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It's back. It's that time of year again when I get a chance to prove that I belong to a subcategory of mums better known as 'completely hopeless'. The time to organise the dreaded birthday party. This year with have settled for bowling. The price is more reasonable than other places, the minimum number of kids is 6 (not 12 like other local places) and it includes the food, the cake, the goodie bags and a picture of the happy revellers. As usual I started a bit too late and the prefered date was fully booked, so I had to settle for a Sunday (the kiss of death of kiddie birthday parties). To be on the safe side I added a few names to the list, enough so that we can substitute quickly in case of shortages but not so many that I'll need to remortgage the house. Then I made the second mistake: I do not have a contact number for at least 2/3 of the parents of the children on The Boy's list. Invites have been distributed but I have no way of chasing up if they don't RSVP - never a good move. It gets worse - I made a big birthday party faux-pas. I thought I had covered all angles when helping The Boy with the list. I included the little girl who invited him to hers and another little girl he likes so she is not overwhelmed by testosterone. I have made sure I can offer lifts to a couple of the children on the list if needs be. What I had not accounted for is that one of the kids is actually one of a set of twins (not identical so I never noticed) - as I was unaware of it I didn't think of including his brother to the list. Him Indoors says he'll make it all better by sending an e-mail to the dad about extra invite. Hopefully we'll be dafe.Arrgh. How come kids parties are such a minefield ? Why did I not just repeat last year's which was to take him and 3 of his friends to the cinema to see Treasure Island. With popcorn thrown in. They had a great time. It was a departure from the previous years when I went for the more traditional sandwiches (cut with biscuit cutter in shapes appropriate for the 'theme'), jelly, cake (chosen by The Boy months in advance after hours thumbing through baking books), squash and games in the garden birthdays parties. On the minus side they are the devil to organise. You have to buy or make invites. Prepare all the food. Allow for drinks and grown-up food so a few parents will stay and help keep the mob under control. Obtain emergency contact numbers and lists of allergies and various medications off the parents before they have a chance to disappear (they are so happy of a chance to dump the little darlings for a couple of hours they can forget to tell you that little Johnny is allergic to peanuts and her's his epipen and little sophie is asthmatic and here's her ventolin). Clear out a room completely so that if the weather turns the kids can retreat indoors. Make sure you organise games where everybody can get a 'prize'. Make sure the parents are all back to collect the children before the E numbers kick in. Grit your teeth when kids ask where the goodie bags are (who was the twunt who started the goodie bag trend, I could easily make them pick their teeth off the floor with broken fingers). On the plus side they are a great chance to catch up on mummy gossip. If the weather is nice the kids really have a great time running around. The favourite game a couple of years ago was "tails" where a length of ribbon is tucked in the wasteband and the children run after each other to catch tails. You can make the game last for ages if you ask them to bring the tails they catch back to you in exchange for a smartie and if you sneakily redistribute the tails to the losers. The second favourite is great for a bit of peace and quiet. You dish out straws, place a plate full of smarties in the middle of the floor, provide each child with a cup and ask them to pick smaties from the plate to their cups using the straw and a strong sucking action. Total concentration guaranteed. Ah well, in a couple of weeks I'll know if bowling was a good idea after all. |
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2.5.04 00:47 |
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Arghhh ! No internet at work since the virus thing at the begining of the week. I am suffering serious withdrawal symptoms and with the exams drawing close, Him Indoors has been hogging the computer for coursework and revisions. Not sure if it is a result of the withdrawl but I feel a bit scatterbrained hence he scatty post. Got a card from Constance who used to be our lovely au-pair. She is still lovely of course but no longer our au-pair. We miss her. The girl who replaced her is nice, but still it'snot quite the same. So far out of the 9/10 invites for the bowling birthday party out only 3 have rsvped but I am still cool and collected, honest. Technical question: is it possible to go for a ciggie break at work when you don't smoke and don't particularly want to take up smoking. Him Indoors has bought me a pedometer and I have joined the counting steps madness. Depending on how fast/purposefully I walk it takes between 3,500 and 4,000 steps to walk to work. Throughout the day my job is so sedentary that I only clock up 500 to 1,000 steps at work. I was hoping I was close to the10,000 "ideal" a day. Looks like not. By the time I get home I still need to find a way to make up for a 1,500 shortfall. The is a blackbird in the garden who has taken a dislike to one of my batavia lettuce plants and has ben picking it to the point of plucking it out of the ground. I have replanted it 4 times already. It's always the same one. I wonder if I should just give up on it or if I do give up on it, if the blackbird will start on the other ones. I must have looked completely bonkers this morning when I was telling the cat off for not chasing the blackbird away, and not earning his catfood. I am turning into one of the mad old ladies who talk to their pets. All hope is lost (as Him Indoors mutters, you're not that old really). |
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7.5.04 00:37 |
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It's official, our cat is thick. I alway suspected our cat was not the sharpest of felines, but as long as he kept the house rodent free, I didn't mind too much. Then Radio Times had a feature about testing the IQ of the nation's pets. I looked at the test and thought "let's not even go there" and promptly put the idea in some dark recess of my mind. Then when we went shopping I spotted a cat toy. It's a cross between a weeball and a plastic mouse. You put treats in the openings and your cat is supposed to flick it around so that the bisuits fall out and can be eaten. If you want to challenge your cat you can make the openings slightly smaller so they have to work harder. But not our cat, oh no. Baldrick (I know, we did not choose the name) looked at the thing, smelled the treats, tried to lick through the openings, failed and miawed. Him Indoors took pity on the cat and showe him how to flick the toy. The cat observed, no sign of a flicker of understanding. Him Indoors showed again, flicking the toy about and pointing the fallen biscuits to our intellectually challenged animal. The cat looked at us, looked at the impregnable biscuits and miawed some more. When he realised they were not going to come out of their own accord he gave up and went to sleep on the armchair. This was on Saturday, there have been 4 of his favourite treats in the plastic mouse since. Those squirrels he caught in the past must have had a lobotomy...
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10.5.04 22:59 |
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7 the age of reason Birthday celebrations were great. The birthday mood and the weather went nicely together. Friday (the actual birthday) the boy brought his cards and the presents he had received through the post into my bed in the morning and opened them. Favourite was the plastic eye which can be taken apart sent over by Constance. I walked The Boy to school and he was so happy he held my hand half the way there (not his usual style which is more along the lines of running ahead as fast as possible). I also sat through birthday assembly, I managed to stifle all the yawns the very dull headmaster’s speech was bringing on and stayed awake. The Boy was very proud and chuffed I did not forget. In the evening The Boy chose to have pancakes for dinner and was allowed some cider with his (before you report me to social services it was 2% and only a quarter of a glass). We opened the rest of the presents: 2 way radios (in a bid to offer him more freedom at some point in the very far future – we have tested the range as far as the corner shop so far), a compass to add to the contents of his rucksack (spot the anorak), a crystal growing kit, some wooden tracks for his train set and some Kapla. Saturday I made the birthday cake he had chosen after careful consideration. It had taken him 3 evenings to go through all the baking books. He had set his mind on a cake which has a checkerboard effect when you cut he slices and a whole load of chocolate ganache on the top and sides. The checkerboard involves piping concentric circles of chocolate and vanilla cake mix in 3 tins (a bit like a target board) and is a bit of a faff. Philippa The Only True Domestic Goddess, her husband and four children came for lunch (boiled ham,chips and salad) and tea (sausages, rolls and salad) in the garden and somehow the men managed to fit a trip o the park with the children to do some skateboarding while women walked into town for a spot of shopping. And we also managed to all find our way to the local pub and beer garden. PTOTDG’s first born stayed overnight. The Boys were up at 0610 on Sunday morning and appeared to be load testing the house while the rest of us were trying to stay asleep. Either that or they had managed to sneak in a couple of baby elephants and were getting them to race around. The bowling party went great. Only one child who had said she would come didn’t. After a few seconds of worry at being the only girl, the other little girl decided that the boys were quite nice after all and bowled for the sisterhood (while remaining dainty at all times – bless her). Him Indoors decided to play on behalf of the missing girl, he had a great time and did not mind at all having to play under an assumed name, the boys from the rugby team thought it was immensely funny to play against him (he coaches occasionally so they know him pretty well and loved it when they scored higher that him). He was not so sure about the chicken nuggets and chips and I don’t think he ate the piece of birthday cake which was in his goodie bag. I would recommend the bowling party, we were given 2 lanes (for 8 ‘kids’) so they would not have to wait too long between each go, the names had been set up already so we did not need to spend ages keying them in, the kids loved the choice of music (not parent friendly) and danced their little socks off, the lighter balls had already been picked and placed ready for the kids to play. The children loved it and had a great time. When we came back home Christine and her children came over for a play in the garden and lunch. We opened something bubbly to celebrate her 12 year anniversary and when we had had enough of just sitting and drinking in the sun we retreated indoors for a few rounds of jungle book groove party on the PS2 dance mats. I swear the game is even funnier after a few glasses. Going back to work after such a nice week-end is always a bit of a downer. Thankfully the nice weather on the way in helped maintain the mood a little longer. |
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17.5.04 23:14 |
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Just for Smegger |
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18.5.04 11:59 |
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Resolution If last night is anything to go by, I need to steer clear of TV programmes featuring Gordon Ramsay when I have had a drink. Had a disturbingly erotic dream last night involving a deep fat fryer (scary bit), Gordon Ramsay in a tarzan costume and considerable amounts of gooey looking food (up to you to imagine the missing details). And he is not even remotely my type (a bit too blond for my liking) - go figure.
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19.5.04 15:25 |
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Whatever the previous post may have led you to think... ... I do not fancy Gordon Ramsey. If I was to choose and erotic dream partner I think I would probably go for him. (may not be entirely work safe)*
* fingers crossed, hoping Him Indoors does not read this one. |
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24.5.04 23:15 |
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