A typical day.

A typical day, honestly, really I can't lie and say it starts with a family breakfast where we discuss current affairs, ok.

A typical week day starts, thankfully, with Paul bringing me a cup of coffee, he does this 99% of the time but the days he doesn't are the days I could punch him in the head so thankfully it's most days. 

Paul's up first which is good, I get up when I hear the woman next door go to work, it's a bad system to rely on as it can back fire if she's ill or has a day off. 

Most days are the same, Paul opens the kids curtains, they groan, I get in the shower, Jack comes in uses the loo, promises not to flush. 

Tommy is usually downstairs lounging on the setee eating his cereal like he's got all the time in the world. 

I then have to find one, two or all of their clothes! Get my self dressed and dry my hair, I hate drying my hair and never put much effort into it. I then go down stairs and make the sandwiches, hunt for school bags and shoes and moan at the kids to eat up, get dressed, clean their teeth, move faster. . .I get the dog in if she's outside barking, tidy round  (load dishwasher on a good day!) And try to leave the house tidy as it will annoy me all day if I know we've left it a mess. 

Most days we have the car but some days we rush I mean walk to school, I work at the same school so that makes life a little easier. As I said in the previous blog I'm a teaching assistant, I work in early years, which is great fun. 

'you might not ever get rich, but let me tell ya it's better than diggin a ditch'

So 8.45 - 12 or 3.15 (yeah as if!) depending on the day consist of all kinds of fun! 

Noise, snot, tears, stories, paint, play doh, toast, milk, maths, reading, writing listening, talking, laughing, walking not running, more coffee, letters, sounds, the bell. On my afternoons off I catch up on cleaning, shopping or Mad Men. 

Then its Home time. 

The complete opposite of the morning, a leisurely stroll home (or short drive) chatting about their day. 

Through the door and a half-hearted welcome these days from Martha, a cup of coffee, chat to the boys, snack and a drink, tv, ipods or garden for them, tidy round, unload dishwasher and washing machine and think about tea whilst checking Facebook for me. 

5 pm Martha's tea time heaven forbid you forget!!

We always sit together for tea and Paul's usually home before or during. 

I like to tidy the kitchen after tea and I like to think this always happens. 

A typical summers day means the kids are back outside playing football or if its really cold and wet we're all in watching tv together (I'm talking sub zero and torrential rain as they'll be out all weathers) , one of us will take the dog out and lately I've been going for a jog but this hasn't become regular enough to be typical yet! 

Then the moan we had about getting them out of bed turns into the moan about getting them into bed. I'm usually competing with a football match and I usually lose. 

Once we've gone through the never ending bedtime ritual (that's a blog in itself) I usually hit the sack myself all my plans of doing the sandwiches or ironing or reading the books that are gathering dust by my bed fly out the window and I sit in bed watching tv with Martha snuggled between us (or growling underneath it) 

As you can see we're pretty relaxed, no after school clubs or scouts, beavers or boys brigade. We have gymnastics on a Thursday and our weekends are filled with football, training Saturdays, matches Sundays, I wouldn't have it any other way.

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Others taking part in blog everyday

Penelope's Vintage World 
JJC Photography
Little White Cottage 
Elfie's Smile
Gianina Blog
Kay Patterson's Blog

Who am I

I have joined a blog challenge set by PVB.

Today the subject is 'Who am I' I started to write the opening to this blog in my head when I saw it on the Little White Cottages Facebook page, then I read her blog and we'd had a similar idea. 

Of course there will be those of you that are a similar age to me who instantly started repeating 'who am I, who am I' (who are you in the film!)

Luckily I didn't have a biro to clip on my lip and push up my nose like Brian from The Breakfast Club. 

So Who am I...

I'm Lindsey, as a toddler I was the one with wild blonde hair that liked dancing and singing in front of the tv, wanted a little sister called Polly, got a brother, called him Polly any way (sorry Dan)

I'm the girl who didn't mind going to school, who liked school uniform, who loved to make a revision timetable but didn't do the revision, who loved art, loved a gossip and a laugh, didn't have loads of friends but lots of people remember me. 

I'm the one who's done a bit of this and a bit of that, I wanted to be a fashion designer or a teacher when I was at school, I'm now a teaching assistant.

I've worked in bars, restaurants, shops and abroad. 

At 17 I was working as a waitress (not in a cocktail bar) when I met Paul,

In 96 I moved to London and worked at Selfridges, in 97 I came back. 

In 99 we went to Corfu for the summer. I came back.

I like my home, my space. 

In 2000 I started university aged 26, a fine art degree at last! But more portent events meant I didn't complete it.

In 2001 we got Martha our westie. 

In 2002 we had Tommy, a beautiful boy who kept me waiting and came out like super man. 

In 2004 we got married on a gorgeous summer day. 

In 2006 we had Jack, another bouncy boy,he arrived through the sunroof!

The last four dates are the most important to me, as a child I'd always wanted a westie and two boys ( and ironically to marry a boy called Paul lol)

Who am I ... I'm lucky. 

Who am I ... I'm Lindsey.

I'm a mum, a wife, a dog owner, a vegetarian, a Birmingham City fan, a homemaker, a cook, a cleaner, a story teller, a listener, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a cuddler, a soccer mum, a blogger, a lover and a fighter, a finder of lost objects...

Many things to many people. 

But when I'm on my own I'm the girl with the (not so wild - not so blonde) hair dancing in front of the tv, round the kitchen, in the car, the super market...

http://www.pvbonline.co.uk/blogs.html

Other blogs in the challange...

Penelope's Vintage World 
JJC Photography
Little White Cottage 
Elfie's Smile
Gianina Blog
Kay Patterson's Blog

Winter warmer!

I'm sat in the car watching my husband, my two boys and about 4 dads and 15 kid,s maybe more ( they move too fast to count) playing football.
(Paul runs a mini soccer team and trains local kids for free every saturday morning "no fee, kids train free" )
They are all having a fantastic time, laughing and cheering, they've all got pink cheeks and huge smiles. After a cold and icy week it's just what my two have needed, cooped up in school unable to play out because the playground is too icy and someone might fall over!!!

There isn't a coat between them and about four of them are wearing shorts, I can't speak for the others but my eldest hasn't had a day off for two years.
A mum at school asked me in the week why the playground had been out of action and said she'd stayed in school until 4 whilst her two boys had ran around ( a then defrosted ) playground, she commented that we need to teach kids how to be safe and walk on slippy paths and that boys need a release and I totally agree with her.
(In complete contrast to this, we had to walk four classes back from the church yesterday in the freezing rain wearing Christmas costumes!!??)

I've thought for a long time that we wrap them in to much cotton wool, how about you?

How old do you think I am?

We play a game in the car with the digital clock on the dash, at 20:02 Tommy is born and at 20:06 Jack is born it passes 4 minutes of a journey!
We'd gone to pick Paul up from work a couple of nights ago and were sat in the car waiting, Jack glanced at the clock and said ' ooh it's 18:38 mum' and glanced excitedly at me 'yes Jack 18:38' I replied 'you know mum 18:38 ... When we're you born?' slightly aghast I replied 'not 1838 Jack ...19 for god sake 1974, how old do you think I am' unaffected by my answer or shock he innocently enquired ' well how about Dad?'

Living in the future.

When you get to a certain age you start to think about your parents getting old.
You worry that someone will knock on the door claiming to be a passing builder who has noticed a missing roof tile and whisk you poor unsuspecting mother off to the cashpoint and make of with her life savings.
Well this is 2012 and many of our
parents have pcs, laptops, iPads and kindles etc etc and unfortunately will fall prey to the lovely(!) phone call from Microsoft claiming to fix their firewall and stop their email from being hacked.
I think we need to educate our 'rents the way they did us with a bit of stranger danger, if you didn't ask for the call then tell to politely do one.

Tattoos

My husband said to me that he thought we'd have more art on the walls living with an artistic person.

The thing is I'm too fickle or is it indecisive I'm not sure... well it's not either really as by definition I'm not a fickle person  (I've just looked it up)

Adjective:

Changing frequently, esp. as regards one's loyalties, interests, or affection.

I'm fiercely loyal in my interests and affections.


But then I am changeable when it comes to, how can we put it...adornments. So there's the changeable bit I suppose.


When I was a child mum would get me dresses and look round ten minutes later and I'd be wearing something else, I'd also rearrange my bedroom in the middle of the night. (in fact I've just rearranged the living room!)


Which is why I could never have a tattoo I mean I'd change my mind within a week and find that it didn't go with something I was wearing.


If I did have one it would be a choice of two


1. Stars, I like them, you know nice 5 pointed ones like on the champions league ball 

2. the Birmingham City badge in fact if Blues ever got to the champions league maybe I could combine the two.

Eee I'm classy me...this is never going to happen.


Reading back through this (yes I know you're amazed I do and still miss the typos) I realised that this is probably why I've never had a proper grown up handbag.
You know a nice big expensive leather one that sits nicely on your shoulder, unlike my various canvas ones I sling across my body and then sling into the cupboard under the stairs at the end of the day.
A friend was recently bought a posh one by her boyfriend it came with a bag to keep it in!

 I HAVEN'T GOT TIME TO PUT MY BAG IN A BAG.

Which leads me back round to art, we have some pieces on the wall the usually Ikea print and some black and white prints of the kids on holidays and some of my favourite postcards and at the top of the stairs we have a large print bought for us as a wedding present, I really like it and it was bought by a good friend who I know would've thought about what he was buying but I couldn't imagine myself standing their buying it I would've gone through turmoil imagining it in different rooms and positions and what it would go with and did it go with my mood!  Which in the grand scheme of things is pretty stupid as we've since moved house and it fits in very nicely.

WHO PUTS THEIR BAG IN A BAG!

Ramblings of a mad woman or why I like Scandinavian Crime Drama

(Your lucky I didn't write this at midnight last night when I originally thought about it...)

My theory on why I (we) like Scandinavian crime drama.

Or

Why I want a Volvo, padded jacket and a wooly jumper and listen to A-Ha.

 I had this poster, it had a crease through Pål's face so Smash Hits sent me a new one.

Firstly I reckon we need to have a quick look to our past, our invaders, we can forget the Europeans, Italians or Romans I think history likes to call them as I believe they probably kept themselves to themselves, invaded and then returned leaving behind a few broken pots, straight roads and sanitation.

lights on in search of straight roads and sanitation.

Ah, but let's look east (or is it west, no hang on west is Wales) to Scandinavia and think Vikings, you know the hairy guys, I reckon they invaded, stayed and did a bit of genetic knitting... or 'raping and pillaging' as the history books like to call it.

Have I mentioned my mum is a Lund...

Well that's my theory on why we - I love Scandinavia drama it's in our blood like a child likes to hear stories from their grandparents ...
Why I secretly believe if I watch enough of The Bridge or Borgen I might actually be able to speak Danish or is it Swedish, no its Danish were they speaking both?? and why Seb Larsson was really waving to me at every home game.

 *waves back like a mad thing embarrassing children and husband*

Well these were my mad thoughts last night when I got into bed after watching Wallander and why I was wondering why I had a strange affinity with wind swept ferries and cold baron landscapes... ooh and stylish architecture ... damn I think I've missed the Ikea sale... Oh and did you ever see those Norwegian farmers on that programme ... my god they were gorgeous ...is this why I like Lego...and Hans Christian Andersen...don't start me on Dancing Queen...Do you remember that 80s programme called Annika...Even though I'm vegetarian I loved the way Peter Schmeichel said 'theres no better bacon'...I did a project on Denmark when I was 8...H&M where's that from...did mice really make the Norwegian coastline!

 any way godnat.