Sunday 12th May 2013

I cannot believe that our very own little Hercules has celebrated his 1st birthday this weekend :-) Everyone has really enjoyed the festivities which have personified James perfectly; a bundle of fun and trouble.

As predicted,  Bethan thoroughly enjoyed opening James' presents and playing with them whilst the Birthday Boy was more interested in the Sky+ remote (minus battery), eating the wrapping paper and terrorising everyone whilst bursting the Gruffalo balloons that I bought.

Yes, the BBQ and ensuing party was a cracking get together and even though it rained, in that Great British tradition, we didn't let it stop us. Children and adults all hunched under a gazebo whilst somebody holds an umbrella over the dad cooking, is the perfect depiction of a BBQ in the UK.

I am going to have to agree with that vastly over-generalised stereotype though which is that all of the men gravitated towards the cooking taking place around the BBQ. My question is, why don't they gravitate around your gas hob at 6 o'clock every night when you are cooking the tea and a one year old is pulling so hard on your jeans that they fall down? 

Yes, a BBQ is a social anthropologists dream. It provides the perfect tableau: men with fire and meat at BBQ; women struggling with children in cave, ahem, under gazebo.

Even though I forgot to cut and hand out the birthday cake as well as forgetting to let the young children ice their own fairy buns in addition to having 3 huge vats of jelly in the fridge that I forgot to dish out, the party was still a triumph! Our son had a wonderful birthday weekend because even though we are far away from our families, we were surrounded by good friends. 

Sunday 21st April 2013

Good Lord! What a weekend! Alpha Mum and Beta Dad have been in sixth gear whilst towing the kids along for the ride. At one point I though, "oh eck, I've become one of those pushy mums". You know the ones.

They stand at the side of the stage during the 'Britain's Got Talent' auditions whilst their 4 year old is singing Charles Gounod's Ave Maria, proceeded by a dance from musical theatre featuring a copious amount of jazz hands before ending their act with the soliloquy from Juliet's death scene. At the end Simon Cowell says, "I didn't like it...(CROWD BOOS - CHILD CRYING INCONSOLABLY)...I loved it! (CROWD CHEERS, AFORESAID PUSHY MUM RUNS ON THE STAGE AND EMOTIVE MUSIC SUCH AS 'THE FLOOD' BY TAKE THAT IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND; CHILD STILL CRYING BUT WITH A WRY SMILE)

Just to rewind back a little, our Friday night started calmly and routinely. By that I mean red wine, a take away and my weekly texts from my friends at Pizza Hut and O2 Priority Moments. When I started to receive these texts I was initially cheesed off with spam infiltrating my messages. However, I then realised that they were two out of possibly four, five at a push, text messages that I receive each week so if they stopped, I'd probably be gutted.

To summarise the weekend as it happened:

Saturday am:

Bethan's Ballet Lesson (a different class where some lovely lady plays the piano)

Saturday pm:

Swimming Lesson 1 - Bethan
Swimming Lesson 2 - James
Children's Birthday Party

Sunday am

Mass and Sunday School

Sunday pm:

Family photo shoot
Gardening
G&T o'clock (well, why should the kids have all the fun?)

It is a sad fact that our children have a better social life than us. Mind you, going to birthday parties for the children is the only time that you can get a group of good friends together to have a catch-up. Ok, so we might be catching-up whilst our third eye is on constant guard for crying or injured children but nevertheless, I think I look forward to these events more than the children as I get to see what has been going on outside of the Hillier bubble.

This is why I've decided to organise a BBQ for 3 weeks time under the guise of celebrating James' 1st Birthday. In all fairness, James could not be bothered if he has a party or not as long as he can chew on someone's foot or shoes (they tell me it's a phase). The planned BBQ is founded on purely selfish reasons; I just want to have another catch-up with friends again. It will be like the old times except that we will be dancing around potties and Little Tikes playing equipment as opposed to our handbags.

The only problems with my cunning plan is: a) I forgot to put the date in the virtual invite I sent out (ok, a text message then) and b) we don't actually have a BBQ because the last one we had was used to help hold up our fence after a big gust of wind knocked it down. That poor thing rusted away against the fence for some time - it ended up looking like some kind of post-modern art work.

I digress. Again.

Whilst it was indeed a very busy and tiring weekend it was fab and full of funny memories! To top it off, the sun shone on the garden whilst I listened to Chaka Khan and watched the kids play with each other in their wee playpen. Bliss...

Saturday 9th February 2013

Bethan is like the Queen...she gets two birthdays!

We had her party today at the local soft play company (named after a 1950's board game) and considering we've been plagued with illness and had a certain amount of worry with regards to the competence of the aforementioned company, it went extremely well. Even the 16 year old Party Hostess wasn't too bad. No Fizbo the Clown but still she managed to stop the CD at the right time and cut the cake perfectly. It's a shame Rob didn't realise that the party bags were named and had gender specific toys in them when he handed them out, but then again, who cares?

The main thing was all of the children seemed to have lots of fun and enjoyed eating the party food and cake. Although we still have to explain to Bethan the rules behind pass the parcel as she still insists on holding the parcel when she gets it and the music stops!

It was really lovely to see everybody and my gorgeous girl had a fantastic time.

She partied hard and then crashed out on the sofa whilst watching Toy Story 2 (again!).

Sunday 2nd February 2013

They came, they saw, they celebrated and they went...back to the North West.

For the first time in three years Rob and I celebrated, guilt-free the birth of our amazing daughter and the Christening of our beautiful son; surrounded by a family that have been unfailing in their support to us and friends who have picked us up when we hit rock bottom.

You know you've either had an amazing weekend or a crap weekend when you wake up and your eye makeup makes you look like Alice Cooper.

Fortunately for me it was the former. I don't often put on a bit of slap; funnily enough it's not a priority for me in the mornings when I'm up to my neck in baby poo and a toddler's snotty nose. I feel like I'm doing the world a favour if I'm out of my pj's by noon.

But it felt fantastic to get my hair done, dust down the Clarins (side-thought: I'm sure I read somewhere that make-up goes out-of-date. If that is the case then my skin is up shit creak without a paddle) and dress up with my family.

It's amazing watching how your baby develops in such a short space of time too. Surrounded by his friends and cousins, James just blossomed. He will definitely give Bethan a run for her money in a few months.

My American friend said that watching a baby develop is compelling because it's like watching a science experiment unfolding. I agree, watching my children develop is as fascinating as it is wonderful. And like a science experiment, you're never quite sure what the results will be but it's damn exciting, shrouded in tentative moments and can be very funny.

After lots of attention and interaction this weekend, James has gone from rolling around like an Olympic gymnast on the floor to a confident little crawler.

He keeps trying to get through the curtains like those people who were on 'Stars in their Eyes' and said "Tonight Matthew, I'm going to be..." except that he hasn't actually managed to get through to the other side to the dried ice and music. However, it's only a matter of time before he appears as Neil Diamond.

In the meantime James continues to wrap himself up in the curtains, terrorise the cat and build up the courage to crawl to his Everest: the front door. I'm just really pleased that A&E is five minutes around the corner.

Thursday 31st January 2013

It is hard to believe that Bethan will be three tomorrow. We have been planning her birthday weekend alongside James' Christening for a number of months now and with the imminent arrival of all of our family from Wales and Manchester, it is hard not reflect on the fact that if it wasn't for the wonders of modern technology and the genius of Mr Tsang, her surgeon, we wouldn't be celebrating anything right now.

It is also a wonder that the good people of Ipswich have not locked their cars away in fear that their wheel trims might get nicked because of the slightly tainted reputation of Mancs and people from the Valleys. They have nothing to fear; those days are long behind me now. I'm a respected member of society in a reputable job with two young children to look after. Plus, with the economic downturn, wheel trims just don't hold their value the way they used to ;-)

Seriously though, this is the first time that Bethan will have had any immediate family with her for her actual birthday and it certainly feels very joyous and exciting. She hasn't been too well (raised temperature and all that) but I feel calm(er) than I thought I would. I know she is strong enough to fight any infection after fighting off several deadly ones when she was born and her bowel began to necrotise.

Up until this year I have selfishly dreaded Bethan's birthday because the memories of what happened up to her being born and then what happened immediately after were still painfully raw. Although I remember we had a good do for her first birthday as it coincided with Bethan being discharged from the care of the surgeon. We invited everyone including friends of ours who do not have children. One of them asked if they could bring anything so I said that they could make some jellies. When she turned up with vodka jellies I laughed so hard I nearly wet myself. I had to make sure that none of the children mistook them for the jelly that was to go with their ice cream.

Yes; tonight I will be raising a glass to all those amazing people who work in neonatal units around the country. And, like every night, I will say a wee prayer for Tommy, Amy-Leigh, Maxi, Ruby (with her angel wings), Evie, Bethan and Harriet and their mummy's and daddy's. We shared such a time on the intensive care unit and we still managed to laugh. Especially when we were sneaking in contraband teas and coffees to the unit :-)

Love you Bethan Alice; you're amazing xxx

Saturday 26th January 2013

Think I might need to consult Pippa's 'Celebrate' book after all. Getting increasingly twitchy about upcoming events. I heard the book didn't do too well so I should be able to pick it up for a couple of quid from 'The Works' in town.

I feel like I'm a kids' party debutante even though I'm not the one dressing up, showing off, getting to eat jelly whilst running around a number of chairs to music in the vain hope that I'm not the one who lands on my arse when the music stops.

A good friend warned me about how, when your children get to school, it really becomes a big deal. I also felt a little disconcerted when I was telling my sister-in-law about Bethan's birthday plans and she heaved a huge sigh of relief. She said she was glad that my nephew was old enough now that she didn't have to do it.

Following my research, to summarise, children's parties (especially for the older child) generally seem to fall into one of the following three categories:

1. Competitive: Venue size, matching accessories (including table confetti), hand-crafted cake, a theme etc etc are very important.

2. Selective: Unlike the above, only the chosen few are invited to do some activity like skating, pizza making or tight rope walking which invariably means that some child is left out.

3. Inclusive: This is the complete antithesis to number two; this is where you have to invite the whole class. My good friend said that she has been attending parties with her children where they have invited everyone in the class PLUS family and friends. One party, she said, included 45 x 5 year olds. I'm no Carol Voderman but even I know that is a lot of kids.

Thankfully, these dilemmas are two years away (Although they are hardly on par with real dilemmas like in the Meryl Streep film 'Sophie's Choice').

For Beth's 3rd birthday I have decided that getting someone to do it all for you is the way forward. This is the type of party where you can build some kind of package.

It's a bit like ordering a new car. You think you need all the extras and when listed separately, it looks like you have a good deal. That is until you leave the forecourt and realised you have been shafted.

I will not name the local company charged with sorting the party out (I can say that they are called after a popular child's board game from the 1950's). Following the initial booking where I was lulled into a false sense of security that it would be straightforward, I then phoned to check some of the details. Speaking to the young man did not fill me with confidence as he made the organising of a party for a 3 year old seem as complicated as splitting the atom.

Therefore, I have had to make a contingency plan B in case the aforementioned company named after a 1950's popular boardgame, bugger it up.

Also, I've organised it so the party is in the morning so that us adults can order a takeaway and gin and tonic in the afternoon and then collapse in bed by the evening. I remember when Saturday nights involved slippery nipples, dancing around your handbag (that was if you could dance as your shoes might be stuck to the nightclub floor) and a dirty kebab on the way home.

But I must say that children's parties can be incredibly funny and a social anthropologists dream.

I've been to a party where I saw someone sat having a cup of tea and reading a good Thriller at the side whilst all chaos was breaking loose around them. I was very impressed with their ability to do this. Although I would have chosen a Bronte book personally. Being transported to the wild and treacherous moors of Yorkshire would be a lot calmer than a three year old's birthday party. Trying to stop Bethan and most of the other kids from picking their nose and then trying to pick the icing off the cake, is a trial

The one thing I like about them though is that the majority of the adults seem as dazed and confused as you and there is a subconscious camaraderie.

Hands up to those parents who organise and prepare their children's party from start to finish. As for me, well, a soft play party it is. As long as Bethan and the other kids are happy and have fun and I get a g&t at the end of it chez Hillier will be a happy place. 3 years ago Bethan gave the fight of her life so now it's time to do some serious celebrating.