Tony Hadley from Spandau Ballet lives near me. I can see in to Billy from Eastenders' garden as well, but that's less of a claim to fame...
I loved Judy Blume and Paula Danziger. Loved the Secret Garden and the Green Gables books. They gave me a love of Tennyson's Lady of Shallot. (It was Anne that used to recite that poem wasn't it, or am I going mad?) Joan Lingard was another author I loved. I'm not going to make any friends here, but I never read an Enid Blyton book I liked. Sorry. I might enjoy them more now, being more of an Anglophile, but I just didn't get them at all when I was younger. Though, that said, I did once plagiarise an EB book for an essay when I was about 7. How the teacher didn't cop on I will never know. I never did it again. I was haunted by my crime. (Not least because I thought the story was sh'te anyway. )
Speaking of books, I think part of the problem with my library is that they don't have a "children's library", just a "section". However, they do have a toy library once a week and a sing song, I believe, so they can't be that unused to babies. I suspect the "unqualified woman behind the desk" just took a dislike to me. She's done that to one of my friends. She fawns over the other children and mums at the sing song (which I've never been to) and finds reasons to scold my friend and tell her off about things every time she's there.
The major incident never made it onto the news. The longer I looked, the more it appeared to be a drugs and guns bust, rather than anything more serious. There were just regular forensics people around. Loads of what looked, from my bathroom window, like either heroin or cocaine stored in a box with a handgun. They'd moved the car and let the traffic back through by the time DH got back. He missed it!
So I was thinking last night that it might be the dichotomy between parenting a needy newborn and an ever more independent toddler that makes it hard for me. Emotions swinging hither and yon between the two of them. I expect it will be less so when my hormones settle down and I've had a bit more time to get used to it. The Boy kindly slept during bath time tonight and save for the usual trying to put her hands in it during nappy changing, we had no further poo issues. Unfortunately I am bloody shattered after a week of being cooped up with the pair of them. The weather seems to turn every time I'm almost ready to escape the house. I'm waiting for the distributors of my buggy to send me some decent raincovers to replace the ones that came with it, which is not dissimilar to one of these. Dreadful. I'm getting a single cover for each seat, which I think is better than an unwieldy double sized thingumy anyway. Plus the car seat adaptor for the baby was only sent out by the retailer today so I couldn't even be bothered to go shopping (very unlike me), because it's such a faff to get the carry cot in the car as well as the kids and the buggy and then get them all out again at the other end.
I did make a marvellous discovery last week though. When it's not pissing it down with rain, it's only two miles to Wood Green so it's walkable. I've always been lazy and hopped on the bus before. So two miles there and two miles back, up and down hills, whilst pushing about 40kgs of buggy and babies has to be good for me, surely. I bloody hate Wood Green, BUT the H&M there is completely fab, I just found out. How did that happen? Instead of the usual jumble-sale scenario which makes me walk straight back out the door of most Hennes branches; it's really well laid out, spacious and neat and tidy. Yey. Small things really are exciting me these days.
I had to laugh the other night. DH was making overtures towards me - complimenting how quickly I'm getting my figure back (he must be really frustrated because I'm three stone overweight still...) and generally getting frisky. Then he asked when I can get a new IUD and I said, "in about 4 weeks" and he goes, "Ah, let's just leave it til then shall we?" The thought of another accidental baby put him right off. O is the result of being "quite careful" as opposed to "bullet-proof". Not that I'd change anything for the world, but three under three would not be my idea of fun.
Ooh, nearly fell out with the HV yesterday. Wasn't even over any "advice". Just that she was sitting there with my notes in her hand, looking at me with a blue babygro-clad O in my arms, taking down details and when she asked O's name said, "Oh, I thought it was a boy you had." Yes it was, you farking cow. Just because you've never heard the name before, doesn't mean you can be rude about it. Blardy small minded people. I just nodded blithely to everything and thought, "I'll weigh O on the kitchen scales thanks. I don't need people like you poking their nose in."
The midwife signed us off today and her colleague, who has been doing an orientation for the last while, is really broody. TI said she was in the wrong job if she was trying to be un-broody and my midwife said that usually it's a turn off to having kids, because you see women at their worst right after the birth, with eye bags down to their knees and crying because they can't cope and then she goes, "But I shouldn't have brought her here with me. You're disgustingly together every time we come. It's no wonder she wants to have a baby." Nice to know I can fool some people anyway. Told them they should try calling round at bathtime to see if they feel the same way.