Saturday 25th May 2013: London, Part 2. A Family Affair

I've been to London many times but going with my own little family and my brother's family was the best. It reminded me of going to the zoo and not because the Capital is full of animals. No, it reminded me of when we went to the zoo last year for the first time with Bethan. Seeing something that you have seen many times before and taken for granted each time, suddenly becomes a whole new world when looking at it through the eyes of a child.

The journey was indeed an intrepid one. It involved: The train (by the way, if you upgrade to First class for an extra £7.00 why do all the people who have paid in advance look at you whilst your children are climbing the table as if to stay, What on earth are children doing in First Class?); the tube; an open top-bus; a taxi (the driver told us off because Bethan had a wet bum. I tried emphatically to reassure him that she had spilled orange juice on herself in the first class carriage on the train but I'm sure he thought it was wee) and a boat trip.

First stop was the greatest toy shop in the world: 'amleys (Still dropping those /h/s). I don't know who had the most fun; Rob and my brother or the kids! The fun continued on our preferred method of transport - Open-top buses are certainly the best way to see a place: Final. I always thought it was such a 'touristy' thing to do and felt like a bit of an inverted-tourist snob but no, it was brilliant because we saw EVERYTHING! We even witnessed Crystal Palace fans singing and cheering on their way to Wembley (they eventually beat Watford 1-0 and I was very pleased because their singing and chanting far exceeded those of Elton John's chosen football club). Apart from being a little wind-swept and having chapped cheeks, it was so much fun.

Favourite time of the day was by the Tower of London because: a) We changed James' pooey nappy outside it and we didn't get arrested for bum exposure in public (according to our own tourist guide, Mr Robert Hillier the Tower is still a prison) and b) We befriended 3 Chelsea Pensioners who humbled us. In fact, one of them, Joe, invited me to visit him at The Royal Hospital in Chelsea. Rob said that only I could visit London with my family and befriend a Chelsea Pensioner.

Lots of amazing memories were made that day. Even the English Defence League who were 'protesting' outside Parliament Square with a huge police presence, couldn't spoil our day. It's ironic really considering they were protesting loudly in one of the largest multi-cultural and diverse cities on earth. Their need to push, shout and generally try to intimidate those who were around (they failed by the way) reminded me of the quote made by Archbishop Desmond Tutu's father who said to him, "Don't raise your voice. Improve your argument".

If only...

Beth's interpretation of her trip to London
(with a little help from me ;-)

Our new friends: Joe is the 3rd in from the left

Saturday 6th April

3am this morning

That's it! Finally! I've remembered what I wanted to blog about the other night...stolen buggies!

Unfortunately this illuminating thought happened in the middle of the night, but still! It's like when you're trying to remember the name of that 1985 record at the local pub quiz when suddenly, a few nights after the quiz has finished, you're fast asleep and you dart upright and shout, "Agadoo!". This is also the moment when the person lay beside you has a heart attack with fright at the thought that Black Lace might be in the room.

Yes, that was it, stolen buggies. I recently came across this article from my MEN (Manchester Evening News) app with the following headline: Greater Manchester a hotspot for 'posh pushchair' thefts and that, coupled with the fact I dared to open the door to the downstairs toilet (which is at present being held up  by a number of buggies) got me thinking about the issues surrounding pushchairs; stolen or otherwise. 

Within the article there was a sense of buggy or pram 'envy' as it is known. Whilst interviewing people from around the Cheshire area, the parents immediately listed the name of their buggy and it's value. At least one of the mother's did make reference to their child being their most precious thing. Whereas another mother seemed more concerned that the potential theft of her pram would be "a big blow" to her. A big blow to you? What about the poor beggar sat in the pram???

Within the article, I was surprised that there was no mention of people stealing the Bill and Ted buggy.This is a very expensive twin buggy where the baby is on some parcel shelf next to the floor and the toddler is sat in the chair above them. 

About 14 months ago we thought we might invest in one. I was 8 months pregnant with James and I knew that Bethan couldn't be trusted on a) a buggy board or b) to hold onto the pram. A double buggy would be just the job but they are so wide you would need to work, shop and live in a barn to get them through doors. 

So we trundled into a major mothering superstore in Ipswich to just see how close to the pavement your newborn baby would actually be (it turned out to be very close). When we asked to see another model of the Bill and Ted buggy they said to us as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "Sorry, no can do, it was stolen earlier today". We were like, "When? How? What?" to which they replied "Yeah, somebody must have walked in and just pushed it out" !!!! PUSHED IT OUT! There are no words.

Actually, there are.

It just shows that it is not only the Mancs who appreciate the value of a good buggy; those from Sleepy Suffolk also like to get in on the act.

There is one way to get around this incredibly difficult dilemma; you could use a wheelbarrow to push your child around in. Nobody would want to steal one of those; additionally, think of all of the other stuff you could get in there. These 'posh pushcairs' might be fancy and expensive but where the hell can you put any of your shopping?

Thursday 4th April 2013

There's no way you can get into our downstairs loo; it makes The Krypton Factor assault course look like the baby section in Snakes and Ladders. It's fully of buggies of various descriptions that won't fit anywhere else especially since I've gone back to work and the boot of my car looks like a mobile classroom.

This means that we are having to rely on using the toilet on the middle floor and it made me realise just how lazy I had become as I'm saying to myself, "I need to go upstairs for a wee and I can't be arsed" (To be fair, when I use the downstairs loo it means that I can keep a watchful eye on what is happening in the living room because as soon as my back is turned, usually one child teases the other). Ho hum.

Suddenly, as my random train of thought began meandering to the upstairs loo I started to think about how having one toilet between 7 of us when we were growing up never posed a problem at all. Then, I got to thinking even further back about when my mam lived in a two up and two down and the toilet was outside in the back yard. Finally, it got me thinking about some of the lesser developed countries that I have been to and worked in where I've had to do some things so that I can have a wee that makes Glamping in this country look like the bloody Hilton!

I was going to discuss the trouble with buggies in this blog entry but now my train of thought is going right out of the window; I mean, are we on the brink of nuclear war? No one will want to buy a second-hand i-Candy pram then will they?

Crikey! I wish I'd never looked in that damn toilet now - I've completely forgot what I was going to blog about :-s

On a completely different tangent, I found this book at m'mam's last weekend. How fab is this?
Cooking IS Fun (notice, no exclamation mark to lighten the mood) YOU WILL ENJOY IT! (That's
my imaginary sub-heading)