Bloggin' Hell! Where Has The Time Gone?

I can't believe it's been nearly two weeks since I last posted; it's a good job I'm not Catholic cos I reckon I'd be seriously bad at the whole confession lark! And for someone who generally has a fair bit to confess to I imagine I would end up being banished to hell pretty quickly.

Anyhoo, I'm not in hell but alive and well.... how the devil are you and what have you been up to? Any of it worthy of confession?

Following the bedroom decoration/wardrobe building project ( x 2 ), there have been many sorting, editing, tidying and rearranging sub-project deadlines to meet. Anyone would think spring had sprung! In order to allow Other Half time and space to work his DIY magic, Small Child and I have had some girly days together which have, in turn, allowed me to ruminate on both the agony and ecstasy of motherhood. We then despatched him off to the golf course one Sunday as a thank you and a much needed chance for some Him Time. 

He's also managed to get Small Child interested in the Grand Prix, so much so that he can watch some of it without too many demands for Dora, Diego or Chuggington. She pops into the kitchen at regular intervals to tell me who's on pole position, who's crashed into who or who is driving with the new go faster turbo boost thingy! I'm so impressed with Other Half's involvement technique that has bought him some alone time with the remote although I'm not sure I could get away with selling her Gossip Girl in the same way! 

And then there's the whole countdown to no longer being 39 And Counting which is, after all, how this blog began nearly a year ago! Two weeks today till the party, two weeks and two days till the actual big Four Zero and three weeks and one day to the London trip, sans enfant! If I said I was knee deep in party plans I'd be exaggerating slightly as most of it is being handled by the very nice lady at the venue. Invite chasing is done, final numbers are ready, hairdresser who can come to the hotel is booked, a suitable up do has been trialled, The Dress has been fitted and cupcakes are ordered. Damn I'm good!

Now I just need to find a way to ensure that non of the guests go down with swine flu! Over zealous media coverage aside, I'm more worried about it than I care to admit. Even more so now that I am a parent but apart from following guidelines as and when they're issued, I can't do much about it. 

Ho hum.... better go and check that there's no pork products amongst the canapes......

Would You Jump?

Despite being a self confessed fashion addict I know I'm no Anna Wintour; most of the time I'm more vague than Vogue, but may I ask a question anyway? Really, what's with all the jumpsuits, play suits and even flying suits gracing the pages of my fashion reads? Grazia keeps telling me, Obama stylee, "Yes You Can.... Wear A Jumpsuit - We'll Show You How!" No, No, No! They come from the era of  Farrah Fawcett flicks, Bungalow 8, Charlie’s Angels, gloopy red lip gloss, flares and Cinzano Bianco...... and that is where they should stay!

To quote Ms Simon, who I'm sure sported, frequented, looked like, wore or drank most of the above seventies paraphernalia, there are a few things that have that legit "Coming Around Again" factor. I’m all for a bit of retro inspired cool from any decade. Fifties style prom dress? Yes. Pussy bow blouse? Of course. Oversize sunnies? Good enough for Nicole, good enough for me. Eighties style peg trousers? Why not? I even mustered the courage to buy a pair from Next recently and with the right shoes, they actually enhance the good bits and skim over the bad. Bonus!

But jumpsuits? Seriously? There are some trends that should stay buried for a reason, never ever ever to be resurrected by some designer struggling for a new take on an old idea to send down his or her catwalk. It’s entirely possible that as a child of the seventies I may have been dressed in one of these things. I say possible as I’m not sure, but this may be the reason behind my recurring nightmare of being desperate to pee and wrestling with said garment only to lose the battle at the last second if you know what I mean!

Don't get me wrong, I am fully aware that some trends are only meant to be sported by nubile twenty somethings with honeyed limbs, long wavy hair and a catwalk stomp. Lets face it, these girls would look amazing in a sack but even on them, the jumpsuit is still a big no no as far as I'm concerned.

The full length version brings to mind the attire of a newborn who needs his or her nappy changing. And talking of visiting the ladies room, you’d better hope there is a way in to the crotch region or you'll wish you actually had opted for Pampers! Take the same garment,  add in a few zips, manufacture it in khaki and voila, you can live the Top Gun dream all over again. As for the play suit…. isn’t that something that porn stars wear just before they are about to get down to the business of “making movies”? Or perhaps that’s just a hangover from the overriding image I was left with of Roller girl in Boogie Nights!

But hey ho... to truly love fashion is to love the good, the bad and the ugly and, despite it's bonkers mad side, for every micro trend there is one that is far more appealing to the mass market. Hands up who remembers the more wearable spawn of the jumpsuit, the body? This genius invention, courtesy of Donna Karen, was basically your average leotard with an easy access panel. The hassle of fiddling around with three poppers in your nether regions was far outweighed by the fact that it kept your tummy in check, you never had a drafty midriff and peek-a-boo thongs were unheard of!

Bloody hell... am I showing my age in this post or what?

Mean Girls

One of the nagging fears that simmers beneath the surface of my normal, albeit slightly erratic train of thought lately, is for when Small Child starts school and the kind of world she will be opening herself up to.

Kids are so honest, open and direct to start with; pure and beautifully untainted by all the things that will inevitably plague them as they navigate the choppy waters that stretch from puberty to forty and beyond. I love how honest and accepting my girl is right now and like a million parents the world over, I’m not looking forward to witnessing the events that will bring cynicism, mistrust, disappointment and upset into her life.

Girls and indeed grown women, seem to have the jealous, catty, petty thing down to a fine art and I was wondering at exactly what age this starts. I know that it sure as hell still goes on now…… see here and here. And in case that left you in any doubt then you should read the dirt slinging, bitch fest comments left on Yummy Mummy’s recent post here! Seriously…… my jaw was on the table as I read the hurtful, nasty things that were said out of what I can only presume was jealousy, insecurity, or just plain spitefulness. Some simple advice to the venomous anon's out there....If you don't like a blog - stop reading it and write one of your own.

But all this jaw dropping disbelief has led me to digress. I was trying to fathom out my earliest memory of girls who had overnight, turned into hurtful little monsters. Sitting on a bench in junior school comes to mind when my friend asked me to sing her a song; when I finished she jumped up and said “Stop showing off, you can’t sing… that was rubbish”. This of course drew attention from the kids around us who started pointing and laughing; I think it was about then that I became shy and cautious and tried not to participate in anything that might draw attention to myself in a group situation. Teenage spots, trousers not narrow enough, lack of boyfriend and shoes not being stiletto heeled all bought unwanted attention and sometimes bullying in the years that followed.

Guess what  Mean Girls, I’m just fine, you didn’t break me! Spots have been replaced with lines of wisdom, I have a range of jeans varying from skinny to wide legged and boyfriend schmoyfriend – try a husband! As for the shoes….  well I could whip your arse any day in the footwear stakes!

At my niece’s party over the weekend, I think Small Child may have got her first taste of what’s to come. It was at one of those play centre places – you know, the one that brings out my OPPS, meaning I cannot let her go off by herself but instead stand by and watch her climb to ridiculous heights or go down the slide with her! 

I stood, coffee in hand, watching her fling herself at a large inflatable ball that was residing in a pool containing zillions of other tiny balls and some bigger girls. As she stood on the edge, ready for the first launch, the girls started pointing, whispering, and looking her up and down in all too familiar manner. They were no more than six or seven! One glanced at me and must have realised I was the over protective mother on sentry duty as she caught the look in my eye, nudged her accomplice and got on with the business of playing!

Confident that I’d averted a situation, I turned to talk to my brother. I tried not to be too proud, when turning back a minute later, I caught Small Child pinning one of them up against the side with the large inflatable ball!

Perhaps me and my girl will be different in that she will be able to stand up for herself and won’t let the Mean Girls get the better of her… I really hope so. Meanwhile I’ll be making sure I look after her shoe inheritance… just in case.

Mille-feuille.......

.... is apparently French for "a thousand leaves". And also the name of a dessert mais non?

After having been describing my party dress in terms such as "Fru Fru, Flossy, Frothy, An Abundance Of Ruffles, You Know.... A Bit Like That Dress That Carrie Wore In The Paris Scene Right At The End Of The Series" I was pleased to learn that the official name for That Dress actually is The Mille-feuille Dress!

Where did I find this nugget of information? Why, in the official SATC The Movie book of course! So, according to Wikipedia I will be going to my 40th dressed as a custard slice - you can't get better than that!

4 x 2 = No Blog For 10 Days

I know that a child's birthday is no excuse for a ten day absenteeism from blogging but that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!

My baby girl turned four on 2nd April which, to summarise,  involved a pink micro scooter, a trip to Monkey World, copious amounts of birthday cake and much over excitement.

 

This is us making our own monkey business

Then came the party on the Sunday which involved lots of scooting around, a whole other bunch of monkeys, bucket loads of birthday cake and tons more over excitement. In addition to that there were grandparents back to ours for grown up food, whom I have to say, required far more cleaning up after than the small monkeys at the Bounce and Play venue! 

The candles got blown out before Happy Birthday was sung!

In between we had Cousin It, her man and little boy stay over for dinner followed by breakfast at the beach so it felt as if Thursday through Sunday was one long celebration!  Seeing as I intend making my 40th festivities last at least two weeks, I have to say I'm mighty proud of Small Child's party fest efforts!

On top of that we've had the pre planning for our biannual Easter house decorating tradition (not intentional, it just happens that way), which we are now in the thick of. 

So, after attending two kids parties today whilst Other Half was busy painting Small Child's room a very precise shade of marshmallow pink, I am now taking the opportunity to catch up! 

Incidentally, I wish I had live web cam feed for, as I type, him, his brother and brother in law are having boys poker night. As Small Child is occupying the spare room due to the fresh paint in her room, my punishment is to sit at the dining table and endure comments about fetching beer, waitress service, roller skates etc etc! I think retiring early to bed is looking more appealing but first I have a date with some well earned red wine!

A Woman's Right To Shoes

It’s been a while…. how long exactly I’m not sure but its definitely time for post all things shoe!

First and foremost to these babies in the picture. T’was first we met in Grazia a couple of weeks ago… I opened the first page and they there were, all suede, fringing and exquisite beauty. Very nice said I, but you and I will have to live our lives apart for I cannot justify another pair of credit crunch defying, designer heels right now.

But no, wait…. high street you say? Dune? They have a website? But you won’t match my party dress and if I had you I’d need to wear you very soon. Oooh… the London trip! The promise of dinner a la Gordon Ramsey at Claridges…. that DVF dress that would go so well with you…. Oh go on then!

If only my blog provider supplied a scratch and sniff widget (even though I’m sure it would come in for far too much abuse), because they even smell beautiful and I need to share this with you. Has anyone ever been institutionalised for shoe sniffing do you think?

But it’s not just me… I know a few of you out there will understand where I’m coming from (Tara, Yummy Mummy and Auntie Gwen to name but a few!). 

And, I learned yesterday that my good friend S has just purchased her first pair of Louboutins! On the back of her important announcement there followed an over excited text exchange on the merits of these red soled works of art for the feet, ending with me checking them out on Net a Porter. Like me, she has taken to wearing them around the house. We say it’s to break them in before they are officially “outed” but we both know there’s far more to it than that! 

S... do not wear your shoes whilst washing up... the Fairy Liquid may do dishes and be kind to hands but it does not mix with Louboutins!