Careyannie's Mumma Said

Red is Best ....

2010-09-19T05:32:00.000-07:00

I have long held the opinion that the colour red holds mystical powers. I have always chosen it over any other colour. It means many things to many people and here are a few of mine:

Jam, lipstick, shoes, warmth, comfort, speed, danger, passion, courage, energy, love.

Do you know of Blipfoto I tinker about there. You take a photo each day and do a little right-up if you are inclined. Its a great community and you can comment on others photos its much like Twitter but with the added joyful dimension of photography.

Sunday is a pottering kind of day and this morning after a lie in I eventually got to have a go on the now family lappy - kids are growing up so quick and Mr has become an ebay addict!! Anyway a lovely person from Blip aka Notabeve made a lovely comment about my latest entry and reminded me of a comment that I'd made on hers. (Hope that makes sense does to me :)

Anyhoo the lovely Notabeve was under par and had posted a glorious photo of some red berries (see where am going on this yet?) The colour really popped on the photograph and made me smile. I added my comment that 'red is just the best colour but not on the nose'.

So back to this morning and her comment on my blip. Notabeve asked this question 'Can I take from your comment that you are a mom who does understand about red?' and I clicked on the link as you may have done.

Up popped an Amazon page relating to a childs book Red is Best by Kathy Stinson a Canadian author. This book is about a 3 year old girl who defies her Mom and insists on wearing her fave red things - a girl after my own heart it seems!

I began to think about my preference for the colour red. It makes me happy. A slick of red lipstick on a cold grey morning gives me the vital edge against the world. It seems that its an unconscious response from me to choose it. As you can see from my blogger style Ive chosen red in my colour scheme.

The little things like the colour of my tea cup - yes it is red - tea just doesn't taste the same from a blue or yellow one. My fave coat is red, fave bag is red, a fave brooch is a red heart.

When my Mumma got married to Dada she wore a red coat, she wore red lipstick and always gave me red jelly if ever I was poorly. In school both my house teams were red 'Wolf' and 'Langdale'. I have a red front door and my fave film is the 'Red Balloon'.

I guess Red is my colour.

Special thanks to the Blipfoto community and to Notabeve especially.

Wordless Wednesday ...

2010-09-01T10:19:00.000-07:00

Ha Ha .... a very overdue Meme!

2010-08-28T06:43:00.000-07:00

Its been a very long time since I investigated the comments on my blog. Ive been so preoccupied with my return to work and its subsequent knock on effect AKA sleeping that Ive rather neglected it.

It was to my very pleasant surprise that way back in April this year that Tattooed Mummy had tagged me in this meme.

Rules:

1. Open your first (oldest) photo folder in your computer library or album etc
2. Scroll to the 10th photo
3. Post the photo and the story behind it
4. Tag 5 or more people to continue the thread

Well here's mine

This is a photo of my lovely Mumma holding my first born Little W. He was born on Valentines day, the only boy born at the hospital that day and the day after her birthday. A very lovely present I'm sure you'll agree. Its a precious picture because she's no longer here. Ive lots of photos but none compare to this one really, the first hold of a first grandson. Lovely.

So now to tagging, which I'm not that good at/scared to do/don't know anyone who hasn't done this one. So sorry I'll have to get back to this bit!

Its Good to Talk You Know ....

2010-08-28T03:44:00.000-07:00

Communication, talking, making yourself understood, call it what you will its deffo good to talk and by jingo I love to talk! Talk about the weather, no problem. Talk about giving birth to my sweet children, no problem. Talk about the time's when I've made a total idiot of myself (there have been a few!), no problem. Talk to colleagues, no problem. Talk to my sister on the phone for hours, no problem. Call me Gabbyannie chitter chatter!!!!

So there's no problem is there. Well hang on a minute (insert sound of scratched quickly stopped record) yes there is. A big problem that I have everyday and that's finding time to talk with my spouse. Some people consider this situation a blessing and some people take this situation and make it into an art-form.

For me this is a big no-no. The seemingly easy option to ignore or to not talk a problem over or withdraw from talking all together as a sign of distress is never an option for me but the 'but' is sometimes there is no time to do it. Time to do X, Y, Z is a recurring theme for me these days. I'm tired from being at work he's tired from being at home with the children. Sounds familiar right. I'm hooked on Twitter (not much of a revelation there!) basically talking to people for the most part that Ive never met (I love you all you know) and he's hooked on watching TV (mans TV all the stuff I cant stand and he gets away with it because of Twitter!!!)

So is that the norm for people, I think sadly perhaps it might be. (Your lucky if its not, you can stop reading if that's the case :))

There is an additional dimension to our dilemma with my lovely hubby, he is a hearing aid user. My Mr has no hearing in one ear and limited hearing in the other. The magical digital hearing devise has a 'Loop' system which enables him, with the aid of a special adaption (read technical explanation: black box thingy on back of the telly) to totally zone into the audio on the TV but with one drawback, he then cant hear me. (I know blessing in disguise for some of you male types). I can start a conversation and then realise that I have to gain his attention, usually by vigorously waving my hand near his face, only to start the conversation again. Can be frustrating for both of us!

So communication for us two can sometimes be a comedy of errors and can and has at times caused confusion and upset for us both. Each occasion of misunderstanding has quickly been worked out but still the underlying problem exists. Finding the time to be alone and talk.

Back to my Twitter addiction. I occasionally see that my twitter chums have the same problem. A partner or other half that they are having trouble communicating with. The situations are numerous and their heartfelt 'tweets' are answered with concern and love for the most part, this is one of the wonders of Twitter for me. At least they have a forum in which to discuss their situation which is good.

Having had a massive block in the blogging department (ouchy!) this common problem became the prompt for this post which I think is kind of good!!! Just in case some of you are wondering no direct comparison is being drawn from anyone I may have contact with on Twitter. It's just an overall observation that in this age of enlightenment and ever surpassing technology that we can utilise to talk freely and without reserve it seems that actual communication at home can fall down as a result.

I began to think of my own situation with my lovely Mr and what can we do to remedy it. Lack of a baby sitter prevents us from going out, the last time we did was just before the girls were born nearly 5 years ago. Yes sadly that long. We have been out as a family you understand but not as a couple and here in lies the problem. Setting time to be alone and talk.

As most of our time is taken up with the children (isn't every one's) at least we are acknowledging to each other that this needs to be addressed and that is a start. Remember when you first met your other half and the hours of talking and exchanging information about yourself and your past lives? I think whilst I'm on holiday we may have supper together (when our trio are safely asleep) one evening at the dining table with candles and napkins and turn off the lappy and TV and pretend we've just met and talk and talk and talk.

Love Joy and Laughter

Careyannie

Wordless Wednesday ....

2010-04-26T06:32:00.000-07:00

In the Thick of it!!!

2010-02-28T04:12:00.000-08:00

Well its been a while since my last blog. Wow that sounds like a confession! I'm finding that my time is now not all my own. With the early morning starts exhilarating thought provoking work world and early retiring to bed why is there not more time in each allotted 24 hrs.

Everything is now falling quite naturally into another routine. This is a routine I'm rather enjoying. Even walking to work in the rain has a certain joie de vivre especially when accompanied with my ipod. Id quite forgotten the magic of fast paced walking whilst listening to ones favourite music.

All past feelings of worry and anxiety have dissipated to distant memory, I am happy and fulfilled. Lovely!!

My other half has risen to the challenge of solo parenting whilst I am at work. He is becoming more adept at the art of house-work. Becoming master of all he surveys inclusive of the washing baskets and washing machine. A feat I had only just recently thought would never happen. I feel that we have become two halves of the same team instead of the solos we where before. Decisions are easier made and easier put into place.

It has not all been plain sailing though. There are times when I return to a home that is less organised than I would like it. Clothes drying in sundry places coats are not on coat hooks shoes are not in pairs in the hall way. There are I would say certain things and places that a person of the opposite sex namely a man would not choose or think to clean. I'm not being sexist here at all for the men who read this, not a bit. However I do think that a woman does detail more then some men. If this caused offence I'm sorry but do read on I may yet prove my point!

Here are a few places that my Mr 'forgot' to do. The crumb tray on the toaster! The cooker hood and filter, its at his eye height so come on!! I'm being really naughty now, the toilet seat, bowl, rim, pedestal, handle ok the whole thing really. The shower curtains and shower head. Around the taps on all our sinks. The inside of the washing machine where the powder goes in. See just a few little things that I might 'do' daily (toilet sink taps crumb tray) or bi-weekly the rest. There is more but I wont bore you with the details cos you might know of them too!! I am not complaining because he might take the hump but I do appreciate that he is at present my apprentice and not yet my match. One day, soon, maybe!!

You see these things are just not important as they once where to me. Order and neatness have previously been very close to my heart. They made me happy and gave me a sense of control. These occasions are just little reminders of my past life at home. They are so not worthy of worrying about anymore because time is short and precious. Now Id rather sit with my wees and share their day and all the things Ive not been around to whitness. I do miss them terribly. Of course I knew I would but by how much was greatly underestimated.

Without a doubt the wees have missed me too. They rush to the door as I come in full of joy and laughter. They have grown up a notch over night it seems and without me. Not only do they have their secret world that is school they now have the secret world of being with their Daddy. The wees have asked me how long will I be going to work. They have told me that they don't like it and I must stop going and stay at home. These simple statements have gripped my heart and made me a little sad. Big W has missed me too. He says he feels like an limb has been cut off! This is kind of lovely to know and keeps me going in a strange kind of way.

Looking back on the last five or so years where I have been at home with my lovely brave wees fills me with pride. Constantly by their side consistently their main carer whilst Big W was at work. For me this time has become the corner stone of their lives something that will always be there. My going back to work is change but it is good change and I feel we have all benefited from it happening.

My re-entry to the land of work has been a smooth-ish transition. My new colleagues are fabulous and very supportive. They have not for one minute made me feel inadequate for not knowing how to do something. The only person who has been hard on me has been me. I am now learning not to be. My confidence is building. I am returning to a version of my old self that I recognise as competent and for me competence is very attractive!

If you are returning to the workplace just take a leaf from my blog, don't be hard on yourself and enjoy it because although its work it is in fact me time!!!!

Love Joy and Laughter
Careyannie

Im Back!!!!!!!!!

2010-02-04T11:11:00.001-08:00

Those who know about these things will say that the modern woman has it all. In some ways I tend to agree, we can now have the best of both worlds. It is our choice to stay at home or go to work or do something not unlike the plate juggling act you can see at a circus.

Me Ive been at home for just over 4 years. No mean feat I can tell you! Times they are a-changing in the Careyannie household. Mummy went back to her old work world this week and how did it all go????

Fantastically, of course. The whole thing was all that I expected and wanted it to be. Oh and so much more. Getting up early for the commute via train. The perfect work outfit chosen and donned with glee. Extra spray of perfume and confident slick of perfect coloured lipstick. The joyful scamper to the station with cheerful pride in my step. Sitting next to strangers bumping arms and morning smiles.

A short jaunt across town to my new daytime abode. Breathless excitement and a small tremble of fear. Negotiating security coded gates and doors. Careful footsteps into the lions den.

New faces and names to remember. New chair and desk. New computer systems to navigate. Light bulb moments as tried and tested methods emerged from my Mummy-One-Brain-Celled mind.

Moments of inner turmoil and lack of confidence. Being hard on myself for not knowing. Crying inside with much relief when buttons pressed changed into the correct order. Producing documents of great beauty from excel and word. New girl worries shaken off and ego boosted.

Of course I had a few wobbles. More noteworthy I'm sure have been had. Walking out the building and finding security gates that 'do not work' for me. Suddenly realising its push and not pull! The final 'blonde' moment as I'm on the wrong platform and too tired to walk to the correct one. Dragging myself onto the train and trying to stay awake fighting with its cosy rhythmical undulation.

Arriving at my destination and seeing my children run towards me in slow motion. A very 'The Railway Children' moment as they thundered into my arms.
Husband smiling relieved to be with me again.

I am back.

This post is dedicated to my lovely Mumma who's birthday it is today.

You know they are growing up when

2010-02-04T07:06:00.001-08:00

......... the little darlings do any or all of the following-

When little they require each apple they eat to be cored, peeled and sliced at every occasion. No trace of peel on any of the slices which must be as near as you can get to transparent and displayed attractively on the plate of their choice. Now grown up little ones can bite, slurp, gulp, chomp and generally masticate with undaunted enthusiasm with no comments and no requests to do the former.

When little each child is super glued to your hips and will not cannot go anywhere without you. Now grown up when their Daddy, Grandad, Auntie or other significant adult is around its now 'Mummy who???'

Little people put on the clothes that you choose for them to wear. Well ok, when little you put the clothes on but now they are grown up there is a major crisis with much discussion and pleading each morning and evening as little person displays diva like status declaring 'I'm not going to wear that ever again'.

Now grown up. Darling child looks up at you with a fashion editors '20 years in the business I was just at a Milan catwalk' esk stare and declares 'Mummy don't wear that coat again you look like an egg in it'. What happened to 'Oh Mummy you look beautiful' especially when your wearing the ever trusty just going to school jeans and fleece combo???

Feeding time can be a joy or complete torment whether little or grown up. A clean plate either means they are really hungry and/or they really liked what you have cooked for them. You know when they've grown up because even if they did like what you've cooked for them its often said 'Yer Mum that was nice but lets not have it again soon'.

These are just a few of the small changes that I have observed my children doing over the last few days. Sometimes its seems as though my eyes have momentarily closed and opened again to witness my adorable trio have developed into incredible wee people.

Love Joy & Laughter
Careyannie

Wordless Wednesday!!

2010-02-03T09:59:00.000-08:00

Mummys tea towels are the most fun ever!!!

Fear, Age and Foot in Mouth!!!!

2010-02-03T00:41:00.000-08:00

The following is a meant to be a light hearted response to the wrighting workshop #12 posted on 'Sleep is for the weak' by Josie

You have no idea how hard it was to type the following with my right eye scrunched closed and my left squinted. Do I really want to blog this???

Hello Are they your Grand Children????

Just a little phrase a mere modicum of words that sound so innocent but at the time felt like someone had slapped me in the face with a large very wet very heavy fish!!

How and where did this outrageous occasion occur? In the school playground that's where.
Who uttered these dastardly words? A fellow parent and husband of one of the School Yard Mummy's (SYM) that's who. Not only that but the husband of one of the said SYM I regularly talk to. In explaination Iam I have to admit slightly allergic still to school premises and as a concequence am still a little first form before the headmaster timid about it all!! '

I quickly explained in a quiet voice with a hint of smile that they 'were indeed my own children' and 'No I Was not their Gandmother'. He must have seen the look of slight shock on my face and with the addition of my explanation he quickly apologised for his transgression. I added further that 'I must start wearing more make up' -to use the vernacular 'slap' - and also said 'That it was quite alright and not to worry about it'.

It has long been my 'habit' to let people off with their little 'faux pas' as its a regular 'habit' of mine to exhibit a little bit of 'foot in mouth' myself. Really, it was not 'meant'. For this lovely person is a trainee Doctor who works inordinately long hours and so quite it was forgivable really, as his eyes where red rimmed with fatigue.

I gathered my brood about me and journeyed home. Luckily for me its a quick walk back to base and the loving embrace of my darling Mr. A large sweet cup of tea and hugs later I told him of my 'incident' and how upset I was. Of course being my Mr he was very upset and hurt too. I'm only 44yrs old. However I don't wear a lot of make up or glamorous clothing when doing the school run, really who does??

My thoughts turned to a similar occasion that I had witnessed with my own Mumma. (Being born 9 years after my sister Mumma was 36 yrs old then.) So this similar occasion happened whilst out shopping with Mumma I was about 7yrs old. A lady who lived in the next street to us asked Mumma if ' I was her grand daughter?' Mumma told her she was mistaken. The 'lady' stated there was a large age gap between me and my sister. Was 'I' she asked 'A mistake?'

Horrors! Needless to say Mumma, quite rightly, politely told her she was mistaken. She looked down at me and smiled turning to the 'lady' and said I 'was not a mistake' and was infact 'a very much loved and cherished child '. In doing so she kept her dignity firmly in place and walked away with aplom!

The memory of this has obviously become emblazoned on my mind and to have the same thing said to me, almost, well I ask you, who wouldn't feel affronted and aggrieved??!!

Perhaps the real reason for feeling a little miffed by these words is that I do actually feel a little worse for wear! I feel that sometimes, only sometimes, this whole child bearing child raising malarkey is jolly hard work. I look back to the way I used to look. Slim and taught of skin!! I would not for the world and all its glories go back in time to have that body again. Why because that's my pre child body. Sometimes it is quite a relief not to worry about it all and become pleasantly content with how I now look.

You can of course have it all nipped tucked sucked and botoxed if that's what you want but I'm scared of needles and I kind of like that my face has expression and erm well character. Well the only remedy for salvaging my own dignity and obliterated ego was a trip to the hairdressers. My lovely friend there brightened my hair to within an inch of actually being white and cut and shaped my locks into a lovely swooshy cutting edge bob. Hurrah for the skills of that lovely lady, I was reborn!!

This 'incident' for me was yet another kind of parallel connection to my Mumma. It made me think of how she may have felt at the time this happened to her. Again it feels like its just history repeating its self and again lesson learned!

Don't let an innocent remark make you sad and if perhaps it does, go out and make it better by doing something for yourself!!!

Love Joy & Laughter
Careyannie

Thank You Very Much Meme

2010-01-28T06:33:00.000-08:00

With the previous post done and dusted I had a mini brainwave. Here it comes. If someone can tag me for a meme why dont I make up my own. With my limited skills and increasing confidence I thought of this.

The Thank You Very Much Meme!!!
(disclaimer - if there is one already sorry)
The rules are simply:-
To thank at least three people who have been kind or have randomly helped inspired or have just plain made you laugh out loud when you really needed it.

I would like to thank Dotty at http://www.dottymummy.co.uk
This lovely lady inspired me to start off my blog and was my first follower too. Dotty you are lovely I'll never get tired of saying it. Just when I thought Twitter was not for me I followed this lovely and so glad I did. Thank you very much.

Another brilliant tweeter Dotterel who very kindly mentioned me in his own blog Bringing up Charlie http://www.bringingupcharlie.co.uk A very nice thing to do and very much appreciated by yours truly. Thank you very much.

The Twitterverse celebrity who needs no introduction is Dame Crusty Gussett http://crustygussets.blogspot.com who is very kind funny and very gracious. This lovely lady's blog is a marvelous diversion from the everyday grind and an exceptionally good read!! Mwah Mwah Darling one Mwah. Thank you very much.

Would also like to give a big shout out to WonkyNana another lovely twitter friend and a super lovely person. A gorgeous lady who just makes the whole tweet thing such a joy. Thank you very much.

So in order to say it out loud here is a little clip that says it all.

Thats it in a nutshell. Simplicity is always best I think. This is just a way of spreading the 'lovely' that is sometimes found in our lives. Everyone has someone who can be thanked so do it now!!!!

Love Joy and Laughter
Careyannie

A Shiny Happy People Meme

2010-01-28T03:08:00.000-08:00

Blogging is just the loveliest creative medium Im really enjoying getting to grips with it all. So imagine my amazment to find that I have been tagged by the very lovely Mich at Mummy from the heart to have a go at Rose Scribble's Shiny Happy People Meme. Well my flabber is ghasted and thanks to Mich, you are lovely!!

The rules of this meme are -

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

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

My immediate emotion was joy followed by shear terror which I shall translate to you politely as 'what the dickens have I got myself into now'!! You see its all new to me and my blogging layout skills are in their infancy. Really I should just confess here and now that my overall IT skills are less than zero. So with trepidation I looked into the 'how to do it pages' on blogger. Oh how my head hurt.

In order to quell my fears and raise my spirits I opened itunes and clicked on my favorite playlist entitled 'closing time' this is one that I can listen to at the end of a stressful day and drift away to a comfortable blissful sleep. The end track on this playlist is my favourite classical piece. I can listen to this at anytime and it both inspires and completely lightens my mind.

Here is a youtube clip - she proudly types - Ive managed to upload - yay me!

Mária Kovalszki piano, at the Academy of Music Ferenc Liszt, Budapest playing Clair de Lune from Suite Bergamasque composed by Debussy.

So not a song but a piece of music. Powerful emotional much loved. To me its happy music and fills you with hope and joy and elevates my mood immediately the first notes are played. Having no musical skills myself except to play the flute - badly, I admire anyone who has 'real' musical tallent.

Next the photograph that makes me smile. Well how do I narrow it down? Of all the images I have there are a few that really are quite precious to me. This one was taken the first time I met my lovely 'other son' J. He is a fabulous young man charming with a hint of shy. I only had an inkling then of how much I would come to love him.

The picture was taken in my parents living room. I am very obviously showing J my then new camera. He is a very inquisitive boy and is always asking questions. The level of inquisitiveness over the years has increased so I had to give him a '10 a day' question level. This made him think before asking and gave time to compose myself for the next question!

Pictures of our family and friends become a cohesive link between us all. They show the miles stones of life and just by looking at them we can remember the emotions we were feeling right at that moment. This is the 'gift' we all have which enables us to connect with each other. It always amazes me how as humans we can evoke strong attachements with the mere sound of a particular song, picture, book or smell and that is no small thing.

Im a new blogger and one who does not yet feel 'worthy' of tagging anyone. So if you would like to play then your 'it'.

Love Joy & Laughter

Careyannie

Simple Pleasures in Life are Free!

2010-01-24T03:41:00.000-08:00

Usually at the beginning of each new year we are all accustomed to making some sort of statement of intent for the coming 12 months. Mine is to try and remember to stop and enjoy the moment a little more instead of moving on to the next 'thing'.

During the last 12 months that were frankly sometimes quite horrible I have reawakened my love of things that are free or that cost very little. We've all had to tighten our purse strings and for me this enforced frugality has been quite a joy. Making the pounds stretch has made me more creative and quite giddy with pleasure.

So the following is for me to look at in the coming months a wee taster of the things that make me smile for those times when perhaps I cannot!

Children's laughter and smiling faces. My lovely wees seem so grown up now and their enjoyment of the small things in life is one of the simple pleasures that for me as a Mummy keeps me going.

The children's empty plates at whatever time of day they have eaten. Singing 'yummy yummy in my tummy' and patting themselves to show that they are full up is just a joy.

Getting into a freshly made bed after a long day smelling the cottony freshness and feeling the luxurious crispness is something I will never tire of. Every time I make my bed I look forward to snuggling in it so making the bed is never a chore for me.

Walking in any weather, preferably sunny but I'm not fussy, in any location. Just being under your own steam solo or with family and friends. Visiting time honoured favourite places or virgin territory it doesn't really matter. Walking for me its the one thing that I can do that doesn't cost anything to do and clears the cobwebs every time.

Looking at old photographs. This is one of my favourite things to do. Rainy cold unpleasant day get the albums out and reminisce. Laugh at the clothes you were wearing or remember the occasion you were celebrating. Actual photographs are so much better than looking at them on the computer and my parents old family albums are true treasure and priceless.

Cheap and cheerful the smell of new mown grass. Its a smell that's is so redolent of spring and summer the seasons I enjoy the most. The luscious heady scent of oozing greeness is one that I don't think anyone could reproduce artificially nor would I want them too.

Reading at anytime in any location but especially in a freshly made bed when feeling under par and needing to recharge. Sometimes picking up a book is a luxury for me these days but I always try to find time to read before bedtime. For me its the perfect way to unwind. I also love reading with my wees its a good 'time out' method when they get too wound up and you can always sneak in a cuddle along the way.

Going to Car Boot Sales. Not necessarily free but still a good reason to get up early on a Sunday morning and tramp around a field in any weather and find some geegaw or other. I love finding unusual unloved wee things and bringing them home to stay in my cupboard to be rehabilitated and become loved again. Its my duty to buy them, it is!

Taking photographs. I always have my camera with me, digital and precious. Its the one thing apart from my handbag that the wees are not to touch. My family are camera fanatics and every family celebration feels like a crowd of paparazzi have swarmed upon us. Apart from the printing out its free and I love it because I can 'feel' creative and 'Arty' even though I'm not!!

So that's it. A small list of free things that can raise a smile when your feeling grumpy. This is the thing my Mumma would have called 'Counting your blessings' an age old 'tradition' that's as relevant today as it's ever been.

Love Joy and Laughter

Careyannie

The Down Side!!

2010-01-23T07:20:00.000-08:00

You do not get an instruction manual with your children. There are many fascinating facts that are alluded to but you just don't know 'how to' until you actually need to. Babies do not sleep in the prescibed fashion and you will probably never sleep in the same pattern or amount as you did before kids. In fact sleep deprivation is the one thing that I had never thought would be as bad as it in fact is.

One of the many other fascinating mysteries of Mother Hood is the never ending amount of washing that 'you' are in charge of doing. Daddies do try but my Big W claims not to even know how to open the door never mind put the blessed thing on. There is an instruction manual that I have placed in the cupboard located over the counter top that the washing machine lives under. I could send this piece of ephemera to a scientific laboratory for testing and I would be told that there was no other trace DNA found on it other than mine!

I have come to the conclusion that the washing is indeed an entity in its own right. It lives in the country of 'Washing Basquet' a principality of the utility room and its inhabitants multiply roughly in the formulae of the following algebraic-esk breakdown:-

6 people x 5 items of clothing/ 24hrs x 7 days/week = 2 huge basquets de washing. (This equation does not encorporate the towels, tea towels, bedding etc.)

It seems that although the washing machine (7kg capacity) is on every day that the population of the said principality of the utility room remains at a constant 2 baskets for the majority of the week. I am not a meticulous every day all day tidier! I only claim to be in full 'domestic goddess' mode perhaps everyother day, twitter allowing. Hoping that I have reduced the basket issue to the singular by fair means or fowl, it appears that I am indeed wrong. Tidy house means full washing baskets.

I do on occasion give the wardrobes and chest of drawers a periodical clean out. This often produces a reduction in the clothes population. However birthdays and Christmas and school uniform and dressing up clothes and hand-me-downs supplant all my hard work and the status quo is re-enforced to the said 2 often over flowing baskets.

This Mummy lives in hope that someday Big W will open the cupboard door or indeed ask for instruction from myself in the joys of washing machine operation techniques. In the mean time I struggle on with the light at the end of the tunnel that we either become nudists or that the children will someday decide to help out too.

Love Joy and Laughter

Careyannie

Mummy the Milk Maid

2010-01-22T09:07:00.000-08:00

Many times the choices we make in life often mirror the ones that our parents make. Unconscious decisions that are inherent and somewhat unchangeable. This is how I feel my decision to breast feed my children was 'made'. Mumma and sister breastfed so I did too. I didn't have to think about it really.

For me just the thought of all that bottle washing sterilising milk powder measuring shaking the bottles warming the bottle washing the bottles. Never ending and it cost money. Breast feeding was a simple choice for me but if you don't want to that's fine, if you cant for whatever reason, that's fine too. For me it was no contest. The whole 'issue' of wether to or not is a choice that was easy for me and I know that Im one of the lucky ones who wanted to and could.

Feeding L'W was the most fun right from the start it was lovely and drew us close together in that bonding way thats so important. I hadnt gone to any classes about 'how to do' but I do remember the midwife 'showing' me how to do it in the hospital. I was doing it all wrong you see! I listened and nodded in the appropriate places. She left the room satisfied that she had done her job. I took no notice of what she said and just did what I had been doing before she had come into my room unannounced and unasked for.

I had been feeding him for the past 3 days. If I was doing it wrong then why was he happy and asleep when she came in????? Don't get me wrong she did say some relevant stuff like position of baby's head to nipple and stuff like that but I really wasn't listening to her because I was so tired!!!

I fed L'W for about a year and a bit. Loved it every minute of it. So when the girls came I didn't think about it and just did what I'd done the last time! Obviously its more time consuming with two mouths but I had two boobs so I fed them both at the same time if they were both awake.

L'W really didn't know what to make of it. Not only were there two other babies around but Mummy was ever so busy with them and not with him. He was 23 months old then and still very much a baby to me. He was very good though looking back. Big W and I prepared the way as much as we could but he was so young he didn't really know he was to be somewhat usurped by the girls.

Both girls soon got the hang of the 'rugger ball' position and we got along very well. Big W had the song 'Lovely Rita Meter Maid' permanently running through his mind and sang the words 'Lovely Annie Milky Maid' instead. I did laugh but sometimes felt I was permanently hooked up and at full capacity.

Being night feeders at first it was really hard work. Both of them never really slept for long. Some nights it would be baby feeding by steady rotation! I'm very proud that I 'lasted' for over a year but felt that it was time to finish when they could follow on to cows milk. My thoughts on breastfeeding over this point are that if you want to then that's ok but for my own sanity and the real need for proper sleep I happily stopped.

There is a big issue about breast feeding. The need for Mothers to be able to do so in public without anyone saying something is one that really needs to be sorted out. I had never been asked not to but I remember being in a restaurant with L'W and asking for somewhere quiet to do the necessary and was shown the disabled toilet!!! Needless to say I declined the invitation. My lovely Dad came to my aid. 'Lets sit in the bar for a wee minute' he said. Finding a round back comfortable chair I sat with my back to the bar quickly discretly whipped up my top and commenced. Dad sat sentry, no one saw, no one objected. Job done!

National statistics show breast feeding on the decline. The reason for this can in my opinion be layed quite firmly at the door of toy manufacturers. That's right, doll makers. All dolly's are equipped with bottles for feeding. Why is it that young girls are shown from the early years to emulate this method??? So that toy manufacturers can sell dolls. Who would buy a doll for their daughter, grand daughter, child's friend if it came with strap on faux boobs for feeding. It just would never happen.

When my girls get dolly's now with toy bottles I conveniently loose the bottles. I tell my girls how they were fed when babies. I don't make it an issue but I'm not preconditioning them to use a bottle with their children if they have them. We are not advocating one method over another and will leave it up to them in the hope that they take on the family tradition.

Love Joy and Laughter

Careyannie

This post is a lighthearted piece on my own experience of breast feeding. I do appreciate that there are more 'angles' to the issue but I can only comment on my own situation.

The First of Many

2010-01-20T12:39:00.000-08:00

Now a Mummy to new born twins I had no idea how excited the rest of the world was going to be about it all. Mistakenly I thought that our family and friends would be the ones who would be as keen as mustard to help out. How wrong I was.

At first my sister came over to help out and my sister in law was good too and apart from my lovely friends coming over to see the girls but nothing regular no practical help. I was a bit upset by this after the initial 'clammer' to see them, zilch.

Perhaps everyone thought they'd be in the way or thought we didn't need any help. Perhaps because I was breast feeding and constantly they may have been embarrassed at the thought of me 'double boobing', I guess I'll never really know. Goodness I would have loved someone just to come in and make a cup of tea or put some washing on.

The task in hand was mammoth it seemed and both Big W and I were a little overwhelmed with the enormity of it all. We were absolutely pooped out in more ways than one!! Looking back on it now I realised that this was good for us, a complete crash course. We just got on with things and muddled through the first few weeks.

Life is a series of firsts and now we had twin firsts. It was lovely to see them progress and see their quite individual personalities become clear. Twin I was quiet and sleepy. Twin II was noisy and very hungry. Just 10 minuets between them but poles apart already.

The girls as we became accustomed to calling them thrived and grew and were just so lovely. All the fears I had built up in my head of looking after them magically disappeared into fairy dust. I felt invincible and so so proud to be their Mummy. Despite the apparent lack of family interest neighbours and people in the street always commented.

We could not walk more than 10 or so feet from our front door without being stopped. A quick jaunt around the block in our double side by side pram and 'buggy board' for L'W took a good while! Of course all this attention was lovely and we had the usual comments 'Are they twins'!! and 'You've got your hands full' but it was welcome and made us feel great.

One of our very memorable firsts with the girls was a trip to the local supermarket. Usually it took about an hour to get round this trip took twice as long. Its a two floor supermarket and there were so many people in it!! Everyone smiled at the girls who were securely strapped into the trolley. Nearly all the lovely people who commented had twins themselves. It was really nice to hear their own twin stories.

One very glamorous looking lady explained about her daughters being twins and all grown up. I looked at her and thought they would be in their twenty's maybe judging by her appearance. She told me that they were just turning 49 years old. I was absolutely taken aback and said before I could stop myself 'You really don't look old enough' The lady politely laughed with me and said 'They do keep you looking young'. It was a nice change from 'You've got your hands full'!!

I think this trip out caught my imagination because it made me realise that there are so many families that have twins or more. It gave me a sense of not being alone and made me feel more confident about my situation. Remember there are no twins or multiple births in either of our families. I had no prior knowledge of what it all would mean to our lives.

So to all the twins and more families that I talked to in those early days Thank You so much you'll never know how much it helped!!

The Forget-me-not Book & The Optimists Creed

2010-01-12T01:20:00.000-08:00

The Home Straight

2010-01-11T10:52:00.000-08:00

The girls due date was the end of January. They are non identical twins so there were no expected problems with the oncoming birth. My health was excellent and their growth and movement was as it should be. Not unlike a 'mexican wave' two heads, four elbows, four shoulders, four hands, four knees, four feet poked prodded stretched and undulated inside me.

I loved it all and the birth was going to be one of the most spectacular days of my life, that was a given! Christmas came and went and New Year . Two days later, I lay supine on the couch and decided to rise. It is possible for me to relive this moment in slo-mo. It felt as if all the dams of the world had just given in as my waters broke. Slightly unpleasant feeling for a second or two shortly followed by intense and utter joy. I was on the home straight.

Having settled L'W with my sister in law off we dashed to hospital. As a second time Mum I wasted no time in asking where to go what to do and went straight to the delivery suite and the 'holding pen' aka waiting room. Big W was left trailing behind in my wake and eventually caught me up. A short time later I was in the designated area and ready to rumble!!

Big W worked nights and was still bleary eyed from the night before. He hadn't eaten much that day either and as the midwife prepared me for possible operation theatre intervention with a cannula in my hand he went. The merest glimpse of needle and my heavy grunting and moaning had sent him into a faint.

Here I am preparing for the girls debut and hes out cold on the floor. Brilliant! I couldn't talk for huffing and puffing. The midwife attended to him, brought him round, sat him on a chair and sent for tea and toast!! My lovely husband will do anything for attention or food!! The midwife then took one look at me and said 'Theres no time for pain relief your about ready' . With gritted teeth I simply nodded my head in agreement.

The midwife was a very capable woman I could just see the years of experience oozing out of her. My first labour was long and hard. It was a scary feeling as it was time to start to push. It seemed a matter of minuets and there she was out and beautiful and perfect and pink. A doctor came in to assist. He held onto my bump in order to stop the one left in there from turning. He looked like he was about to score a try in rugby!

The midwife asked me could she break my waters for me so that Twin II would be born on the same day! Where had the time gone??? Hours had passed as though mere seconds. A further ten minuets later she was out and it was beautiful and perfect and pink times two!! Each baby was checked and bundled up tight. I have to add that none of the clothes that I had bought were suitable as they were so tiny! It hadn't even occurred to me that they would be so small but it was no matter because they were here at last and my family was complete.

Love Joy and Laughter

Careyannie

Welcome to the land of Pink!!

2010-01-10T12:23:00.000-08:00

My lovely friends all of whom were pregnant around the same time as I was with L'W all had boys. We would get together for the occasional Mummy Meet and the subject of pink and girls was always raised. I never thought that another pregnancy would happen for me and after the trip to Dinas Dinlle and the double barrelled conception I was indeed again with child.

This time a 'different' feeling about how this pregnancy felt made me think something was 'wrong'. There was in fact something 'different' not 'wrong' and this 'different' was my body telling me 'There is two in there not one!!'

The pregnancy was an easy one despite the first intuative 'wrongness' and of course extreme fatigue coupled with painful back and legs. There is no history of twins in either of our respective families. Big W and I had just gotten into our stride with having our lovely L'W who would be nearly two just after the twins due date. We pinched ourselves several times a day to see if we were dreaming.

All children are precious that's an undeniable truth. Having never felt overly maternal even one child was a huge and unexpected thrill. Early on in the first pregnancy it dawned on me that this is what I had really wanted for a long time. However, when I left the hospital with L'W the midwife said 'See you again' and I said 'Oh no you won't!!' Little did I know then that the universe had listened to that conversation and said 'Oh yes you will!'

Not being the best person with regard to waiting for anything I knew that we had to know at the 20 week scan what the sex of the babies was going to be. The thought of the scan was so exciting and I counted the days and finally it came. Such a momentous occasion as you can imagine and off we trotted to the hospital. There were a lot of multiple pregnancies this year and we always had a long wait to be seen to.

Once our turn had come we ran to the allocated room as if we were running a race, we could not wait to get in there. The preliminaries were quickly over with we waited for the question 'Did we want to know the sex of the babies'. A resounding yes from us both, waiting with baited breath, the answer positively both female. Pink. Pink. How lovely. Finally I had addressed the balance of the family now we would be 3 boys 3 girls.

If you have a boy yourself then you know that the combinations and permutation's of the male colour palette are not that good. Now I was quite firmly and quite excitedly in the land of pink. I couldn't wait to get stuck in and buy buy buy. The fabulous thing was I could submerge myself in the colour of choice and not only that I could buy two of everything with the sublime knowledge that I could never ever be told 'You'll never use all those'!!!

I am born on the cusp of Virgo and Libra and a lovely place it is to be. I have all the neatness and efficiency of Virgo plus the desire for balance and need for excess of Libra. Its a joyous and lovely combination!! After telling the family of the imminent pink fest to come I did what any hormonally charged expectant Mummy would do and went shopping.

Woggling around the shops I was reminded how little there was in the clothing lines for boys and drooled and gawped at the racks and racks of girly stuff. Crochet cardigans, hats, frilly dresses. Pink and pink and more pink. Cute rabbits and delightful applique flowers, ribbons, covered buttons, silky satin, lace and broiderie-anglais, delicate gingham, bows, ruffles and sequins galore.

The possibilities were endless and the thrill of it all was that one day very soon these clothes would actually have little princesses inside them. I chose carefully and tried to be as practical as possible and I am glad to say failed in my task and very happily!!

Blame it on Dinas Dinlle

2010-01-09T04:31:00.000-08:00

As a single lady having children of my own was not a thing I ever contemplated. When I met Big W and we married we talked about it and whilst talking about it L'W came along on a very cold Valentines Day. Hes a clever and very loving child. Adorable, cheeky and sweet. Big W had an older son J so our family was complete. Or so we thought!!

My first pregnancy was mostly spent in bed with morning sickness and then a troublesome back. Apart from that all went swimmingly and the birth was the usual story for a first time mum, long protracted labour with lots of pain. Funny how other Mothers do not tell you about this or any other part of pregnancy or birth. You only 'know' when you are actually doing it, then your part of the club!!

I went back to work after Maternity. I had a job that allowed me to take time off so I took the time, I'm lucky to have been able to do that and make no distinction between me or any other Mum, you do what you have to do, simple as that.

So one day I was drinking some water and it tasted 'funny' and I was unusually tired. I went home via Boots and did a test with Big W, I was pregnant again! Both of us were delighted. An appointment at the Doctors and the 'process' started again. An administrative error with the hospital gave me an appointment for a scan at 8 weeks. I said to Big W 'Lets take my Mumma and Dad they've never seen an 'ultrasound scan' so we did.

So there are 4 adults and L'W in the pram. We stood in the queue as you do and the receptionist said 'your appointment is too early but as your here now you can go ahead'. I will say this I did 'feel' different this time. I couldn't put my finger on it but it felt 'wrong' somehow. I was worried about this feeling and was really glad the appointment was early.

We had the scan, my Mumma came in with us. Dad stayed outside, ever the gentleman. Quite what he thought was 'happening' inside I've never asked as he's a shy guy so who knows!! The lovely lady doing the scan said 'Any twins in the family' We all laughed expecting it to be a joke, 'No' I said 'there's only one in there' 'Oh no' she said 'IT IS TWINS'.

The emotion's that ran through me at that point were of sheer joyful excitement shortly followed by slight momentary panic and me then going through the mental list of the double everything that we would now need. My Mumma was smiling tears in her eyes as we watched the monitor and saw two clear and distinct circular shapes on the screen. Big W ran outside to tell my Dad, they are both deaf and wear hearing aids so Big W shouted at the top of his lungs all over the waiting room 'ITS TWINS' My Dad shouted back even louder 'TWINS' and with that the whole hospital knew!!!

So that is the story of how funny tasting water and the feeling of 'wrongness' was my body telling me 'this time kid its different'. Previously to this momentous occasion we had taken a little trip to Wales in our Motor Home to a lovely sleepy seaside town called Dinas Dinlle where I'm sure the wonderful magic of Wales gave us our lovely twins. A double barrelled conception!!

Love joy and laughter

Careyannie

Peggys Letter

2010-01-07T11:56:00.000-08:00

Peggys Letter.

I didn't have to wait that long. A week I think, a long week but only a week nonetheless. A padded 'jiffy' bag arrived with Peggy's familiar handwriting. A short letter and a small spiral bound note book.

Peggy's letter told me that she was glad to have received my letter and was happy to tell me what I wanted to know. She had somewhat mistakenly thought I wanted to write a book about my Mumma. Well that was something I had never thought of but I liked the idea. So this small notebook contained the very details that I had either forgotten or had never been privy to.

It took an hour or so to find the time to sit so I would not be disturbed, wees nap time and L'W at Nursery, time enough. Just nine pages had been written on but the information held on those pages were precious and lovely and were about my Mumma so each word gold dust to me.

So here is How Peggy met Betty as taken from her narative.

I think the year we met was 1948. I being the ‘new girl’ joining the work force at ‘Myrtle Farm’ in Poulton-le-Fylde.

There were two girls belonging to the Women’s Land Army (WLA), Betty and Mary, two men and two boys. The main occupation was poultry farming in a big way. The owner William Hamnett, was known world wide for exporting birds and chicks.

Starting a new job is always daunting, but I was so relieved to be welcomed by this petite dark haired girl with a ‘scouse accent’, who proceeded to show me the ropes. I knew all about general farm work and well used to handling cows, horses, pigs and some poultry, but quickly learned I really knew nothing of this kind of commercial poultry work.

Betty showed me how to shuffle my feet as I walked amongst hundreds of tiny chicks, day olds onwards. To have trodden on any would have meant big trouble. She showed me the art of bathing birds in preparation for showing up and down the country at venues such as ‘Olympia’ in London but most of all she became my friend.

She introduced me to Mrs Hardisty the lady she and Mary were billeted with. That kindly lady quickly invited me to her home at lunch times with ‘her girls’ and she warmed up my food in her oven. Betty had told her I ate sandwiches in the boiler room on my own. The rest of the men were local and went home and I lived a bus ride away. From then on I took hot pot etc for lunch.

Betty used to call me ‘the proper farmer’ this didn't go down well with the other males one of whom was classed as 'foreman' and a nasty piece of work. Forever spying on us and tale bearing. He didn't like me at all. Fortunately my friend overheard him plotting with one of the lads to bring about my downfall. This involved one of the two cows they kept, unknown to me at that time, a vicious kicker, so being warned by Betty I just waited to see what game they were about to play.

'Shrew' our name for the foreman appeared with a bandaged hand so was unable to milk - so he said - and asked if someone else could, it would have to be me. There weren't any machines then for the job and as the males took up position in the shippom doorway, grinning at each other and making sarcastic remarks about me. I asked for a bucket and some fodder to keep the cow occupied whilst I milked.

Thanks to Betty's warning I shoved the animal close to the stall and produced a cow tie and tied her back legs together, this stopped any kicking, being pushed against the stall by standing tight against her she was unable to get any impetus to kick me as I put the rope on. I only related this tale to illustrate how kind and caring a person Betty was and not only to me.

One of the lads was a heavy smoker and Betty was worried about this, also she knew he hadn't any will power to cut down so she used her concern and persuaded him to hand his cigarettes over to her and she rationed them to him each day and it worked.

When the Women's Land Army disbanded Betty returned to Liverpool and an office job. We began to communicate by post, the phone was a luxury in those days, not one that we could afford. We only had two meetings after that. The first to my wedding accompanied by Mary in 1952 and then a few months later when she visited Poulton-le-Fylde (a sort of sentimental journey) and then came to see us for a meal, following which I took her to the station for her return journey home. That was the last time we met.

Despite not seeing each other again we enjoyed a great and long lasting valued friendship, sharing all the happenings of our family lives from our youth to our old age. Ive lost my friend but I cant be robbed of my memories.

So here it was validation of all my feelings about Mumma. Kind, thoughtful and caring it told of her essence, the making of her, her core.

I must admit I shed a few tears because the tale regaled to me was so lovely and comforting. I knew that the woman I called Mumma was no longer 'here' but her actions and nature remained.

It has taken me sometime to decide what to do with Peggys Letter. Peggy thought I wanted to write a book about Mumma, I think that this maybe a little more than I am capable of so this post will have to do. For now!!

Love joy and laughter

Careyannie

A Friendship that was Made to Last

2010-01-06T10:39:00.000-08:00

Mumma was a lovely lady no doubt about that. I knew it and you would have too had you met her. All the way through my life I heard the name Peggy. Mamma's friend from way back before she was married.

Letters would arrive at the salient times of year. Birthdays, anniversary's, Christmas and a few in between. Peggy gradually became known to me as I grew up and could understand. This friendship was very important to each party. It was a time when people didn't have telephones and writing letters was the only means of communication. Yes that long ago.

Mumma would say 'Theres a letter from Peggy on the fireplace' An open invitation to read her private message from her very own friend. The letters were full of the day to day things of life. Nothing scandalous or frivolous just two friends swapping their worlds which were very different.

Peggy lived on a poultry farm in Lancashire. A farmers wife with all the early mornings and hard work that life thrust upon her. Mumma was a 'house wife' when every mother was one and their lives and story's intertwined over 60 years.

In all those years they never met face to face again. Talked on the telephone but never met. So why am I telling you this you ask yourself. Well I think that Peggy and Mumma where pioneers of a sort. Before the Internet and the extensive use of telecommunication systems they were chatting and in their own way blogging but via the now lesser used pen and paper.

So nothing new there. Ah but to me it was a marvel, a revelation, that a friendship made could be a friendship that lasted. A thing of beauty, self perpetuating, spontaneous and glorious.

So I had always known the name but not the person or how and when they had formed their friendship. I had a vague knowledge of this but needed to find out more. I wrote to Peggy. A longish letter explaining who I was and a description of my life, my children's picture and a request,if she wanted to, for the knowledge that she and only she could tell me.

My letter was sent and her reply eagerly awaited. I didn't have to wait that long, the day after I sent it a reply arrived. The letter bore the well loved and easily recognised script of neat and concise writing. I was excited and sat down in a comfy chair with a mug of hot sweet tea.

Inside the envelope a card and a short note. I was a little disappointed. I read the note to find out that Peggy had just celebrated her 80th Birthday and she was in the middle of writing thank you letters. Would I be patient with her she asked of course I said to myself.

So I was patient and waited and now so must you!!

Love joy and laughter

Careyannie