Mummyfried

Break open the bubbly! Today is the last day of the 30 day blog a day challenge. Time to celebrate an achievement. It’s a mixed bag of feelings and awakenings.  I am: Ecstatic that I stuck to it, and got through it. Amazed that I managed to juggle a blog a day with two kids under three and Mr. Lucky. In addition to the mundane, I have spent the last 30 days looking for alternative accommodation in Greece and the UK. We are moving to another short stay apartment – so am packing up to move house. AND we’re looking at apartments to move in to for when we go back to London, am packing up what we currently don’t need to ship that back to London. FUN!! Thrilled that I managed to reconnect with Ms. Lintern. Sad that the challenge is over – I enjoyed dusting off my brain, and giving the fingers a workout. Relieved that it’s come to an end, the pressure is off.  It got tough towards the end. Liberated.  I have managed to expel a range of random thoughts

. I often don’t write about things that make my blood boil or things that upset me. I take all that out on Mr. Lucky, and I pity my keyboard. It has already lost the TAB button and I don’t think I could bear it if I lost any other key. Being in Greece for some time now I have seen shops close, people lose their jobs, and homes. The Greek financial crisis has created a fear that has dented Greece’s normally euphoric,’ live and love life to the fullest ‘state of being. There is a growing divide between those who have, and those who have not. We were in a taverna the other day. A young man came in selling candles. Nobody bought any. He left looking devastated, desperate and lost.  After lunch, we walked to a children’s play cafe to let Little Miss run around. While we sat there, the same young man came in this time without his bag of candles and asked the proprietor for work.  Without even looking at him, the proprietor asked him to leave.  As he escorted him towa

Last night we met up with some new friends. In typical Mr. Lucky and Mummyfried style, we didn't know their names. They must have told us their names the first time we met, but of course it was summer, we had just arrived in Greece and were drunk on sun, good food and tsipouro (a rocket fueled version of ouzo).  To be honest for a while I thought their names were Baby and Sweetie. When they started to call each other ‘Cutie’ or ‘Lovey’ I realised I had missed the initial name exchange. I had a rare moment of genius and asked the husband whether his name was pronounced differently in Portuguese as opposed to Greek. So now we know the man’s name. Mr. Lucky and I have names for each other Mr. Lucky being one, and more descriptive names when we have very very loud conversations.  He also goes by Mr. Cranky, Mr. Messy, Mr. Funny, Mr. I am in so much trouble, but I can’t say he ever goes by Mr. All Loved Up, or Mr. Baby. Do people grow into the names or nicknames t

As a new parent, you find yourself paying attention to things or dealing with things you would much rather avoid… like poo. You are wiping it off baby or his / her clothes after those little soft cheeks have parted to erupt. You are wiping it off your leg after it has seeped through his / her onsie and clothes. You are observing it, Is it soft, hard, runny, green, black, yellow? The color and consistency means something. There are websites with pictures that explains whether baby needs more veg, or if he / she is eating well, or not. It’s not pleasant.  Well,yesterday, I had had enough of it. After cleaning baby for what felt like the 100 th time, I popped her and her clean butt into the pushchair and went for a walk. No prizes for guessing what I rolled over. My nose could do with some work but its engine is working fine.  In this case, I didn’t feel it. I smelt it.  And it smelt BAD. I looked around for a puddle or long grass to roll over, nothing.

Mr. Lucky plans to out try new recipe today. Yesterday he left the ingredients out on the kitchen bench in preparation. Like theatre staff prepping the surgeon’s tools before a big operation, I arranged his purchases, pulled out saucepans and chopping boards. I then searched high and low for it, and with a sinking fearful realisation, I discovered yet again, that the peeler was missing.  I am afflicted with repetitive TOTPAS. For those ignorant to illnesses of the domestic kind, TOTPAS is short for Throwing out the Peeler Again Syndrome. I haven’t met anyone else with this serious disease. I skipped out to the corner store to find a replacement peeler. . Sunday trading in this Greek Home and Away town is non-existent. It’s the corner store or nothing. I told Mr. Right that I had to buy  Little Miss a treat as she had been a very very good girl over the weekend (that part of my cover story was true). I must be the only person in this sleepy town with TOTPAS, as they didn’t sto

As February rolls in, I can’t help but think this year is starting to gain momentum. I am determined to keep hold of most of my New Year Resolutions (I am losing the ‘get fit’ & ‘eat healthy’ resolutions. They were boring anyhow).  I am still on track with celebrating even the little things. To keep this going, I need to do key dates differently. Put on the party hats people, this is the month of love. Valentine’s Day and Little Miss’ birthday are both in February. Don’t panic, this is not a love story blog about me and Mr. Lucky. It’s too soon for another blog about how brilliant Little Miss is.  I haven’t written about The Baby, yet. Don’t stop reading, today is not that day either. It is a blog about love though. The blog is dedicated to a group of women that I love. Friends old and new. Individuals that have allowed me to throw my head back, open my mouth and show off my one filling as I laugh and laugh and feel alive. They are responsible for the additional wisd

When my mother decided on a career change, she went to college, completed a child care course and started her own child care business.  I helped her with her assignments; cram for her exams. We even attended First Aid training courses together.   After passing the police check (she tried to convince me that it was a work requirement, I still don’t believe her) she let me work for her during my university holidays. It was fantastic. I got paid to run around with a bunch of cute kids and play games.   One would think the above would have prepared me for Little Miss. Well… As a newborn, she rarely slept.  She grew older and we tried to introduce a routine. Despite an active day, nap or quiet time and a strictish 7 pm bedtime, she would sing in her cot from 7 pm to 10 pm. nonstop.  The neighbors commented. As a nearly three year old she now sleeps all the way through. In our bed. She wakes me in the middle of the night to tell me to be quiet (if I am snoring, talking