Bloody hell, I'm getting worse at keeping this up to date. I blame old age.
So the update:
Christmas was good – if Paul hasn’t already said so thank you all for the lovely gifts for the girls. The books, cds, ornaments, clothes and pjs were lovely and very much appreciated.
This month I started a new p/t job. It’s going grand. I like the company and the community work they do, my colleagues are lovely, the work is very basic admin though...the type I used to have juniors doing for me...but hopefully it will become more interesting down the road.
I turned 40. I’m old. It sucks.
I’ve had a back problem for almost 5 months now. Hurt it in October in a weight-lifting class at the gym and instead of letting it heal I continued to do the class until December when it became debilitating. So far it’s been fun – muscle relaxants, anti-inflammatories, a constant ice pack down my pants, a bone scan, x-rays, blood tests, cortisone injections, physio, massage and numerous dr’s appointments. And it still hurts like a sonofabitch. I can barely exercise at all. Running is definitely out and I really want to run a half-marathon this summer so I’m a very unhappy bunny.
So I’m not only old, I’m getting fat. Huzzah.
I've just recovered from the stomach flu and a poxy cold. I blame getting old.
I still knit, enthusiastically and often.
I started a writing group with a couple friends and have actually started writing short pieces and am researching a novel. Crazy stuff altogether.
Amelie continues to be a cute head-case of a child. She finds nothing funnier than head-butting and smacking in the face. You sternly tell her no and she chuckles this hilarious guttural laugh at you. She shouts in the middle of the night and you go in to her and she’s on her knees bouncing in bed and giggling. You put her down and she runs away laughing like a maniac. She’s happy, funny, slightly insane and obviously has a hidden stash of speed somewhere. She also has these mad eye looks - quite like a ventriloquist's dummy where she thinks if she looks at you sideways you can't see her.
Sophie is in great form. She continues to thrive at school...loves all things artsy crafty and ballet. She still tends to be a rather lazy child who would prefer watching TV all day (this ain’t allowed) to actually being active and yesterday I asked her if she would like to try a new sport class and she responded with a ‘what’s sport?’ Good lord child. She seemed frightened of trying footie and gymnastics so she may need a push. She is completely addicted to Abba/Mamma Mia and is constantly signing their songs. There’s nothing funnier and slightly disturbing than your 4 yr old singing “lay all your love on me” and “don’t go wasting your ‘motions”. She also does a wicked version of Money, Money, Money. I’d get her into musical theatre but unfortunately, bless her, she has inherited my singing voice. Poor child.
And finally, I killed her hair. It was down to her arse when and had never cut in the back - with her enthusiastic agreement I cut off about 4 inches. It's not half as curly now - but much more manageable. Paul, like every damn man out there, gave me the old 'but I like it long'...yeah, I didn't see him detangling it for half an hour or ever putting in the braids or even attempting to brush it.
Ok...that's all folks...
