This week could do with being rubbed out and drawn in again.

It all started on Monday morning when I awoke at the ungodly hour of 7.15 with the rain pattering against my window.  15 minutes later the “rain” sounded more like a tap, and it dawned on me that it was coming from my bathroom (next to my bedroom). On inspection, I found that there was quite a great deal of water pouring in through my ceiling.  Wonderful.  A couple of nights before my bathroom lights had gone, and I hoped it was just a coincidence that 2 bulbs went at the same time, but no, there had obviously been a leak there for a couple of days.  *sigh*  Anyway, the upshot of it meant I was knocking on my neighbour’s door at 7.15 informing her that the contents of her bathroom pipes were actually in my flat.  Luckily, it was repaired that morning, so there was no lasting damage from the water.  The electrician came about lunchtime to repair the lights, but as it was still damp around the fitting, disconnected them and should hopefully be out tomorrow to re-connect them.

The boy has also been ill this week.  He had his first ever significant temperature which scared the crap out of me, and I ended up having to medicate him, which I really hate doing.  I hate that the thought of giving his wee body drugs that may mask symptoms of something serious, but the thought of febrile convulsions (note to self: don’t google child temperatures again) over-rode my hate of infant suspensions, and I administered baby nurofen type stuff a few times, which brought his temp down a bit.

He’s certainly alot better tonight, but is still milking it for all it’s worth with a “mummy I’m not feeling well, I think I need to sleep in your bed”, which worked of course, for the 4th night running.  He just fell out of my bed around an hour ago and when I went in to pick him up and put him back together again he wasn’t hot at all, so fingers crossed the fever has passed.

Earlier in the week we went to my friend Jen’s house to see her new puppy.  It’s a teeny border collie, only 5 weeks old and just beautiful.  It was a rescued runt from a farmhouse litter, and has a few breed related problems, but my friend is such a softie she decided to save it from certain death instead of taking a “perfect” one.  Well, Callum just adores her.  He would not leave her alone, and made such a fuss over this little ball of fluff.  It was so lovely to watch.  He was carrying her around like a baby (ok, like a bag of spuds, but a very fragile bag of spuds), and taking her over to her water bowl, bringing her toys and trying to put her to bed.  My heart was melting, and as a result I’m thinking that, as lovely as our goldfish is, it’s not really up to much in the pet stakes.  I’m seriously considering a kitten.  I’m giving myself 3 months to think about it, because if I don’t I’ll have one by the weekend, such is my love of cute fluffy things.  Need. To. Be. Sensible.

I don’t think I have much more to report, No nursery yesterday due to strike action (and the award for the worst timed pay-rise related strike goes to…..), no nursery today due to ill child, and no nursery tomorrow due to Scottish September weekend.  We have my best friend’s wee boys 4th birthday party on Saturday afternoon and a christening on Sunday, so a busy weekend ahead.  Please let us have no more illness and some sunshine.

xxx

I submitted my blog to blogged.com to be reviewed, and this was my result:

Not bad for what is mostly incoherent personal ramblings and dodgy music videos.  I want to get it up to over 9, but I suspect I’ll need to update more, and as I’m terminally lazy, I doubt that’ll happen any time soon.

I have this obsession with this guy, I don’t mention it much, (mostly because the insane laughter that ensues shortly afterwards is unnerving) but I think he’s fabulous and have done for over 10 years.  So my obsession, it’s still there, and still real, still laughable….  (and I must be serious as I let the coma that is Sheryl Crow into my blog on his behalf)

Blatantly ripping off a recent post by Splodge, who posted photos of where she blogs from, I decided to do the same.  I’m insanely jealous of people who have an “area” all to themselves with all their junk important things around them.  I used to have a great little office in my old flat just for me.  My poor boyfriend had to have a desk in the corner of the bedroom while I got a great room just off the kitchen with a huge corner desk full of my treasured belongings.  Bliss.

Anyway, these days I live on my own with my little boy, and my bedroom has fitted storage which really limits space, so I can’t even have a desk in there. I could fit one in the main living room, but it would look just awful, so my desktop PC is currently residing under my bed, and I use my beloved 10 month old laptop for blogging/work/browsing. While it’s great for comfort it’s not so good for posture and prolonged sessions of work/play.  I’m normally found sitting with the laptop on a cushion on the side of the sofa.  Anyway, on to the pics!

This is where I usually sit to blog.  Note the obligatory glass of wine (only on weekends and Desperate Housewives nights!), the mobile and landline phones, and the remote controls.   There is often a pot of hummous and some pitta on the small lamp table, but I’m trying to cut down my late night eating these days.  The folder on the dining table is the only work related thing I keep in this room, it’s just some policy notes and some research stuff I like to keep handy. All my other office-type crap is kept on the floor to ceiling bookshelf built into my hall, in various ikea boxes and baskets.

This is my normal view.  Luckily I’m great at multi-tasking, so browsing/telly watching/munching things from the far too handy kitchen all at the same time holds no problem for me.  Sometimes there is a small boy and 3 billion toys in this view, but not tonight.

That’s it, not very exciting I’m afraid, but I did promise to do it!

xxx

Lots and lots of rain.

I have been rained on every single day since The Boy started nursery.  Today it absolutely poured down all the way there, and all the way back.  It’s still pouring now, and will probably still be pouring down when I have to go pick him up.  It’s doing my head in.  A complete waste of straighteners.  Callum, of course, loves it.  He jumped in every single puddle on the way there this morning, and despite wearing wellies and his raincoat, needed a complete change of clothes when we arrived at nursery, even down to his socks and pants.  Here’s hoping he doesn’t have any accidents as he has no spare change of clothes now.  I neeeeeeed a raincoat, as I’m sick of wrestling with an umbrella, a 3 year old and his paraphanelia, and my own bag every day.  I may buy this one:

Am I daft for even thinking about paying £25 for what is essentially a pac-a-mac?  Even if it makes me feel about 5 again?