Tales of the unexpected with The Boy, my pride and joy.
I know that Silent Sunday is supposed to be 'silent' but I'm taking the advantage here to highlight the fact that Pampers have joined with Unicef and are donating a vaccine for maternal and newborn tetanus for every pack sold. You can help without buying Pampers by popping over to their FB page and 'liking' them, which will result in them donating the cost of a vaccine to Unicef. It's just two clicks away!
I have been tagged by both the marvellous MummyMummyMum and the wonderful Would Like To Be a Yummy Mummy in a little meme which asks us to reveal our blogging haven; where we sit and converse with the world through our 14inch screens.
It's not saintly at all, it's a complete and utter comfort zone of blogging ease. This is my seat in the living room, woe betide anyone who sits here. Several reasons that it's mine; table for my constant glass of water and access to the power-leads for the laptop and external HDD. You'll also notice the USB lead for my camera, the Ultra Flip-Cam HD on the table and the remote control. I've noticed that I need to wash the sofa covers.
So there you go, I'm a slob and will pretend to be nothing else.
And I like the colour blue!
I tag:
There's always one post that we've written that we were proud of, that we put the final punctuation mark to and thought "yep, that's a good one! They're going to love it!"
And then either no bugger read it, or, like I've had before, about 50 people read it but no-one commented!
I used to think it was the stats that counted, but it's not; it's the comments. They confirm that your writing is decent and that your readers find your ramblings enjoyable.
Hence this linky to help other ShowOff the posts that were underappreciated. This weekend, I'd like you to help those posts to hold their heads up high! Brush them off, stick my badge at the bottom of the post and show them off for everyone to see. Don't be ashamed of them, help them shout at everyone:
I SHOULD HAVE DONE BETTER!
I've added two; one was a competition post but I love the video and I wanted to share it again. Comments on it are closed so if you want to comment on the Oreo video, please can you do so below? Thanks!
My Friday Funny this week has to be heard!
When I saw that this week's Recipe Shed theme was 'vegetarian', I knew it would be rude of me not to take part. This recipe is one of our favourite meals, we don't normally have it with blue cheese but I have some in the fridge which is in danger of being more blue than cheese, so I'm bunging that in too!
Depending upon which degree of vegetarianism you subscribe to, this may need altering to suit your requirements. For example, I have a Bachelors in Vegetarianism: I don't eat meat or fish, but don't sift through the cheeses to find rennet-free types in the supermarket. Life's too short to stuff a mushroom, ya'know. If you have a Masters in Vegetarianism, then you may want to substitute the single cream for something like Alpro Soya, likewise the cheese. If you have an HND in being a Veggie, then you need to realise that eating fish makes the rest of us have to say "no, I don't eat fish because I'm a vegetarian!" so thanks for that!
Ingredients
1. Cut the butternut squash up into small chunks and cook for ten minutes in 2 pints of hot water and a stock cube.
2. While that's bubbling away, thinly slice the mushrooms and leeks. As The Boy is sharing this with us, I cut the leeks up very small. As neither of us like the texture of mushrooms then these also go very small. Sweat them down in a generous knob of butter.
3. After five minutes, add the rice to the pan of butter, mushrooms and leeks. I can't remember why, I think it's something to do with coating and sealing each grain of rice with the butter, but I could be making that up! Leave it for a minute or two, stirring halfway through.
4. Transfer two ladles of stock (not the butternut squash though) into the pan with the rice and stir through. This initial water will disappear quickly so give it a stir and add some more.
5. This is the bit which requires constant attention and judgement. The risotto will need stirring every minute or two to stop it sticking, and the second the water has been absorbed into the rice, you need to add another ladle of stock. This is why I am typing this up on the iPod Touch while I'm busy watching the rice (in fact, I was so busy explaining then I forgot to stir and my rice stuck in one section!). This will take about twenty minutes on a low heat. You might need all the stock, you might not. Transfer the butternut squash across at the end.
6. When the risotto has plumped up and absorbed most of the liquid (apart from a small amount around the sides), taste it to check. It should have a small bite to it and not be slushy. However, chewy risotto isn't right so possibly add a bit more water and cook it for a few minutes longer.
7. Add the single cream and the cheese and stir through. Keep on the heat for a further minute to make sure the heat has melted the cheese.
8. Serve with a sprinkling of Parmesan on top.
Pop over to Reluctant Housedad's Recipe Shed to check out the other veggie delights by pressing this linky doo-dah malarky!
This morning I went out shopping with my mum and The Boy. It wasn't a massive trip anywhere special, we weren't after anything specific, and no amazing bargains were purchased (apart from the Christmas cooking book that we bought in Matalan, and the cherry liquers in Marks and Spencer).
I've come home and I'm exhausted; it's a grey, Wintery day and it's cold. The thermometer on my car dashboard said 8°C but I think that was it's goal rather than reality. The Boy is currently nestled soundly asleep in his cot upstairs, I should be taking the opportunity to have a nap, and the dishwasher is whirring away in the background.
I know you're wondering why I'm telling you all this but I've just opened my inbox and seen a post notification from someone that I genuinely consider to be a friend, were it not for technological and geographical confines. I scanned it briefly to get a gist of its contents before I've opened it in a browser to read and comment on. However, I'm in tears already. In this post, she talks about the pain of losing her mother, and that is one of my greatest fears.
Fear, or acknowledged eventual outcome?
I dread the day that my mum doesn't turn up with a loaf of bread and some milk because "I thought you might be short of them". Or phones and says "come on, let's go to Matalan." Or rings because she wanted to rant about something that my father has done (normally breathing to be honest). My mum is one of my best friends and as much as I may groan about the fact that she gave The Boy fishfingers for lunchtime instead of ham, I cannot imagine how it would feel to not have that in my life.
We're inordinately lucky that my mum looks after The Boy while I work and never once have I ever thought it to be about the money. In all honesty, if she couldn't have him then I wouldn't work. That's for various reasons of which I won't go into now, however I'm lucky that that's never been an issue. It was always assumed on everyone's part that she would look after him and she does it brilliantly.
She is the one who taught him how to do a jigsaw. She's the one who taught him how to draw a 'kiss'. I don't have a problem with any of it. And despite me inwardly groaning at the mess when I get home at 5pm and find my 66 year old mother on her knees pouring imaginary cups of tea, I also smile and don't mind because it means they've been playing all day long.
The Boy adores her. She adores him. Rightly, I adore her because she's my mum.
And I don't know where I'd be without her.
I have been tagged by The Crazy Kitchen in Ten Questions, another bleeding meme! However, as I am not one to walk away from a tossed gauntlet, here goes:
1: Describe yourself in seven words:
I am a stroppy, sensitive, tired bugger blogger.
2: What keeps you awake at night?
Not much, when I've gone, I've gone. However, floating off on that cloud can often be disturbed by husband's snoring. If he falls asleep before me then I've had it, and so has he because I elbow or belt him one to make him stop. I once held his nose for a few seconds; it worked, he didn't breathe for thirty seconds and I was worried I'd killed him.
3: If you could be anyone for a day who would you be and why?
Me, but a less tired version with an infinite amount of money. Just one day, that's all I need.
4: What are you wearing now?
Black top, underwear, vest-top and cropped trousers. My full-length ones need ironing and I can't be arsed at the moment. I'll do it before we go out to the fireworks!
5: What scares you?
Death. Or rather not being here anymore with my loved ones, and them not with me. I'm absolutely petrified of general anaesthetics because of that, to the point where I have a panic attack and cry.
6: What is the best and the worst thing about blogging?
Twitter, unsurprisingly. Other than that this morning I've been on Facebook to post a Toyologist review, Amazon to copy it across (it wasn't a good one), The Crazy Kitchen, Mummy Mishaps and Gmail. Was that interesting?
Personality: my low levels of self-esteem.
What the hell is a slanket? <goes to look it up>
Um no, I'm 34 not 84.
Helen is kind, caring, funny, down-to-Earth and a good friend. She's also a sh*t-hot cook.
Now I tag Mummy Central, MammyWoo (she won't do it though), SAHDandProud and MotherVenting (I want to see what she says about slankets).
He was sat in the middle of an adult bed holding Oliver Monkey. He looked tiny and so pale, but colour was slowly returning to his cheeks. He shouldn't have been able to come out with a funny.
The doctor came over for her discharge assessment and checked him over. The Boy looked at her and said, "Lady, I not very well!" She asked him what the matter was. He came out with the same thing that he has been saying for months (it's fake by the way), "Lady, I have got a cough. Listen… ahuh, huh!"
She laughed and told us to take him home.
—
Sticking with daddy at the dining table:
"Have you had a good day?"
"Yes daddy, I did have a sleep."
"Was it a nice sleep?"
"Yes, when I woke up, I was a little boy!"
I love my garden, it is without a shadow of a doubt one of the favourite areas in my house and I feel truly relaxed and at ease in it. When I was a child, I spent hours daily in my garden, it was my playground, my theatre, my wonderland.
I want this for The Boy.
That is why I took part in the Bosch Garden Makeover Challenge. That is why I've worked hard to make our garden a safe, educational, fun place for The Boy so that he can have somewhere to run freely, play, explore, learn.
Update: I didn't win, but thanks to everyone who voted for me. It meant a hell of a lot. I'm content in the knowledge that I have a fabulous garden anyway, which all three of us enjoy immensely.
This was the worst moment of my life, bar none.
So when I struggled to wake The Boy up from his afternoon nap today, I tried to tell myself not to panic. I failed. After a further ten minutes of failing to get him to wake up sufficiently enough to convince me that he was still just tired, I looked at my mum. She phoned the doctor back straight away and demanded that we saw the same doctor that we'd seen this morning.
He was lifeless; his arms hanging and me having to hold him upright. His lips were white, his skin deathly pale with huge purple shadows.
Carrying him into the surgery, the doctor was visibly surprised to see such a decline in the boisterous, polite, chatty toddler who he'd seen just six hours previously. The Boy was limp, clammy, pale, dazed with no energy. He looked over him, doing the checks (which thanks to reading various blog-posts over the past fortnight) I recognised as meningitus checks. He turned to me and said, "I'm seeing the same thing as you and I'd like you to go into the Children's Assessment Unit."
I almost crumbled to my knees there and then.
Coming back into the room two minutes later, he prepared and adminstered a shot of penicillin for The Boy and then made the phonecall warning them that we were on our way. We walked out, me carrying a floppy child and my husband rushing to get us into the car.
When we arrived at the CAU they were expecting us and assessed him quickly. The Boy had started to perk up a little, but looked so tiny sat in the middle of that adult bed clutching Oliver Monkey tightly. Big, hollow eyes with purple shadows stared at the nurse practitioner as she did the necessary checks and found he had gastritis and dehydration, hardly surprising as I'd been unable to get him to drink properly and he hadn't passed urine since 11am.
He was given some sandwiches to eat, which he wolfed down, and managed to drink 75ml of water. We were then discharged once he'd shown he could keep it down and had some colour back in his cheeks.
The Boy's sleeping in his cot now, and I have all my sense heightened to his needs. Will I sleep? Probably not. Have I cried? Slightly. The thought of my precious child limp and lifeless is too much to bear.
