Pink Cupcakes

Skipping Rocks

Yesterday I was happily skipping rocks in the warm sunshine.

After waking to the sound of "mummy you've got to open your presents now," at 6.15am, I couldn't resist the squidgy face of Little Fella smiling happily at me, "it's mummy's day!"

Indeed.

And this is the reason Little Fella was so excited.  His customised seedling pot.  I have strict instructions to water it and make sure it's in the sunshine "so it can grow". OK, he can't remember what the seed is, but small matters like that are of no significance to him, it's the fact it will grow, and so, it is now my priority to allow it to grow and I will not let him down.

My pink feathery pot was not a surprise. See, despite carefully removing the pink tissue wrapped gift from his nursery bag on Friday, and his dad telling him to keep it a secret, he just can't help himself bless, so there we are at bedtime on Friday and he says, "mummy, I can tell you about the Playdoh present, but I can't tell you about the plant." I stifle a laugh and pretend I didn't hear the latter comment - despite him repeating it.  Anyway, along with some well chosen underwear (I tell you, Kids these days are bloody brilliant), a cute flowey cup, a cuddly "best mummy" teddy and an invalulable lie in, I was stoked to be a mum.

I got to have tea and cake at my favourite cafe, regardless of Big Fella finding every minute painful as JB knocked over a cup of apple juice and Little Fella decided to go walk about on the sun terrace, but as long as I was having a lovely time, everyone was happy (ish).

We took a stroll and stopped off for coffee. JB fell asleep and we went for a drive in the Country. When we arrived home Big Fella took charge of the boys so I could "pamper" myself as we had a table booked for 6 in town, and boy did I take my time, ignoring all the shouting and crying from fights and tantrums upstairs and Big Fella's voice gradually rising, and even when the threats began I continued to happily paint my nails and straighten my hair - after all, it was Mother's Day, and I had so far managed the day without shouting at anyone.

Food was lovely - and so was the drink.

Big Fella and I shared a bottle of Prosecco, and the boys apple juice. JB threw his pizza everywhere, and Little Fella attempted on several occasions to drink the wine from a straw from the bottle whilst we weren't looking.  My pasta was stunning, I do love artichokes, tomatoes and olives, and Big Fella's seafood pizza went down a treat.  We considered dessert, but we were pushing 7pm and our luck as JB should have been in bed half an hour ago, and Little Fella had developed the "sillies" - a sure sign he was tired.

I tidied up the mess as best as I could and we tipped generously for the trouble.

We got a cab back and Big Fella said he'd put both the boys to bed instead of our usual sharing. I was not going to turn that offer down.

 

So, I slipped into my comfy's and curled up on the sofa and thought about the lovely day I'd had, and how lucky I am to have the family I do despite how I may grumble about them sometimes, so when I say I was skipping rocks, that's excatly how my day felt.

Karen X

Bolly & Olives

It's been a busy week in the Roderick house. 

Half term my sister, our friend and her little boy joined my crew for a few days of sugar rushes, tantrums and too many glasses of white wine and as we wave them goodbye my folks pull into the drive and we start all over again.

Good times.

Actually, it was good times.  Having the grandparents stay meant Big Fella and me had a little time on our own.  We headed straight to our local.  I love this place because 1. it has the most amazing views 2. it sells Champagne by the glass.  Now, what I didn't expect was Big Fella to return with a glass of Bollinger.  House Champagne yes, but Bolly?

Anyway, delighted with his initiative we sat outside wrapped up to combat the icy chill and tucked into toasted foccia, hummus and olives, ignoring the temperatures as we chatted merrily and I briefly forgot I even had kids - we opted for a second round. Lethal.

I ended up indulging in a little retail therapy and bought Little Fella and JB clothes they didn't even need (from Joules of all places) and worse still the bubbles had seriously corroded my brain and I bought a dress and t-shirt for myself from an uber cute and cool independent boutique in my town - all wonderful of course until the euphoria of my weekend spending evaporates with Monday morning and I think oh dear.

 
 

So now it's back to Monday and back to finishing my second novel "Hope & Jump" (see details on the left hand icon) and since it's been over a week since I've sat properly at my pc I can't even remember what I was supposed to be writing about, I don't think it's just because of my weekend extravagances but more to do with being so damned tired.  I cannot describe to you the pain I feel at being sleep deprived thanks to a squidgy 2 year old in the next room and the frustrating thing is it's rapidly becoming the norm in our house. 

I used to think JB woke through the night when he was ill, but now he does it every night to "assert" himself (apparently) and so my Saturday afternoon of Bolly and Olives seems a long time ago as I write these words and know I need a gallon of coffee to get me to 2pm, but hey, at least I have a dented bank account to remind me of the good times.

Right, coffee it is and Page 177

K x

Happy Birthday J

 

Remember this handsome fella?

 

Well here he is a year later.  Yes, "Baby J" hits the big 1!

So, I'm thinking to myself as I decorate the house the night before, is it really a year ago since I was carrying a huge bump at the front, alcohol free for almost 9 months, pining to be glamourous and already planning for the new life ahead of us?

 

JB turning 1 is indeed a mile stone, not just for him bless, but for us as a family.  Little Fella now has a fully fledged playmate (hum, kind of, the rolling over his head thing is still unsettling), and Big Fella and I now have 2 bone fida boys (I always thought I'd have girls, and before you ask, no, there will be no more...I'm very happy with my lot thank you).

 

Anyway, up early (nothing new there then) and it's present time.  Big Fella (and big bro) is also having a happy birthday "helping" his little brother open the presents...it's total carnage!

 

I take a deep breath and TRY not to worry about the mess, but who am I kidding, it's driving me insane, and there's a party to prepare for.

 

Little Fella has reached his excitement threshold and is going into meltdown, so we quickly get the bubble machine out in the garden, and I don't know who's producing more bubbles, the machine, or Little Fella now the bottle top's come off!

 

Thank goodness for that damned bubble machine and it's batteries (!)

You know, I love parties, kids parties and I love going to other people's parties, but I am totally rubbish at doing a dinner party.  But a kids party, well, I think I'm just about on top of it.  It means I can indulge in all the things I'd wished for as a kid... 

 

...it looks like daddy does too.

Anyway, JB is having a ball and so is Little Fella (I think I'm gonna have to change his name, he's not so "little" anymore), and now nanny and grandad, mamo and aunty T have arrived, I open a bottle of wine hooray! My reward for looking and feeling knackered after a year of looking after 2 boys!  Big Fella joins me, and we know it's all worth it.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY J! XXXX

Big Boy's Birthday

  I absolutely love birthdays.

Be it my own, Big Fellas or the kids; I love them.

I have to be honest, I do probably go a little over the top, but hey, if you can't do it for your children, who can you do it for.  Big Fella mocks me, he says most of it is for my benefit, and he's probably right.

Anyway, the evening before Little Fellas 3rd Birthday - whoa, his 3rd birthday (I still can't believe how fast the time has gone, though my body does) and I'm dead excited. Little Fella's crashed out after giving me the day from hell, reducing me to a glass of wine and James Morrison at 4 in the afternoon, but there we go.

  Right, so JB, bless, is also snugged up and it's a race against time before Silent Witness starts at 9.   Big Fella pours us a glass of wine and we indulge in a tub of Twiglets.  Big Fella is "slightly" annoyed cus there's nothing for tea.  He wonders why I've spent £100 and the cupboards are bare, "for the party of course", I frown and he shrugs and carries on tucking in to raw Marmite sticks and tops up his glass instead, I am a woman on a mission and he knows better than to stand in the way.

We blow up tons of balloons cus we know Little Fella will enjoy these more than the heap of presents he has waiting for him in the playroom.  We've been warming him up that it's his birthday, and he keeps telling everyone and yet when we hear the dulcet tones of "me needs a wee wee", at 7 the following morning, we think he's forgotten, so we grab JB and we head to the "birthday room"

  The funny thing is, me and Big Fella are more excited than our son, well, until he reaches the bottom of the stairs to find BALLOONS!!! everywhere, and bless, he doesn't know what to say, and me and his dad savour this cus silence in our house this is a rare thing.

Well, like I said, a rare moment, and it really was a moment, cus suddenly he's ripping into everything, wanting to open everything and it absolutely has to be NOW!  A calm suggestion that we open the presents first then have a look at what he's got go down as predicted, and he's up and trashing everything, running in the paper, opening boxes, tipping things out and leaving them in favour of Diego, then Peppa, not to mention the Black and Decker workbench we stupidly bought him cus I'm the one who's on hands and knees searching for plastic screws.

 Right, so presents are open, cards are up and it's time to get ready for nursery, he's on a half day today cus nanny and grandad and aunty Tracey are coming for a tea party in the afternoon. He proudly shows off his "birthday boy" badge and his cupcakes and gingerbread Halloween biscuits are ready to take to share with his friends.

Once he's gone, it's a rush to get the tea party stuff sorted.and before I know it, it's midday and I'm wondering if it's too early to have a drink, gosh, I'm getting terrible, and since I spied a bottle of sherry, yes, that's sherry in the supermarket earlier, reminding me of last Christmas whilst pregnant with JB and craving sherry (don't ask) I think I should indulge, but just a little one, cus the day is young.

Right, I'm dressed and ready and Little Fella is back. He's keen to play, and tries to entice little JB in to help build, showing his brother he's a real builder and he's got the bum to prove it.

The folks and my big sis arrive and we crack open a bottle of wine, amongst other things.  Little Fellas in his oils and it's flowing nicely.  There's a few rogue screws and a hammer being thrown around, but hey, it's his birthday right. However, knocking over the Black and Decker was not a good idea, and he says Happy Birthday to the naughty step.

JB's in the middle of it all, wondering if he can make as much damage come April, my nerves are hoping not.

Grub is ready, and we're all dead hungry after consuming a fair bit of booze (but not too much of course), except the birthday boy who has already munched his way through 2 chocolate swiss rolls and 2 cupcakes not to mention all the crisps and Fruit Shoots.  I'm very glad he's staying up later tonight otherwise we could have a serious case of bad stuff overdose = no sleep.

The birthday cake makes it's entrance (no nuts Little Fella reminds me) and instantly the candles are blown out.

There's alot of chocolate flying about and I'm trying REALLY hard not to get stressed about it.  Then it's play time again, a a bit of dancing, a bit of Thomas the Tank Aqua draw and a late story from a strange woman in a red hat claiming to be aunty Tracey.

The evening is coming steadily to an end, and I have to be honest, I'm totally knackered.  We're all flagging, including the boy himself, and JB departed to bed an hour earlier.  The house is a total tip, but I'll worry about that later.

Nanny, grandad and aunty Tracey say goodbye and we have a little tantrum before bedtime, but after "Roary at the seaside" Little Fella's snugged up without a peep.  Big Fella and I last until 10.30 before plodding upstairs to Bedforshire.  But it's been the best day, and I know our Little Fella's had the birthday of his dreams, so that's enough for us, reminding me again, why I absolutely love birthdays.

Glad it's only once a year though...

XX

 

He's a real Sweet Potato

Can you believe it, it's that time again, the nightmare that is weaning.

Now, a couple of weeks ago, the physiotherapist came to see JB and when she saw him, she smiled and said, "Is he on solids yet?", he wasn't. "Oh, he looks like a baby who is."

See, bless the lovely softie JB, he is, well, a bruiser.

I seem to have this knack of producing big babies, which is weird, cus I'm actually not that big myself, and neither is Big Fella.  I carried very low, yes, but wasn't really that big even at full term, but, within weeks of being born, both our boys have, well, ballooned.

Now, don't get me wrong, they're not overweight, they're just big in a cutie baby way, but also above average height for their age.  I remember the health visitor telling me with Little Fella I should get used to the idea he was going to be tall.  She said expect 6ft plus, get used to being overshadowed, and JB, was born even longer.

Anyway, JB is 5 months old today, and ready to progress to that next stage.  I didn't worry about weaning with Little Fella, he was kinda like the model baby.  He was sleeping through at 11 weeks, solids at 16 weeks, lumps, not a problem, but I have learnt that what happens when they're babies, is not necessarily a reflection of how they will be as toddlers!!! I will NOT be lured into a false sense of security again, more so over the past 5 months, because believe it, no 2 babies are ever the same.

Saying that, I love the fact our boys are different, how exciting to watch them grow, their little personalities coming through by the day, from a gushy point of view, it's fascinating.

Anyway, back to weaning.  I feel like I'm cheating JB a little because I am kinda relying on jars of Hipp Organic and sachets of Ella's Kitchen.  With Little Fella, I spent hours preparing purees of every kind of fruit and veg in cute ice cube trays, lovingly acting like a domestic goddess (which I am NOT), but with an almost 3 year old busy toddler demanding we wrestle and build cars, boats and towers out of mega blocks, it just ain't gonna happen - so I thought.

Then came the good ole sweet potato. So, using my bible ('Baby and Child's Vegetarian Recipes' by Carol Timberly), I scrubbed it, baked it (45 mins), split it open, scooped out the middle and mixed with a bit of formula and there we had it, a creamy looking sweet potato mixture fit for a JB.

OK, so, it looks great, tastes, well, OK, to my spoilt pallet, but what would the man in question make of it.

So, there he was, king of the castle in his high chair, a brand new bib for the occasion, gazing at me with wonder, why on earth is mummy flapping around the kitchen with stupid strawberry shaped ice cube tray.

OK, my hands are shaking, because I really am expecting the worse and...

I am pleasantly surprised.

He loves it, even opens his mouth in anticipation. It takes a while, but who cares, he's eating it, and kinda looks like he's enjoying it too.

Right, so with that first step out of the way, I really am hoping for big things, namely, dropping that damned night feed that is haunting me and Big Fella, but who knows....

Anyway, we're on day 3 today, third helping of sweet potato, then tomorrow, lucky JB gets to sample pureed apple, maybe Thursday, a pureed banana.

So, we've done it, the first big step to being a big boy ("big strong boy" as Little Fella corrected me at the weekend), an indication that they don't stay babies very long, and we're off to the health visitor today, for a big weigh in, just hope he doesn't go off the scales.

Have a good one

K xx

A Spaceman Has Landed!

Right, so meet the reason this blog has lay redundant for almost 3 weeks - lovely JB.

Yes folks, finally it's over.  JB arrived on the 2nd April 2008 at 12.23pm, weighing in at an amazing 8lb 4.5oz!  He has a mass of hair (just like little fella did - and still has!), and is an absolute beaut!

So after the euphoria of producing such a gorgeous healthy babe, opening all our lovely cards and people's generous gifts, we arrived home to absolute and utter carnage!  Yes, a spaceman had landed, except the first one wasn't quite ready for promotion.

So this is where reality bites.  All those daydreams of playrooms and surfie/indie clothes; all those thoughts of little fella having a companion as ma and pa get old, evaporated the moment we stepped through the door.

See, JB and little fella have got this conspiracy going on, when one goes down, the other gets up, and if we're really unlucky, they do it together. 

I'm knackered. Totally and utterly exhausted - already!  It's true to say, the transition from 1 to 2 kids is a shock.  I'm currently splitting my time between a million things, the one consolation being I can indulge in a little alcohol if I so wish, only problem with this is, it's tires me out even more.

Little fella is like a madman, desperate to find his new place in the family, me and big fella are at each others throats, and JB, bless, slowed down on his appetite a couple of days after being home, but has now re-found it, and consuming milk like a crazy man!  God bless my mum, otherwise I'd be in a straight jacket by now, and it's only been 2 weeks! Help!!!!

Anyway, chaos aside, which actually isn't uncommon in the Roderick household, when I do get a spare millisecond (usually whilst making up bottles), I'm indulging in the Kooks new album, Konk, and discovered something a little more mellow in the form of Paolo Nutini - so life isn't too bad after all.

Also, a great big PINK CUPCAKE kiss and hug for everyone who's bought my book so far - this means so much to me.  Thank you so much for supporting me.

Hugs and plenty of milk stained over sized post pregnancy kisses,

Karen xxxx

Halloween's Come Early

This week was Little Fella's 2nd Birthday, and to celebrate, me and Big Fella arranged a small "gathering" (it actually turned into quite a large one in the end!), and since me and little fella (well, OK, me) are mad about Halloween, I thought I'd combine the two.

As you can see from the picture, my lovely assistant Millie is demonstrating how realistic the dining room looked with pumpkin head accessories and a black cat for authenticity.

Anyway, I love Halloween, and last year I went a little mad on accessories from Abraxas that I didn't get much use out of, so this year, Little man's party was the ideal opportunity to show off my newly acquired obessession, and since Marks and Spencer have been clever enough to introduce a Nut Free chocolate range (includes easter eggs, Halloween and Christmas), for once, Little Fella didn't miss out on the goodies.

Not that he missed out on much bless him, he had the time of his life, from the moment we brought him downstairs to see his HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner and green tractor to crashing out with a half full bottle of milk at 9pm.

But of course, there was alot of fun inbetween, translated into, alot of mess and chaos.

I even managed to make a birthday cake, not something I usually do of course, but I'm tired of trawling through various supermarkets to find a nut free cake - come on people, get a grip, splash a bit of cash and clear up your damned factories and you mind have a few more customers on your hands!

Anyway, I'm glad I did my Nigella bit because the cake actually turned out to be pretty damned lovely.  Little Fella managed a spoonful of cream, but turned his back in favour of 'Witches Claws' cheesy puffs, but I won't moan, because at least he ate something.

And OK, he's going to hate his parents later in life when this picture of him appears in the paper for his 18th Birthday, but hey son, we've all been there.

So, fun was had by all, especially the special birthday boy himself, and his mum got to exploit her obessesion in the process, and do you know what the best part is - I get to do it all again on the 31st! Yeah!

Happy Early Halloween! K x

Goodbye to a Very Good Friend

Sometimes, something or someone wanders into your life and makes it a little brighter, and a little bit more worthwhile, and this particular gentleman was one of those people.

I say "people", because Muldoon, (or Mully or The Mul as he will always affectionately be known) was the loveliest and bestest friend you could have. I swear he was almost human.

I know people think cats can't be loyal, and I've had enough in my time to know, yes, that can be the case, but Mul WAS loyal, and OK, the added bonus of a few fishy biscuits helped, but he was truely one on his own, there will never be another Mul.

I met Muldoon back in September 2000 in Brackla, Bridgend, South Wales as I was living in Cardiff.  A lady I worked with said a stray had given birth to 2 kittens under her spare bed and was anyone interested, me, being a total sucker for cats went along that weekend, and there he was, the tiny kitten with huge monster paws, and my life was never the same.

We'd been through alot together me and Mul. He'd been with me for 7 years, and in that time, we'd had 3 houses in Cardiff, one in Cheshire and another in Warwickshire, his last home, a happy home.  He didn't venture far, although he had a reputation as a bruiser (we didn't call him Brutus for nothing!), but he always came home to his Momma (me), and for that, I am glad, otherwise I would never have known how poorly he was.

Anyway, it's fair to say, he was one hell of a boy.  The size of a small dog, and the tolerance of my hungry husband, Mul took no **** from anyone, with the exception of me, because I was his mum.  The lovely thing about Muldoon was despite his size (he was massive - honest), his sometimes grumpy temperament, he'd do anything for a big dose of fuss and to beable to sit close to me, even on the floor by my feet!  He was a gentle giant, who even at the end, was happy for his Mum to give his a big stroke and tell him how handsome he was.

  Everyone who came into contact with The Mul never forgot him, and not just because they always received a customary Muldoon bite on the arm, but because he had a hell of alot of presence, and now that he's no longer walking this earth, he's left a gap so huge it's proving very difficult to fill, after all, this is the cat that launched two coffee shops and a thousand made up songs, you don't get over that in a hurry, and neither do I want to, because he has left me, and anyone who knew him with brilliant and happy memories.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing, there's been near fatal car accidents, going AWOL, food intolerance's and endless territorial fights, so I guess he'd finally used all his 9 lives, which is a bit sad really since he was still only young, but there we go, we don't usually get to choose when our ticket's up.

Anyway, he's back with us, forever in our garden, where I can watch over him, and he watches over us (and keeps Millie is ship-shape), so I'd like to say thank you to Muldoon for many happy and sometimes stressful years, and that it was truly a privilege to have met and known you.  I do hope you're happy now, and enjoying real fish, and not that crap I've been serving you the past 7 years.

Well, fella, time to say goodbye, and to let you know you've already left your legacy and I hope you don't go biting all those other cats in cat heaven, because I'm not there to bail you out anymore.  See you sometime, miss you deeply, my good friend. Love Momma. xxxxxxx

MULDOON RODERICK  Sept 2000 - October 2007.

Style tips from one cool little boy

When I found out I was expecting a boy, I have to be honest, I was surprised. See, I was carrying very low (girl myth number 1), and I'd had the most hideous all day everyday nausea and sickness for weeks( girl myth no. 2), but also, girls run heavily in my family, so when little fella announced himself I went into a bit of a panic.

See, call me weird or what, but I didn't want him to wear football shirts (no offence intended as little fella actually owns 2 retro Welsh Rugby jerseys), I wanted him to be dead dead cool, because I knew back then he was going to be the coolest dude on the planet (yes, even above Liam Gallagher I'm afraid) - and looking back, he most definitely is.

Now, I'm sure I'm not the only mum about who struggles to find any individual and cool clothes for boys. OK, so I dip in and out of mainstream kids clothes shops, but I still get frustrated at the lack of imagination compared to the millions of beautiful clothes for girls.  Even Baby Gap, who I thought would be a sure bet, didn't deliver the goods.  Anyway, after reading Jools Oliver's Minus nine to one (guilty pleasure honest) just before little fella was born, she introduced me to a brilliant place called Their nibs and now I'm hooked. 

OK, it is a little on the costly side, so I tend to use them for real special pieces like this recently purchased pirate raincoat, and he also has a great pair of cowboy PJ's. 

Monsoon for kids is also a little gem, especially around sale time, and I've already managed to pick up some good stuff - again, girls seem to be the priority here, but hey, I'm not grumbling. Then there's the amazing Pink Milk where we can all worship Charlie and Lola- their long sleeved t-shirts are brilliant for boys and girls, along with bags and other cool stuff like height charts and party bits. 

OK, so I have no idea when the backlash will begin, and little fella demands to become a chav, but until that time, he will be the cool indie surf kid that turns everyones head because he's so damned gorgeous!