A Colobus Monkey

Usually when I’m feeling a bit anxious I have the spider dream.

Due to the pre-move stress I expected to be leaping across the bedroom, in the middle of the night, to escape the spiders.

This did not happen.  Not to me anyway.

The night before we moved there was a disturbance.

I woke in the night and instantly knew something wasn’t right. I stretched out to discover The Husband missing.

Suddenly the bedroom light was flicked on and there in the corner of the room was The Husband in his pants looking befuddled.

He was befuddled, and I was blind … at 3.04am.

The following morning he told me that he dreamt he was being chased round our bedroom by Colobus Monkeys.  He was very precise about the species.

Can you imagine what would happen if the Driver family’s nocturnal behaviour was synchronised … there would be the 4 year old snoring like an old man, the 6 year old screaming like she’s having her leg removed with a rusty butter knife, The Husband being chased by Colobus Monkeys and me scrabbling around on the bed shooing the 100 or so spiders away.

Picture by \\Hayley// on Flickr

Before he even walked into the bar I was in love with him.

We’d met four weeks before on the Internet.  By the time we met we knew virtually everything about each other.  He may have left out that he’ll watch absolutely every sport possible apart from synchronised swimming.  I may have omitted to tell him about my fear of housework and that occasionally I talk/sleepwalk/laugh and leap about in my sleep.

One week into our online banter he sent me a photo of himself.  Today, I can still remember opening that email and looking at him for the first time.  My legs turned to jelly and I knew instantly that he would be my husband.  Who’d have thought that a handsome man sporting an INXS t-shirt with a small child on his knee could have evoked such a reaction.

Three months after our first date we were living together.  In two weeks we’ll be celebrating four years of marriage.  Who knows, we might celebrate by finally picking up our proper wedding photos.  *COUGH*

The last ten years have been the most entertaining, stressful, joyous and personally challenging years of my life.  I can’t think of anyone I would have rather inflicted them on.

Tonight we’ll raise a glass to another ten years.

I used this picture of our wedding day because we looked so very happy, however. I am also a tad shiny.  Great Grandma Driver, approaching her mid eighties, had asked the nice man at the hotel to turn off the air conditioning during our wedding meal.  It was one of the hottest days of the year and she was a bit chilly.  This photo was taken around the moment we realised what she’d done, as everyone started to melt.

So out of chronological order I give you the night and morning following the 6 year old’s birthday party.

We left Gramps in charge on Saturday night.  He is officially THE best babysitter ever; Encouraging us to stay over and come back late morning the following day!

We went to My Sister’s housewarming.  It was a really good do.  Her new house is lovely and it already looks like they’ve lived there for years … in a good way!

I was told to bring one of our camping lamps because the light had broken in the downstairs loo.  I could only locate a wind up one, that only actually seems to work as you are winding it.  Unfortunately, after only one drink and only 15 minutes into the party, I told someone, in a new relationship, not to waste his wrist action in the downstairs toilet.  The Husband was horrified.

It was OK though, because later, when The Husband couldn’t focus he made several verbal faux pas, tried to break some fire wood for the fire bucket with some kung fu moves and then passed out on the spare bed.  Later in the night I had to stop him from wandering to the toilet naked.  He opted to wear My Sister’s faux, floor length, fur coat which was hanging on the back of the spare rooms door.  Think Cruella De Vil. When I imparted this information the following day My Sister couldn’t work out whether she was mortified or amused.

I imagine that coat will be in the dry cleaners quicker than you can say ‘All fur coat, no underpants’.

When we arrived home the following day, it sounded like the kids had thoroughly enjoyed themselves.  The 4 year old woke Gramps very early.  They went to the local nature reserve and then played in the street until we got home.

I don’t think I will ever forget arriving home to find Gramps playing tennis, in the street, with the 4 year old … his face painted, by the 6 year old.

Those of you who read My Sister’s blog will want to know if ‘Ole twinkly Eyes’ showed up.  Well he didn’t, and I was actually quite glad.  The merrier I got the more people became aware of the review I did of ‘my sister’s man friend’.  it could have been a tad embarrassing.

This is a selection of things the Driver’s are enjoying this month.  Some have been sent to us courtesy of the blog, some haven’t.

Jo Thorpe Mosaic – When I met up with the lovely Kerry in Florida she had a fabulous scrabble piece pendant.  Turns out her friend, Jo, is rather clever and makes them, amongst other fabulous things. Check out her decorative work … just beautiful.  I bought myself and my Facebook Wife one too (£8 each).  Our love of scrabble helped us through some tough times.  Jo Thorpe offers mosaic course across East London. (The pendant site is here).

Alice in Wonderland (On Blue-ray) -  This arrived whilst we were on holiday in Italy and was the perfect distraction from the holiday blues when we got back.  Completely whacky, very funny and Helena Bonham Carter is superb once again.  Definitely worth a watch, the kids certainly thought so.

Sigg Aluminium Bottles – Hardwearing, eco-friendly and great designs that go in the dishwasher.  The 4 year old launched across the room to have first dibs on the large Spongebob Square Pants bottle.  This left the 5 year old with the 2 smaller ones … and no arguments, which makes a change.  Unlike the plastic, cheaper versions we’ve had over the years, they don’t leak.

A Lightsaber – Before I left for my Seaworld trip the 4 year old told me that all he wanted me to bring back was a lightsaber.  Cue to me racing round the Florida Mall like a demented loon.  I came across a small Toys R Us, ran up to one of the staff and asked if she had a lightsaber.  She took me to them, I told her I could hug her.  After the look she gave me I then added a disclaimer of “… but I won’t”.  I was crowned mother of the year when I returned and he still sleeps with it.

Clan Covers from Twisted Twee.  Romance isn’t dead.  The Husband bought me one for Mother’s Day and I bought him one for Father’s Day.  Egyptian cotton don’t you know.  They do loads of other fab stuff too. Check out the party bunting, ’tis genius.

This weeks subject is Portraits.  For once I found it fairly easy and I went with the first thing I thought of.

I wrote this post almost a year ago, give or take a week, which encapsulated the many faces of my daughter, aged 4.  It’s only a small percentage of the faces she can pull.

It still makes me smile, like she does.

When you’ve read this get yourself back over to Tara’s and check out all the other Gallery Portrait posts.

In the main it’s not a problem … for me.  Sometimes my nightly disturbances can be disruptive for the husband especially when we move onto my sleepwalking.

My first episode of sleepwalking was when I was 15 and I woke up running down the stairs away from the MAHOOSIVE mechanical spider that was chasing me. It’s confusing to wake up in an upright position, more so to be moving at speed down stairs.

The second time was when I was 18 and I walked into my stepbrothers room in the middle of the night, naked.  He described it as being visited by the Elephant Man.

Other than that I have night terrors, usually about spiders.  I wake up scrabbling about in bed trying to get rid of the hundreds of spiders that are crawling about on our bed.

In more extreme moments I leap up convinced that I need to rid the room of the hundreds of spiders whilst shrieking about ‘the spiders, the spiders’.  I climb over the husband, elbowing him, waking him, switch on the bedroom light, blinding not only myself but him also.

Then I slowly wake up wondering why I am stood in our brightly lit room at 3am with the husband looking at me as if I am mad.

So after all the times I have woken the husband up with this particular spider/light/bed scenario did he do the following this morning.

I was brushing my teeth and I heard a kerfuffle in our bedroom. I went in for the children to tell me that there was a huge spider in the room.  This is not a problem during waking hours, I am not scared of spiders in my day to day life.

However he then said … “It was a great big ugly thing, it’s gone under the bed now.  That will have been crawling in and out of your mouth all night” followed by a Beavis & Butthead type “hehe” chuckle.

Cue wide eyed children looking from me to their father to the dark space under the bed where Mr Ugly Skinny Legs is hiding. I am aware that my subconscious has filed the thought of those big hairy legs sitting on my face for a 3am visitation.

So, this is just a warning to the husband … when I wake up EVERY NIGHT this week stood in the corner having blinded us both again at 3am screaming about the spiders, I just want you to know … YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW.

Photo courtesy of Sankax on Flickr

The facilities were some of the best we’ve encountered during our camping trips.  The shower cubicles were spacious and fairly clean, the hairdryers so powerful that I looked like I’d just stepped out of a salon … albeit wearing pyjamas and walking boots.  Believe me, some campsites leave a lot to be desired and in the past we have had some interesting ‘wet wipe washes’ as a result.

There was a big sign which pointed out that once you had pressed the shower button it would only work for 5 minutes so it would be best to be undressed before hitting the button.  Another member of our camping group didn’t read the sign and just as he’d lathered up the shower stopped.  He then had to wait 2 minutes before it would start again.  We didn’t laugh … much.

So, the husband and 3 year old undressed.  The toilet block was a hubbub of activity; people showering, brushing their teeth and using the toilet.

With them both undressed and the husband about to hit the magic shower button the 3 year old looked at himself then at the husband and said in his loud 3 year old voice “DADDY, THAT’S A BIG WILLY!”.

The husband recounts how the toilet block fell silent as people stopped brushing their teeth and wiping their arses to take in what they had just heard.  The tumbleweed rolled past the shower cubicles.

After the shower, all clean and sparkly, they emerged from their cubicle to clapping.  The husband walking with a swagger, his back aching from the weight of his enormous appendage, all the other campers gave him a high-five and then went about their business.

That last bit is totally made up by the way … well, the clapping and the high-five bit anyway …

A wee, turned into a poo.  The 5 year old likes to ‘poo and go’.  The 3 year old unfortunately likes to ‘poo and chat’, ‘poo and ponder’, ‘poo and sing’ … all in one sitting.  I was aware that the husband was making bacon butties and eggy bread and didn’t want to miss out. I felt anxious as we launched into our 3rd round of ‘The Wheels on the Bus’.

My boy cannot be rushed.  After our sing song he wanted to discuss the fact that I was taller than him, that he didn’t want to go home, whether he was going to pre-school or not that day, that he liked me and whether he could watch Wallace and Gromit when we got home.

When he announced that he’d finished I was delighted … I could taste the bacon sandwich that I would shortly be stuffing into my mouth.

It was then that I discovered to my horror that there was only one solitary sheet of toilet paper left.

I considered my options.  Could I run next door past the queue of ladies with their ‘early morning camping bladder’ and demand toilet paper whilst hoping that no one entered the single toilet with my 3 year old bent over zealously waving his bottom in the air?  No.  I checked my pockets for emergency tissues.  None.  Could we wait till we got back to the tent where there was an abundance of wipes and tissues.  No, it wasn’t that sort of poo … if you get me

So I can now testify that in moments of extreme toilet paper loss you can fold a piece of toilet paper 4 times and still have a clean bottom.

Me? I’m pinning all my hopes on her liking the holiday club at school. If she doesn’t we are doomed. Our childcare is somewhat sketchy over the school holidays and based on a mixture of OAP childminders, grandparents, me, the husband and the school club. I’m currently operating a calendar on the back of the kitchen door and a list in my bag with lots of dates, scribbles, arrows and crossings out on it. Every time I have a conversation with someone about childcare I have to synchronise the calendar and the scribbly list. At present we have 10 days where the children will be left to fend for themselves with just the dog for company. I jest of course …

My love affair with the dishwasher is reaching the end of the honeymoon period. I still love it but it still needs loading and unloading and thanks to English Mum who told me story about a child who fell on a knife in an open dishwasher I am paranoid … even the spoons are put in face down. Did you ever hear a tale of someone dying from falling on a teaspoon? No, me neither.

Since the last update I have bought eye wrinkle cream in the hope that I can halt any further canyons laughter lines caused by my hilarious life. However, as with all things, you deal with one problem and along comes another … Nasal hair. It’s suddenly decided to grow and without one of those Remington Fuzz Away jobbies which I’m sure must tickle I sought advice. My sister who is eleven years older than me and therefore well versed in the ageing process (Ahem) suggested I put Veet up my nose and then blow it after the 5 minutes is up. This frightens me.

I discovered by accident that I have been blogging a year last Friday which was quite a shock. I also discovered that without alcohol or any encouragement I am a bonafide celebrity stalker, no thanks to Facebook.   Last week during a lapse in sensible thinking and a moment of boredom a celebrity came up in my ‘people I might know’ page on Facebook. I wrote this person, who we’ll call Barbara McTavish, a long email telling her that I knew two people she knew, that I blog and we have children of a similar age and then just finished and hit send. I immediately wished that a) Facebook didn’t exist and that b) I hadn’t hit send. Funnily enough I’m still waiting for a reply. If by any remote chance she’s reading this I wish to send my apologies and I will step away from the Facebook ‘people you might know however tenuous’ section in future.

Since moving to the house I have become aware of how much shouting I do. Moving from a detached to a terrace is a shock to my system and the neighbours, not helped by …

… The 3 year old who still has an aversion to bathing. He still bathes with one foot hanging out of the bath … AT ALL TIMES whilst screaming blue murder at the mention of submerging his foot. He finished pre-school this week and starts big school nursery in September. I am having difficulty explaining the length of time between now and the start of school. Any more than 3 sleeps and I’ve lost him. This means that every morning over breakfast he excitedly asks if he’s going to big school.  It’s groundhog day.

He still wears socks to bed, although they now have to match and he watches Wallace and Gromit’s A Grand Day Out twice daily if he can. Anything less and he gets twitchy. He has taken to waking early again (pre 7am) every morning which is making …

… The Husband twitchy. He is worried because we are going camping this week and our children are renowned for waking early when camping (pre 5am). There’s nothing like sitting in a dewy field with a 3 year old in your jim jams and a Berghaus wondering what the f*ck to do for 3 hours without CBeebies until everyone else rises with only …

… The dog for company.  She likes the new house so much that yesterday she decided to just bob next door to introduce herself to our neighbours.  As in right inside their house, just mosied on in for a sniff, hopefully not a crotch based one.  We only realised when our neighbour who probably thinks I thrash my son in the bath with a belt started shrieking at her to get out.  The dog also spent the best part of last week honking on the new house carpets which was pleasant.

5 year old – A caterpillar turns into a cocoon, thrn a butterfly.  What does it turn into after that?

Me - It stays a butterfly, until it dies

5 year old aghast – But butterflies don’t die!

Me - They do eventually

5 year old thoughtfully - E said that both her Grandmas are going to die soon (E is the 5 year old’s friend, she is also 5)

Me – Why did she say that?

5 year old – Because they are very very very old

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After speaking to the husband about the Granny death talk he said he was witness to E telling the 5 year old about her Grandma’s fate.  Our 5 year old apparently retorted with “Yes, my Dad died but he came back to life”.