Tag Archives: behaviour

International Women’s Day

Morning!

Happy International Women’s Day, today is dedicated to women and just how bloody amazing we are!

I’m surrounded by strong women in my family and friends. Some are stay at home mums, company execs, some consistently blow me away with their natural talent and flair in floristry, baking and cake decorating, medicine and nutrition, fitness and well being……not to mention my friends in the armed forces. They all deserve the utmost of respect and beneath what they do for a living, all of these women are the most amazing friends and mentors a girl could ask for. They all love to have lazy days in their pjays, dress up in their heels, read, shop, work out, act daft with their kids and unite in their mutual love of wine consumption. Since moving back to the city and facing the challenges that 2014 brought, I’ve never felt more grateful for having them in my life.

Women Rock

We women are just awesome. Life’s multi-taskers! I regularly manage to bath my kids while simultaneously having a pee, restocking the toilet roll, cleaning the dried toothpaste off the sink and soaking up the tidal wave of bathwater with the bath mat! Are you nodding? You do it too right?

On the world stage there has been much talk of pay equality, the press went wild at the Oscars where Patricia Arquette made a resounding speech, supported by cheering and whooping from fellow A-listers Meryl Streep and Jennifer Lopez. There are varying reports on what percentage women are paid less than men, and it varies by industry too. Whatever the percentage, anything less for the doing the same job as a man, is just plain wrong. I live in hope that the more publicity and high profile backing this issue gets, the more likely a positive outcome will be…..and soon. I’m not going to go on a feminist rant (that’s a blog post in itself) but I will be writing a post about how mothers are treated differently in the world of work. Watch this space.

So back to us amazing women……I want to highlight a trend on Twitter #womencrushwednesday and encourage more women to support each other by posting a pic or brief description of a woman you admire and tagging it #wcw. It started out as just a daft celebrity thing, but hey, why not spread the love and bring it to the masses!

Women, keep doing what you’re doing because you rock!

I would like to dedicate today’s blog to Judith Arnett and Rebecca Gould, in loving memory

GG

X

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Woman Vs Machine

Okay deep breath……My name is GG and I am scared of heavy machinery, in particular JCB’s and wrecking balls. (Not an euphemism) I can’t even go to Alton Towers without getting a bit jittery driving past the humongous JCB plant en route. You’d think I’d be more frightened of rollercoasters?!

I’m going to treat today’s blog as a sort of scaredy cats anonymous session and get it all off my chest while the nightmare I had last night is still annoyingly fresh in my mind.

I wondered into a dream where I was happily playing with my kids and nieces and nephew in some left-over builders sand, you know the type just left on the road side when someone has had a drive block paved? Anyway, we were knee-deep in builders sand when my youngest niece shouts ‘Look a BIG DIGGER’ at this point they all run off and start climbing all over the big bright yellow machine and I immediately start backing away shouting at them all to get down. Now conveniently at this point one of the kids remind me that the other adults are at a party so if I want them to get down I’d have to go and get them. Nice subconscious….nice!

La Princesse (Credit)

La Princesse (Credit)

I’m a bit hazy about the next bit but sure enough I end up sweating profusely while climbing up the impossibly big JCB (more like the assault course from The Krypton Factor) as my eldest daughter begins to pull levers to move the gigantic claw, laughing maniacally (I wonder if Stephen King might be interested in a synopsis?) . I’m wildly chucking kids down to the ground as the claw swings frighteningly close to my head (I’m getting a bit shaky reliving this) and shouting like a docker at my daughter to get ‘the hell’ down when she leans on the control panel and the claw doubles back to wrap closely around me, pinning me into the machine. This is where I really start panicking, trying to control my breathing because the thought of being trapped in a giant piece of machinery and unable to move, is to me, terrifying.

La Princesse (Credit)

La Princesse (Credit)

I woke up at this point yanking the bed covers away and taking in huge gulping breaths. It’s the type of scenario only a nightmare can manifest and luckily for me I have a mum voice that strikes the fear of God into my kids, so the likely hood of this actually happening is slim to none. I’m also scared of spiders and unfortunately they don’t give a rats ass about me shouting at them in my scary voice. It appears that shouting ‘Don’t you disobey me’ at them is pointless and they crawl lazily into the corner of the room when they feel like. Only my Vogue back catalogue can deal with such insubordination. Eat high fashion suckers.

This irrational fear may well have sprung from my old home town of Liverpool hosting Capital of Culture a couple of years ago. The city was visited by a gigantic robotic spider (see photo…… it had to be yellow didn’t it?) La Princesse was lowered sneakily in the night into position on an old tower block and proceeded to spend a couple of days wandering around the city streets terrifying the masses. It was actually pretty awesome at the time but spiders and JCB’s……oh my!

Wonder what damage a rolled up magazine would do to a rogue JCB?

I’m not hopeful.

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Terrible Twos..Threes…Fours..

Earlier this week my youngest daughter celebrated her second birthday at a fancy dress party with her sister and some friends at the camp soft play area. One of the main topics of conversation (along with potty training, fussy eaters and reluctance to eat anything that’s not coated in chocolate) was the impending ‘Terrible Twos’. I told my friends that I wasn’t expecting to see so much of a change in my daughter as she is mainly well-behaved and pleasant (you can see where this is going already can’t you?) and as I had already endured this phase with my eldest daughter, I was prepared for an easy ride.

Butter Wouldn't Melt

You Smell The Flower Mummy

Since Monday my daughter has been in the naughty corner a total of 5 times, that’s an average of once a day for each time she has thrown a strop, a crayon or her juice cup across the room. (You may remember she has a flair for throwing after the pig incident) Suddenly she is incredibly possessive of her things and will shout her little lungs out if I dare to interfere. I took her to coffee morning yesterday so she could play with the other little ones (while I ate two..that’s two pieces of cheesecake!) Once she’d wrapped her little mitts around the handles of the baby pram there was no going back, if another child even looked at the pram she raised her voice so show it was her toy and she was not sharing! However just seconds later she was sat on the floor sharing pots and pans and playing at the kitchen nicely. I think my toddler has prematurely turned into a teenager! Talk about mood swings!

I’ve started reading up on the current techniques for dealing with such behaviour. Super Nanny suggests I continue with the naughty corner and that consistency is the key. Bounty suggests I give my toddler a choice so that she has a feeling of control ‘Would you like to play with the pram or come and play with the kitchen’ and Baby Centre says we should hug it out! Hmmmm got to say I agree with Super Nanny and will continue to enforce time out for unacceptable behaviour……I’m also block booking hair-dressing appointments as I’m going grey at an alarming rate!

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R.P.P (Rocket Propelled Pig)

I slept in my daughters bunk beds last night because I couldn’t be bothered to move the humongous pile of laundry covering my unmade bed…..it’s official, I am super lazy. To balance out this house-wife misdemeanour I’ve been out for a power walk this morning with toddler and dog, done all the dishes, two loads of washing (yes more) and I’m now writing a blog post. Unfortunately the laundry pile hasn’t magically ironed itself and is still there on my bed. My efforts this morning have basically made the pile bigger, not the greatest start to the day but following on from yesterday’s happy-a-thon I am going to rectify the situation and tackle it head on….after I’ve written this post and made a coffee.

Today I am going to write about the pensioner assault incident that I alluded to in yesterday’s post (which you can read here if you missed it) I’d like to start by saying that acts of violence against anyone should not be tolerated and even though my toddler is just 20 months old and what happened was really an accident, I still put her in the naughty corner to teach her a lesson. I was also desperately trying to not laugh probably giving myself a hernia in the process. The story goes a little something like this…

Rocket Propelled Pig

Rocket Propelled Pig

Toddler and I were in the waiting room at the train station last week, obviously waiting for our train! Toddler had been given a little Peppa Pig figurine from a friend and had spent the entire morning chewing it, chucking it about and generally having fun. I allowed her to take it on the journey with us as it was doing a sterling job of keeping her occupied while I tried to catch up on some reading while carefully keeping an eye on  her antics. The waiting room at the station is quite small, just three metal wire benches fill the space, so it’s not an ideal space for a game of throw the pig. We were soon joined by an elderly couple who sat at the far (5 feet away) end of the room and after the usual ‘Good Mornings’ ‘Nice weather’ pleasantries they sat down with an audible ‘oooff’ and smiled politely as toddler larked about blowing raspberries on the window. It was at this exact moment that toddler decided to play catch with the elderly woman, without actually telling her and with an effort Jessica Ennis would be proud of, she launched Peppa Pig at the woman, laughing hysterically as it ricocheted off her leg and landed under the bench.  I was horrified and yet quite impressed with her throwing arm! I apologised to the woman who didn’t even flinch (thank God) and as I turned to admonish toddler, trying to stop her from clapping excitedly and demanding another shot, she shouted ‘CATCH’ at the top of her voice. It took all I had not to laugh and firmly put her in the corner to think about her actions (consider her next victim more like).

My brother called me as this drama was unfolding and asked ‘Why is she doing that evil laugh again?’…….. Says it all really.

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The Small Hands of Destruction

I have lost my temper more times than I care to remember this weekend and it’s all thanks to the little people in my life.

When my eldest was born I fully accepted the fact that it would be totally impractical to have nice-things in our home as at some stage of her development the nice-things would be ruined, broken or at the very least snotted on. For seven and a half years I have gone without designer cushions on my DFS easily cleaned sofa, I’ve longed for a rug that doesn’t have a jigsaw of stains all over it and sometimes I can’t contain my bitter disappointment at losing my favourite floor standing lamp thanks to an over excited game of pull the dog by his tail. I know, I had a favourite floor lamp…..maybe I need help?

drawing-on-walls

This weekend my youngest monster, who has now firmly taken over the reins as master of destruction, has poured beakers of juice on the sofa, mashed her lunch into the dining table, pee’d on my duvet and laughed hysterically as she drew a multitude of murals on the walls around our home. She watched me wash the sofa cushions after the last soaking episode, I scrubbed the hall walls clean of pencil marks just last week and I’ve given up on the dining table!  Don’t get me wrong, I know most families go through this stage and it’s not like I didn’t expect it, I’m just growing weary of child-friendly furnishings and spending my mornings ensuring all the crayons are safely locked away.

design heaven

My dream house would be predominantly white, purely because I can’t have anything white for at least another 5 years. We’ve not had a coffee table since 2006 after eldest daughter decided to head-butt the corner of our solid oak rectangular table resulting in a small but lasting scar on her forehead. Whenever I see a coffee table I’d like to purchase I look at her Harry Potter style scar and put my Visa card back into my purse. Maybe I could buy a round coffee table?

It’s not like I’m counting down the days (1826) until my kids are responsible enough to not jump from one sofa to the other or use the curtain tie-backs as snakes/pony reins/skipping ropes but I am really looking forward to decorating just one room for me. I’d love to line an entire wall with bookcases, buy fragile decorative items and fill the room with rectangular tables, white cushions and diamond chandelier floor lamps….. maybe one day.

 

 

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