes a day total computer time. He has been sneaking time at school. Not pleased. He is becoming such a teenager. It’s scary.
  • I’m thinking of doing my requalification and going back to work a couple of days a week. I have to jump through a few hoops to be able to practise again as it has been four-and-a-half years since I worked but the money is needed. Beefcake would be able to look after the kids because he works from home. On those days he would just mostly work in the evening, which is fine. He is not overly keen, worrying that I will not manage with the pelvis and things but I think it will be fine. Worth thinking about, I guess.
    *This is strange because all of my children but particularly Grub were carried in a sling all the time until near their first birthday.
    Grub only used that pram about two dozen times really. Still. *sniff*

8 responses

  1. Those babies grow too fast, don’t they? And I totally think you should read your sister’s blog.
    .-= badness jones´s last blog ..And then light shone down from the heavens and the angels sang…. =-.

  2. I thought you don’t seem like the pageant mum so I clicked the links. That looks like it will be fun, hopefully you don’t all melt. Are you still heatwaving? I feel your aircon pain, we have air con, it is really noisy but doesn’t actually work and it drives me insane. A cool change has hit here and it is really quite delightful.
    .-= del´s last blog ..Kind of One of THOSE Days, but Not Quite =-.

  3. God, 39 degrees on Saturday, what sort of spring do you call this? A stupid one, that’s what.

    I have a scrabble addiction too :)
    .-= Stomper Girl´s last blog ..Our Girls Book Launch =-.

  4. I understand how you feel about the pram. I converted Lucy’s crib to a toddler bed recently and cried like a baby. She never even slept in that crib, she slept with Dave and me. Still, it’s the principle.

    Your “coded” message mad me laugh out loud.
    .-= Leslie´s last blog ..Absolutely Delicious =-.

  5. It’s only November. Mother Nature is pissed at us I think.
    .-= Veronica´s last blog ..Happy Birthday To Me! =-.

  6. I totally get it over the pram thing. We are slowly shedding the last remnants of Oscar’s babyhood. He is desperately attached to his cot even though we all know he has needed a normal bed for at least a year. I am loathe to let it go because it will be the last vestige of babyhood. all gone.xx

  7. There’s no way I would have contemplated going to the pageant on Saturday. I’d also been out on the Friday night and was a tad tired so another excuse not to.

    I’m friends with some teenagers on Facebook. I just hope they don’t regret what they put up there at a later date some of them so I can see why you might try to contain it. Hard to do though I’m sure.

  8. Is it normal of coriander plants to die faster? Mine got all dead too and never grew more than 1 week. As for your pram emotions, I very well understand. It’s more of attachment and memories attached of your baby to the pram than the money you get by selling it. I never sold my baby’s pram as I never could digest somebody else sitting in it.

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