Tag Archives: baby

I flippin’ love apples, me!


Lashes has been redecorating her kitchen and decided that the perfect thing to finish it off would be a large photograph of Munki munching on an apple.”Get to it Mum.” Came the instruction.

God! If I charged this lot the going rate I’d be a bloody millionaire by now!

Anyway, we discussed how she wanted it to look and Len was dispatched to get the correct accessories; apples. “Green not red. Goddit? Green. Don’t get red, yellow or a combination, we only want green. Bright green. What colour are you going for?”

I’m not saying that she didn’t trust him to get the correct apples but she certainly drummed it in to him. Poor Len just looked at me ruefully before replying with that ‘covers everything’ comment, ‘Yes, love.” to Lashes and going off on his mission.

We did the shoot in the studio yesterday.  Munki immediately  grasped what we wanted her to do, eat this apple,  and performed beautifully for the camera.

Here are a few of my favourites from the shoot. To be honest there was hardly a bad photo there, I really struggled to pick just a few but I didn’t think you’d want to see all 50 of them.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Take me to Cuba!


The Argentine tango workshop was every bit as good as I thought it would be, and much better.

We spent half the afternoon clinging on to each other in a very strange fashion while  I occasionally cleaned my  shoes on the back of Boofuls legs while he occasionally decided to flick his legs about like he had a severe twitch. It’s so very different from anything we’ve danced in the past. I don’t think I’ve done with that dance yet.

The other half of the afternoon was spent dancing the salsa, Boofuls’ nemesis. He hates it. Psychologically he’s much better suited to the tango. Light hearted backside wiggling isn’t for him. me however, I love everything about it, especially the music. I’d swear I was Latina in a previous life.

Here’s a clip of the Argentine tango as a bank holiday Monday treat for you. It’s not me and Boofuls, I can only aspire to this:

After that of course the rest of the day was a bit of a non event. We didn’t get any extra practice in.  Boofuls has now not only hurt his back but also twisted his ankle yesterday evening while he was building the wall for the pergola. I’m not sure he’s cut out to be a builder, he’s a danger to himself.

While he and Big N were down in the garden doing manly stuff, me and Lashes were sipping coffee and being entertained by Munki.

Ha ha!! Upstaged by a noodle!

Weekend again!


And as normal the plan is to spend it talking to brides and grooms to be.

Tomorrow we are working a wedding fair at a big kick-ass venue in Preston.

Munki and her chickenpox have been progressing nicely. She doesn’t look quite so bad now that the  big, angry spots have mostly all blistered and turned into tiny pimples.

But grumpy? Bloody hell, she’s right off the scale!

On Thursday, Lashes and me set off on a few errands, just as we arrived at the supermarket Munki went to sleep. Me and Lashes sat and looked at each other for a minute, neither one of us relishing the thought of waking her up and trawling round a supermarket with her.

Then we noticed the time.

We could just make it to church for the afternoon service, it’s a good speaker today. What do you think? We can put Munki in her pram and she’ll probably sleep right through.

Let’s do it.

So we did, of course the baby didn’t sleep, she woke up as soon as she was lifted into her pram but she was incredibly well behaved in church and quite enjoyed being treated like a celebrity. They haven’t seen her since she was christened so everyone was thrilled to see her and made a big fuss, running round looking for colouring books and pencils, getting drinks and biscuits and generally spoiling her rotten.

It came time for the first hymn and the collection.

Carrying the baby at this point I’d already primed her that she put the the money in the collecting box. It duly came round. Lashes put her money in. I put my money in. Munki hesitated, obviously considered grabbing a handful of money out of the box and then dropped in her 50p coin. The she immediately thought better of it and shouted. “My money!”  But it was too late, it had already been whisked away, much to her disgust.

Next she decided to blow her nose on a tissue. Lashes and me laughed and sang, the church committee behind us laughed and sang and the baby blew and blew and blew her nose.  Then she shouted, “Blow Nanny’s nose”,  and thrust her  snotty tissue straight  into my face, pinching my nose hard in the process while instructing me to “Blow hard, Nanny.”

Eeewwwwwww!!  That’s just dis-gust-ing!!!

Just about everyone else in the church, including the chairman and speaker were smiling all over their faces, Lashes was almost doubled over with laughter. I however rapidly juggled my hymn book, baby and tissue and attempted to clean up baby snot from my face while baby felt my forehead, looking at me worriedly to see if I had a temperature. Disgusting as it all was, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Munki of course, realising that she was supposed to be staying as quiet as a little mouse, decided that it would be a good time to sing, practice her animal impressions and generally invent a few funny sounds as well as give a running commentary on the pictures she was drawing.

She was being a bit disruptive and a baby quickly loses it’s charm when it’s being disruptive. So I took her into the vestry to build jigsaws until I heard the final hymn and we went back in for the close of the service.

Once again, Munki charmed everyone. Sitting after the service with a cup of tea she declared that “This tea is delicious.”  Not something that your average two year old comes out with very often. The pensioners were beaming all over their faces. “oh how sweet. Isn’t she lovely?”

Hhhmmpphhh “You should have seen her an hour and a half ago.”

Enjoying the attention she then  thought that a toast would be in order so she sat bolt upright, raised her cup high saying ‘Cheers’  and toasted everything she could think of.

It was when she said, “Cheers, toilet.” that everyone collapsed with laughter again.

We’d been worried about taking a grumpy, lively two year old into the church with an elderly congregation. It was the best thing we could have done, everyone in the place was lifted by her, she was a breath of fresh air and everyone commented how nice it was to see young people in church. We might even take her again if the occasion arises, children are, after all, the future.

Chickenpox


Oh dear. Apparently 23 children were sent home from Munki’s nursery on Thursday with suspected chickenpox. Sure enough, Friday morning out popped a few spots. “Oh, hasn’t she got away lightly?” said Lashes.

Hhmmm, give it a couple more days before you start counting your chickens ( crappy pun intended hahaaaaa)

This is how poor Munki looked this afternoon. What a sorry sight she is:

happy chickenpox!

It isn’t really her birthday, the hat is a prop I bought for a photo shoot and it kept her occupied and her mind off her poor itching body for a few minutes.  I have to say she is being an incredibly brave little Munki. She’s even trying to smile for the photo.

Now I know your all thinking that my lurgy of the last few days is probably chickenpox waiting to pop out. You could very well be correct, only time will tell.

Gembolina and me went to the Trafford Centre this morning with clingons 1 & 2 to and change that rubbish trackpad I bought last week. I’ve swapped it for a magic mouse that isn’t very magic.

It refuses to scroll, right click, sing dance or perform magic tricks no matter how many times I go into preferences to set it up. Aaaarrrgghh. What is it with me and technology? Why does there always have to be a trauma before anything works properly?

Budding Artist


While me and baby Bunting were in the studio the other day, Baby was being kept amused by pens and paper as normal. She loves to draw and it’s the quickest and easiest way I can find  of keeping her amused.

Once she’d drawn on all the available paper, my price lists and a  couple of bridal magazines I keep there to make the studio look welcoming she was getting a bit bored and looking for mischief, then she turned round and saw my paper roll backdrop.

“Oh!” She said. Her eyes lit up with delight. I could almost see her thinking, ‘Now THAT”S a piece of paper for drawing on.’   She dashed to the back of the studio as fast as her little legs would carry her to get her colouring pens and set about my backdrop. Luckily, I’d spotted the look of delight on her face and managed to catch her before the pens made contact. She wasn’t a bit impressed so I had to come up with a diversionary tactic a bit sharpish.

Being just like her Mum, it was an easy diversion and I’d just completed getting the camera and computer set up.

“Shall we some take pictures of you?”

Works every time! One delighted Baby posed and played up for the camera as happy as a sand boy.

Not much going on round here today. The rain and wind is back with a vengeance, we have a couple coming to see us this afternoon for a wedding consultation and that’s about it.  Ho hum.

It’s Lashes’ birthday today so happy birthday to her. How did my youngest child get to 23 so very quickly?

We’ve been kicking around some ideas for a photo shoot as we haven’t done one together for ages. I’m not giving away our ideas just yet but it should be a lot of fun and very different so watch this space.  I’ll be starting to get the props together this week for it and I have a bit of costume design to do as well. I’m quite excited really, I haven’t had a project for a while.

In an attempt to change my working processes and get rid of the tendonitis that has been plagueing me before it becomes a permanent problem, I have invested in a Magic Trackpad. It does away with the need for a mouse or for a pen tablet and stylus. What you do is use it like the control pad on a laptop and you use your fingers to scroll, click and swipe. Sounds good, doesn’t it?

Up to now I’m not totally impressed with it. The click is way too stiff and requires too much pressure, that would cause joint problems on it’s own. Scrolling is a joke and using the lasso tool is almost impossible. I looked a bit like I was playing a symphony on a teeny, tiny  piano last night with the fingers of both hands while I was trying to make the selection. My advice is you’re thinking of buying one is: don’t.

Mine will be going back next week.

I’d probably give it another year and hopefully they will have evolved a bit and become easier to use.

When Boofuls and me go into the Apple Store it’s a bit like walking into wonderland. We walk round wide eyed gobsmacked. I think it should be compulsary for someone like me, a  reformed technophobe,  to go in their at least every three months just to keep up with what’s going on.  Technology moves on so fast it’s incredible. When I’m in there I turn into a proper geek. At least I’m not intimidated by it all like I used to be.

When we came to pay for the Trackpad, the assistant who’d been helping us said, “I’ll do it here for you.”  We looked around for a payment point, of which there was none, she just smiled at us, clearly enjoying our wide eyedness.

” I can do it right here.” She took a little payment jobbie from her pocket (ok nothing new there, I know restaurants have been doing that for ages but this one was tiny),  swiped the card, showed us our own email address and then said she’s send the receipt to it. Amazing!

Of course then I was worried that I had no receipt for the box that I’d just popped into a Selfridges bag. “I’ll print one out now for you”, she said whipping out her little machine again. While she looked at us as if she was humouring the pensioners. God. I feel so old in that shop!

 

A few photos by a proud grandma


Me and Baby Bunting did a little photo shoot in the studio last week. I had just discovered how to shoot with the camera tethered to the computer so the picture flashed straight up on the screen. Bad move. Baby just kept running over to the computer to look at her photos as they appeared.

Once the went back to the old fashioned way of doing it we got a much better, albeit short as she has the attention span of  your average gnat, photo shoot.  I put that down to the fact that she is ultra intelligent and likes to investigate everything.

She took a liking to the broom and decided to have a good old sweep up in the studio. Apart from the worry of  keeping her  from  careering straight into cables and light stands, it made for a nice, relaxed shoot with a difference.

Clean up operation
making a clean sweep of it
just whistle while you work

Heheeheee, bless her, she had such a lot of fun. It’s amazing how you only have that ten minute slot to get the photos, they go from cute and lovely to bored and fractious in no time. It’s a good job I work fast!

This next photo is one I took last summer, I came across it in the acrchives when I was doing another job.

fairy wings and red pants

Keeping with the red theme, and back in the studio. We had a little fashion show:

where did you get that hat?

You might recognise that hat, it’s the one the dog was wearing the other week. Seems to be becoming a popular prop.

While we are on the subject of the dog. I went to pick her up last night to go to our training class. The lead was handed over to me with the words. “She’s coming into season, just watch her with the other dogs.”  Ooo-er.

Walking into the class I thought that the best course of action would be to nonchalantly waft her past a few of the dogs and see if there was a reaction.  Only Harvey, the little West Highland Terrier showed any kind of interest and to be honest  he’d  shag anything. He wouldn’t have been able to reach the appropriate  bits anyway but it could have been a good laugh watching him try.

All the other dogs, including the huuuuge Weimaraner, thank God, all steadfastly ignored her, allowing us to get on with the class and not have to go and sit in the car which was being pounded relentlessly by the howling gales we had last night.

The class itself passed by uneventfully enough, Mrs Woofy was as normal, the teacher’s pet. Except, that is, when she forgot the ‘sit’ command. She looked at me from the ground where she was sprawled out, in total bemusement wehn I asked her to sit. I could tell by her face she didn’t understand what I was saying.

That was after she’d just completed the most complicated sendaway exercise ever.   I put it down to her being hormonal. Either that or she was thinking, ‘Don’t insult me with your trivial commands, I’ve just shown you what I can do now pi55 off.’ Like I said, hormonal.

Bag balloon moon


How frustrating it must be when you are desperate to tell a good story but you just haven’t got the language skills to do it.  What do you mean, I should know? Cheeky!

Lashes and the family had been out for tea on Sunday before popping in to see us. Baby Bunting came running up to me all excited, practically jumping up and down on the spot and shouting. “Moon, balloon, sky BALLOON sky, moon, balloon!”

Being well versed in the language of baby, I worked out what was going on with a bit of help from Lashes.

“Did your balloon fly away?”

“Yes. SKY, Nanny. Balloon sky.”

“Did you cry.”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees.” (sad face)

“Where’s your balloon now?”

“Moon.”

It’s obviously getting a bit untidy on the moon as the next day a carrier bag was whipped out of my car by the ridiculously strong wind that almost took the car door off. I was putting baby into her car seat at the time. As the bag whipped past our faces she watched it horrified as it flew away.

“BAG!! Sky. Moon, Nanny? Bag, balloon, moon!”  Bless.

Everyone she met that day she told the same story to. Everyone listened attentively as she tried her best to tell them. A far cry from when I was a child and children were seen and not heard. If we tried to speak, adults would just speak straight over the top of us. I’m so glad those times have changed. Children have interesting things to say as well.

Baby will be staying with us this weekend because it’s Len and Lashes Big Adventure Weekend.  They’re off to London to go and see Chicago The Musical.  They’re leaving Saturday morning and coming back Monday evening.

Wish I was going, I haven’t been to London for ages and I’d love to see Chicago. Sigh. Soon.

At the moment I’m getting excited about the  next Big Adventure for me and Boofuls.  I’ve managed to extricate a promise from him to go and spend a couple of weeks in Norway in winter freezing our backsides off in search of the Northern Lights. Hopefully we won’t actually freeze our backsides off,  * thinks*  hmmm  I really could do to get rid off it, maybe freezing it off is the answer.

Enquiries are already underway now that I’ve established the best places to go.  I’m really excited about this one, it’s been a lifelong dream of mine to see the Northern Lights. Boofuls, as normal, tolerates my nutcase schemes, just quietly sighing to himself and saying, “Yes, love.”  and letting me get on with it.

He’s not a lover of cold weather holidays. I can’t stand the heat. We’re like Jack and Mrs Spratt. How the hell have we managed to stay married so long?

New look page


Since it’s nearly Christmas….what?

Yes. You and I both know that it’s not nearly Christmas at all, it’s still over a month away but try telling that to the people round here, there have been houses trimmed up since we got home from our hols on 6th November and the shop owners seem to think it’s been Christmas since the end of August.

All this Christmas activity has put me in the mood so I’m changing the look of the blog to help things along. Nice, eh?

*sings* Jingle bells, jingle bells……”

It’s official. The decision has been made. This years tree will be purple and lime green. Yummy.  I will have to find a place for the Christmas turtle that I bought in Bardados while I listened to hoots of derision from the rest of the family.

It could have been worse – I could have opted for the Christmas star fish!  Yes, yes, I know it’s tacky (where on earth did that stupid, stupid word come from – tacky means slightly sticky – when did it start to mean in poor taste. I’m going to blame the Americans for that one – along with ‘fries’ Surely you mean chips.)  Anyway, that’s the whole point, it’s meant to be in poor taste, that’s the fun of it, silly. A tasteful turtle would be far too boring.

Caribbean Christmas Turtle

Oh yes, and the polar bear that I won in a raffle in church the other day.

polar bear

I think it’s an egg cup really but some clever dick has stuck a tea light in it and called it a ‘festive candle holder.’  Bezzie mate nearly wet herself laughing when she saw what it was since it had come all nicely wrapped in a gift bag and looked really exciting.  Honestly, we’ll get thrown out of that church for laughing one day.

Lashes and me were out shopping for winter clothes for Baby Bunting, we wandered around picking things up here and there and commenting on them. baby Bunting decided to join in and kept picking things up off the lower rails, holding them up and saying. “Oh look. This is cute.”   HAHAHAAAA How cute!!!!   In the end we got, among other things, some nice, colourful polo neck jumpers to keep the chill out and  behaved ourselves by not succumbing to the glitzy, pretty and ever so impractical pretty party and dressing up clothes that were on offer. Tsk. How boring.

Stop the world- I wanna get off!!!


We had Sunday off work. Aaaaaaahhh. It was lovely not to have nothing to do – so that’s what we did- nothing. Lounging around watching telly and relaxing.  I must have been tired, that’s not my style at all, normally I’m like Tigger on speed.

As much as I’d have like to spend this week filling little pots again I have my own business to run so I’ve decided to leave them to it. Monday morning was spent on album design and Monday afternoon as normal on baby sitting.

It was an odd one this week because Baby Bunting was ill with an upset stomach and had been vomiting like something off ‘The Exorcist’  not with the whole head twirly round thing as well, you understand. It that instance she  would really have been possessed  –  and it would have been a lot harder to deal with no, it was just projectile vomit and lots of it.

By the time I picked her up she had stopped vomiting but was pale and not at all herself.  Setting off for home from the factory I strapped her into her car seat while holding my car keys in my left hand. I couldn’t do up the straps with my hands full so I dropped the keys onto the front passenger seat. Un-noticed by me they’d locked the car. The point that I noticed was when I finished strapping the baby in and closed the door. ‘Funny,’ I thought, ‘the door lock button is……….SHIIIIIIT!’

At this point I felt my own wave of nausea as I realised the baby was locked in the car with the keys. Baby sat there smiling at me while I frantically tried all the doors. I don’t know why I tried all the doors, I could see they were locked. Next I strolled casually though to Booful’s  office so that C (baby’s mum)wouldn’t  panic.

“Got a bit of an issue outside, Boofuls.”

Boofuls came and tried to get in the car,  two young lads on a  motorbike tried to get in it ( I’d have put money on them being able to get in), The chap from the unit round the corner came as well. I dashed to see the 4wd specialist in one of the other units to see if he could help.  One chap who happened to be there at the time cheerfully shouted, “smash the windows!”  Hhmmm bit of a last resort with a baby in the car, that.

All attempts to get in the car failed, I was starting to think the window would have to go through.

By this time C had noticed the kerfuffle, the air of us were practically doing a song and dance routine to keep the baby amused while everyone else stuck screwdrivers and other paraphenalia into keyholes and such.

Just as Boofuls remembered there was a spare key at home, a couple of bigwigs turned up to do a spot check on the pot filling job. Oh crap crappity crap!  Could this day get any better? Boofuls, told them they’d have to wait while he went home for the key.

I’m not sure but I think he may have broken a speed limit or two on his journey because he was back with the spare key in record time, baby was released, Mum gave her a big hug, Nanny almost collapsed with relief.

And the moral of the story is: Keep your car keys about your person till it’s time to start the car!