Not Interesting Enough To Warrant a Title.

Had a nice day with The Baby today, despite the fact that she still/again has a cold and is covered in snot. Note to self - do not wear black tops when your child has a cold and is likely to wipe her face all over you every 10 minutes. I also ended up having to change my trousers today, as The Baby decided to spill my latte all over me, and the floor of Debenhams cafe. Not just any latte, but a still quite hot latte with a ridiculous amount of caramel syrup in it. Lovely. My friend's baby decided to follow suit and knock his mam's juice over too. I don't think the staff were best pleased with us.

Had some retail therapy to get over the fact that David Cameron is actually in charge of the country. I am losing the will to be a politics bore now, I have decided just to give them all the benefit of the doubt, see what happens, and hope that the arts don't get too shafted. And root for David Miliband, who I am developing an odd little crush on. Bless him and his wonky little face.

And I finally found a food The Baby won't eat! Tried to give her asparagus today, with absoutely no success at all. I'm almost relieved to discover she doesn't like everything in the whole world! Shopping lists, however, are still a firm favourite. Oops.

If You Are What You Eat...

..The Baby is a mountain. A big mountain of food. Doesn't matter what type of food. Any food will do. Here are various food-related things from the last few days.

• We were at a barbecue the other day, and The Baby ate, among other things, rice cakes, some carrot, some cheese slices, some Milky Bar buttons, and a HUUUGE burger. It was massive. And she just shoved it in her face with great glee, while I tried very hard not to think about the salt content.
• We are off bottles! Woop. Lots of parents struggle with this, while we did not even have a tiny tantrum. I'm not sure she noticed to be honest. As long as the milk is coming, she doesn't care how it comes. Ditto for how it tastes. Tried her with cow's milk, straight from the fridge - again, guzzled. I love that she's being cooperative, but also a tiny bit sad that she's not my teeny baby anymore.
• This child has no table manners. Now, I realise that 10-month-old babies are not exactly renowned for their grace and ettiquette, but do all babies eat their expensive, organic fish pie by sucking it straight from the pouch? So uncouth.
• I have spent all this afternoon making biscuits, after realising that spending £2.15 on 10 biscuits, just because they have no additives and are made of spelt, is ridiculous. Unfortunately, as you may have gathered from the other week's green cake debacle, baking is not my strong point. This is mainly because I don't like to be told what to do when it comes to food (or most things, in fact), which is fine when you're making a stew, but not so much when making biscuits. So after replacing golden syrup with apple puree, leaving the ground ginger in the shop, and using not enough sugar and too much flour, I have ended up with a boxful of things that are not quite cakes, and not quite biscuits. Ciscuits, perhaps. Still, I'm sure The Baby will eat them. They are made of food.
  

Sorry!

Being lame and keep forgetting to post. I'm blaming tiredness - I'm still not entirely caught up on my sleep after election night, mainly due to my slumber being interrupted by random thungs like my sister phoning to ask me if I think she has DVT ( you're 250 miles away, I don't know, go to the hospital), and Husband managing to set his alarm for midnight instead of 5.45 am. I have some minor victories to report (for once) and only a tiny amount of Bad stuff, which I will do later, when The Baby is not trying to press all the buttons on the laptop or play with my mug, as she is doing right now...

Flagging!

This blog post is the cyber-equivalent of propping my eyelids open with matchsticks. I really wanted to stay awake and watch the election. But I'm seriously flagging already and it's only 1am. Most of the results are coming late due to high turnout. BBC coverage is not funny, Channel 4 is not timely enough. I don't have any crisps. Conservative have just taken their first seat from Labour. Am getting bored of the word "swing". Pretty sure I will fall asleep soon. And who can say what the country will be like when I wake up? (Probably exactly the same, just going for a bit of melodrama.)

Pampers. Full of ....

Dear Customer
We are always striving for improvement, or failing that, to spend less money. So, in order to make your nappies better, we have made them worse. We have made them smell really weird, so you will be constantly sniffing your baby's bum, wondering if she has done a poo. We have taken away the stuff that, you know, keeps them dry, at the back. This is to improve the fit. OK, they may leak everywhere, but at least your baby will be happy with the answer to "Does my bum look big in this?".
The new version of these nappies will be trialled in selected packs, which will be completely indistinguishable from the old ones when buying them. There will be a small card in the box asking for your opinion on these changes, which you won't read, but that's ok, because we don't really care about your opinion anyway. And, it goes without saying, we're still going to charge you a fortune.

Maybe Tomorrow..

I will post something. I am planning to be up all night anyway watching the election. Bit of swingometer action. Can't beat it. Although I do like the idea that bloke off Channel 4 said about demonstrating the swing by having big robots fighting instead. That would be cool.

Sorry, being rambly. Tired after another mini week at work, which incorporated a few fails, including missing two buses home, breaking my camera (although this didn't actually happen at work), the whole network going down for two hours (not a fail on my part, but still a fail) and making some terrible cups of tea. And I missed The Baby lots. Not sure if that's a fail, as it's not a good feeling particularly, or a win, as it proves I'm not heartless.

Anyway, as you can see, I am being incoherent and tedious. More tomorrow as I get simultaneously over-excited about the election and depressed about the prospect of Dave Giant Iggle Piggle Face as PM.

Clean Clean Clean Clean Clean

Yessssss-ah! My house is finally clean. It has taken me all day (hampered at times by The Baby's sudden transformations into a very noisy limpet), but the house has been blitzed from top to bottom. It looks good. It might even look the best it ever has, but I would still stop short of saying it is immaculate. Immaculate I cannot do. I may have mentioned this before, but I have friends who, despite having jobs, babies, and often a pet and/or demanding or lazy husband to run around after, still manage to have houses that are show-home perfect. To these women, I must ask this question: WHERE IS ALL YOUR STUFF???? Where is the electricity bill that came the other day, but you think they've overestimated it, but need to read the meter? Where is the birthday present that you bought but have not yet given to your brother-in-law? Where is the button that fell off your cardigan yesterday? Where are the 7 boxes of dishwasher tablets you bought because they were on offer, without realising you don't have space in your cupboards for them?
Now I know everyone has a bit of a tidy when people come round, but I often have the sneaking suspicion that even at their worst, their clutter levels would barely reach a 7, to my 486. I think that what actually might be happening is that some people, unlike me, are blessed with the ability to deal with things straight away, put things back where they find them, and not buy things when they don't have the faintest clue where they will go. But I would dearly love to find out that other people do have all this stuff, and it's all straining against the door of the cupboard under the stairs.