Mind the gap

We have been in the process of moving house for nearly a month now, and had things gone to plan, we would be happily ensconced in our new home by now.  But because these things are never as easy as they shoud be, we are still in our old place, but without the joy of tv, phone or internet connections.  So now I can only blog when I can kidnap The General's internet usb thingy.  I have been saving up my posts for the last few days, so here they are...

Saturday shopping vs online shopping...

When Beautiful Girl came along, I made The General do the grocery shopping, so his solution was to make best use of the world wide wonder and do our grocery shopping online.  It is amazing.  For €4, I can have someone else push a trolly, fill crates and have a nice man bring it to my door.  I don't have to deal with wonky trollies, other people stopping suddenly in the middle of an aisle or label feed errors on weighing machines. 

So, what was different about this afternoon?  Well, since the General is off doing General-ly inspiring things today, and Beautiful Girl is sick of the sight of me, needs must, and off we went to Dunnes for a wander and some spuds. Won't I ever learn?  I really hate shopping centres on Saturday afternoons, particularly when they are miserable, grey, liable to bucket down on you without a moment's notice, Saturday afternoons.  *Sigh*.  

The centre we went to is the nearest one with an underground car park (essential given the aforementioned weather) but it's pretty old, so there are no baby accoutrement friendly spaces that I could find.  I ended up getting lucky and finding a space beside a pillar so we had an extra bit of space on that side, and no one had yet parked on the other.  Small mercies.  After unloading the wheels and manhandling the car seat out of the back and onto the wheels (a major victory in itself), off we went. 

Those flat escalators are not the wonder I alway thought they were.  Beautiful Girl tried to run me over more than once when I didn't have my full weight pushing her against the forces of gravity and wheels on a slope.  In addition to dealing with a runaway buggy, some aul fella decided to tell me I was completely wrong to have a mini mobile in front of her to play with - apparently it was getting in her way!  I wouldn't mind, but I had only put the bloody thing on the seat this afternoon to try to distract her in the car.  So, helpful advice ignored, off I went in search of a basket, which were all for some reason at the far end of the store.  I eventually found one with two functioning handles and traipsed off to find the potatoes.  Thankfully I didn't have much to get because the arm was about to fall off me by the time I headed towards the checkout.  A word of warning - if you ever see me in a shop, check which till I headed for, then go the one beside it.  You can be sure that if I've only one person ahead of me buying only bread and milk, and there's a queue of 14 people with two trollies each, they will be finished before I will.  The people in front of me always seem to pick up the only item in the store's history that doesn't have a working bar code and the price has to be made up by a committee of EU Commissioners.  Seriously.  But, at least I could put the arm-breaking basket on the conveyor belt, and Beautiful Girl seemed to forgive me for my horrible behaviour in putting her new toy on her seat, so we made faces at each other to pass the time. 

When the world of the bar code and the till-operating-key-keeper was finally reset spinning on its axis, my 4 items sailed through the zapper and we were away again.  I briefly attempted to have a look in a clothes shop, but the rails were so close together that even people without a buggy were finding it hard going so I abandoned my quest for clothes that don't have vomit on them.  Again with the travelator but this time I was stopping the princess chariot running over perfect strangers as we gave gravity a hand by travelling in the same direction as she was going.  People were very clever and gave my car a nice wide berth in the car park, so I was able to get her ladyship and all her trappings back in with relative ease, and I escaped the subterranian assault course without nobbling any pedestrians.

And as my parking ticket was spat out at me for the third time and I pressed the help button and listened to the disembodied monotone, I was very happy to remind myself that I will be doing my full shop tomorrow from the safety of my couch and a nice man will come to my door on Monday afternoon with a smile and enough food for the week. 

Now the kettle's on and thank God one of my four items was a sticky bun...

So I've been thinking...

These are the words that scare The General.  The topic of the thinking is usually less worrisome, but the fact that I've been doing it always throws him for a loop!  So some of the most recent thinking has been

• I don't want to go back to work
• I think Beautiful Girl should go to a childminder rather than a creche
• I need (is that the same as want?) a new car
• we should do more "family time" activities
• I need to find some sort of pen that's also a torch so I can write down my blog ideas in the middle of the night without having to turn on my phone light or scribble in the pitch black on God knows what, possibly a bib or something...
• I might try a mad colour to dye my hair

Maybe it's no wonder he worries...

How to smell like a chipper

I have discovered the wonder that is vinegar.  It's like magic...from what I can make out, it does everything your common or garden bleach does, but it's eco-friendly.  I'm using it for removing the stains from Beautiful Girl's vests after exploding nappies, and for wiping down her changing table.   Sure the place smells like you're having your favourite 1 and 1 for dinner, but if it saves harsh chemicals on everything BG touches, I'm willing to put up with 10 minutes of pong.  I'm going to start branching out and using it mixed with things like bread soda for cleaning.  There are some great ideas on http://www.vinegartips.com/Scripts/

Breastfeeding in Ireland

I'm a breastfeeding Mum and loving it.  Thankfully it's going well, so I feel confident when I'm out and about with BG to feed her in public.  For those who may not be so comfortable and fear the reactions of idiots, thecontentedlittlemummy has a great post (which I forgot to put up here the other day).
http://thecontentedlittlemummy.com/?p=56

I love lists

Right now I am sitting at my kitchen table and if my post ends abruptly, send help because I'm buried under an avalanche of paper.  I love lists.  They mean I get things done.  They mean I can sleep at night. They give me a sense that I can keep on top of things.  The General doesn't understand lists.  He just does things.  He throws out my lists (along with my receipts, but that's another post). 

Right now I can see lists in front of me for:

• online shopping 
• corner shop shopping
• house moving
• house packing
• baby shopping (that's things Beautiful Girl needs, we're not looking for a second child just yet)
• pros and cons for going back to work
• pros and cons of setting up my own business
• things I need to set up my own business
• thoughts which might make interesting posts

And these are just the ones on paper.  On my laptop desk top I have more lists

• "inspiration" for my business idea
• books I want to down load for my Kindle
• tv shows I want on box sets
• questions to ask on the mum and kids forum I read
• questions to ask my mum about BG
• dates I have to remember

And then there's the ultimate list, the one that will come into its own I'm Benevolent Despot of the World.  Unless you're on that one, you'll never need to worry about it.  It's reserved for people who don't know how to drive or park and who show willful disregard for the English language, the use of prepositions and apostrophies. 

Bedtime

When I lived alone, I could very happily sleep all night on exactly one half of my double bed, and not so much as ruffle the sheets on the other side.  The General can somehow unmake an entire bed, all by himself, in the half hour between him going to bed and me trying to get in beside him.  Frustrating.