Currently sitting up in bed with this little girl sleeping on me like a baby monkey, because she has a bad cold and can’t get to sleep any other way.
Anne’s experiencing her second week of school, and she has now made friends (“On the pirate ship!” Oh, if only my primary school had one of those) with twin boys who — while not in her actual class at school — happen to be in the same after-school swim class. Their mum said that they wanted her to have a sleepover at theirs.
Oh, the innocence of youth.
Also, that means today’s swimming lesson involved the three of them mucking about enough to get gently told off by the coach. This could be a long year, pool-wise.
Is it just me, or do those blackberries look a bit off?
I saw my friend Sally today. The last time we met was Chinese New Year’s Eve, when we heard about her version of doner (aka death van) kebab. It is pure coincidence that I actually made my attempt at death van kebab tonight.
It tasted like a kebab.
Anne liked it.
Eliza ate one whole slice of it.
Neil, disliker of lamb, liked it.
I’m just so surprised that we all enjoyed something that tastes like junk food.
With a few amendments: I’m out of fresh garlic, so used dried, I had to prep the lamb mince on the weekend and freeze it, so it was defrosted today and baked in an 180°C oven for 80 minutes. I also found a recipe for garlic sauce somewhere (dried garlic, mayonnaise, Greek yoghurt, dried parsley) so I could have my kebab the way I like it.
I swear, these little
fuckers shitebags people are trying to drive me insane. The only things they both like are fries / chips and chicken nuggets, everything is is literally love-hate, i.e. one loves and the other hates.
My professional life in the UK before having kids was fighting the misconceptions of what social media marketing does every day. It was like pushing shit uphill.
Since my furiously teething, clingy younger child won’t even countenance the idea of my going to the toilet without her in my arms, and summer holidays mean both offspring clamour for either constant attention or non-stop children’s television or strange toy opening videos on YouTube, getting any time to read or watch the news has been… challenging. So here is a brief digest of what I’ve been able to catch up on.
- Brexit: what the FUCK?
- Donald Trump: what the ACTUAL FUCK?!
- Rio Olympics: hooray for Joseph Schooling.
Personally, I blame Paw Patrol. Yelping for help has got me nowhere.
You know vanity sizing is out of control when Uniqlo Singapore judges you a size M or L, but Gap UK says you’re smaller than a size zero.
I am nursing Eliza back to sleep, it’s past bedtime, and Anne has come in. She had a nap in the afternoon so isn’t tired.
ANNE: Mummy, can I have one circle crispie (I had been having a snack before Eliza stirred and put a bag of crisps on the table)?
ME: (Whispering) No.
ANNE: Just one circle crispie, then I’ll say that’s enough?
ME: (Still whispering) No, it’s too late.
ANNE walks off quickly. I get ready to unlatch Eliza as I know I will soon hear—
ANNE: *crunch crunch crunch*
Parents were the invited into school today to help the kids make an ugly bug costume for an ugly bug ball tomorrow. Anne wanted to be a ladybird. Her ladybird also required a mask — a strip of paper with eye holes poked out.
So her costume is a ladybird dressed as a ninja turtle.