An Update from the Battlefront

Well, what to tell you about first? We've had a lot going on at The Castle over the last few weeks.  The first being that Princess Mummy managed to break 2 of her fingers in a freak bus, um, carriage, accident.  That's right, a freak accident. It is very unusual, one might say freaky, for anyone to break her fingers waving her hands around on a bus, carriage, and hitting the pole that holds the bell.  Fortunately, we were due to disembark and so I pretending ringing the bell was on purpose, although the noise I made was truly inexplicable-in my defence, there were a number of Miniature Citizens of the Kingdom around and I did NOT want to sully their delicate ears with the words that originally tried to escape.

After being strapped up for a fortnight, I became somewhat frustrated with not being able to do much and removed the strapping.  FREEDOM! Unfortunately, the freedom went to my head and I decided to walk Little Prince to school. 

I was feeling truly proud of myself as I dropped Little Prince into the open arms of his teacher, then less proud as I realised I was lying in the middle of the road outside of school.  Whilst praying I did not get run over in front of the Miniatures, I tried frantically to recapture the previous few moments.  Eventually, I gave up on that, turning my attention to the more pressing issue of why Prince Daddy was lying next to me and why we seemed to have every adult in a 2 mile radius peering down at us and miming. 

It occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, the whole town had not gone mute, and maybe, Princess Mummy's hearing had packed up and left along with her dignity.  As I remembered my lost dignity, I started to clamber back up and was somewhat taken aback by the mushy sort of crunch my left foot made when put in contact with the ground. My hearing had obviously not gone far unlike my dignity which appeared to be on an extended vacation!

As the watching throng surged forward, with offers of help and lifts etc, I grabbed (the now upright) Prince Daddy's hand and started to hobble off into the sunset.  This was hampered by two major factors.  There is not much in the way of sunset at 9am in Wales and my left foot screamed out loudly using my voice every time I tried to put it to use.  After a sort of ungainly hobble home with Partner in Crime's Grown Up and Prince Daddy almost carrying me, I decided that it was perhaps time to visit the A&E and get my money's worth out of the NHS yet again.

Some time later, I swung out with a half-cast, crutches and the promise of a real cast the next day.  I also had a card from N, the Samaritan based at the hospital, tucked into my handbag.  I am amassing quite a collection of these from my A&E visits.  I guess when a woman turns up at hospital a fortnight after breaking 2 fingers with a new broken foot and bruises all up her legs and hips and a man who is not willing to leave her side, it is easy to leap to the wrong conclusion.  Poor Prince Daddy has been led away on flimsy pretexts by nurses so many times, that he must look guilty even though his conscience is clear. 

Thursday saw me return to the hospital and receive quite possibly the prettiest cast I have ever had on a broken limb (and Ive had a few!)  It was pink and when we got home, Prince Daddy pedicured my toes to match. I was a very high fashion Princess Mummy.

The cast was removed two days ago, although I have been advised to continue to use the crutches for a few weeks to come. 

On a happier note, the recent sunshine has gone to the heads of the Mummy Clan.  Yesterday was spent drawing pictures on the slabs outside the Castle with chalk.  We borrowed a token child from the neighbours so we didn't appear too odd but were delighted when he just wanted to eat his icelolly and watch us draw.  When we ran out of clean slabs and couldn't persuade Prince Daddy to clean and dry them so we could start again, we sat around and admired the beautiful business cards we have been sent by the lovely people at Vistaprint to promote the Blog.  Apparently this blog is now amassing enough of a readership to come to the notice of the Powers That Be and they are noticing us right back.  So if you enjoy reading about the dramas of life in the Castle, please feel free to share the blog address or even, if you know me personally, ask for cards to pass on to family and friends. 

And as always, comments, complaints, hints and tips are very well received and I love to hear from anyone who has enjoyed my mini rants.

xxx

So Why DOES a Giant Stand on a Box?

This week's Blog is coming to you a little late (courtesy of a mild concussion) but with a lot of love (courtesy of Little Prince). 

Little Prince has this week been trying to quantify the unquantifiable.  Namely, how much I love him.  I eventually settled for "all the way round the world and back again".   This being as much as his little brain can handle without exploding and spilling out all the knowledge he's learned so far.   In exchange, Little Prince has been trying to quantify how much he loves me.  Initially, he loved me as "big as a giant."  On production of Smarties, he loved me as "big as a giant standing on a box" and when he realised that there would be no enforced bedtime over half term, he loved me as "big as a giant standing on a box wearing a hat."  So lots and lots I think.

We've had a few power struggles in the Mummy household this week.  I must admit I've been a bit smug so far as power struggles tend to involve Prince Daddy and Little Prince while my word is law.  But this week I have been challenged on a major scale.  Little Prince has decided that HIS word overrules mine and is willing to shout/scream/whinge or cry to make this happen.  The shouts and screams have led to the "time out" step and the whinging/crying approach is suddenly of a pitch that Princess Mummy cannot hear!  Even tugging at my clothes whilst desperately trying to squeeze out at least one tear does not make Little Prince any more audible.

Princess Mummy had a complete brain fade earlier this week and took Little Prince and Little Prince's Partner in Crime to a local play barn.  Having Prince Daddy as backup made me all giddy, and I heard myself also inviting Partner in Crime's Little Bro.  Although herding pigeons would have been easier than rounding up 3 excited small boys and one overexcited Daddy and shepherding them all onto a bus, the day was, all in all, a resounding success.  On arrival, we realised that, coincidentally, all the children were dressed the same - yellow and grey made them stand out a treat!  The kids ran riot all afternoon and before long, Prince Daddy was doing his Pied Piper impression and leading scores of midgets up, down and all around the equipment-the main reason, I believe, that we weren't chased out 2 hours after arriving like the other families!

The bus ride into town was a riotous affair, with everyone excited and playing "I spy" although due to the age of our teams, I spied with my little eye, something the COLOUR of.....  Despite at least one of the players making up colours then choosing what he spied based on the suggestions offered, (pink sheep anyone?) the game was great fun and we had other passengers on the bus trying their luck at guessing.

The journey home was an all round more sedate event.  As we settled in, Prince Daddy and I furnished each of our charges with a Fruit Shoot and a tube of Smarties.  Which we promptly collected back in as each child fell asleep. 

A short walk home from the bus stop, pausing to drop off Partner in Crime and Little Bro, and we were all ready for our beds.  None of us believed the clocks as they tried to tell us it was only three o'clock!!!

Party Prince

There was no Blog Post last week as we were hosting Little Prince's Birthday Bash, but this week you can share a blow-by-blow account with us. 

Saturday morning started at 5 am - yes, five AM!!! -  with Little Prince bounding into the royal boudoir shouting "Mummy!!! It's morning and it's my birthday party and I've been 5 nearly a whole week and its my birthday party and get up Mummy!" 

With a wake-up like that it's mighty hard to get back to sleep but Princess Mummy is no novice sleeper.  Unfortunately, Little Prince is no novice waker-upper and made off with the duvet whilst emitting a battlecry any warrior would be proud of!  Thinking of our already long-suffering neighbours, Princess Mummy shot out of bed, wrestled Little Prince into dressing gown and slippers and proceeded to do her waking up whilst inhaling the vapours from the coffee maker.

50 jellies in assorted flavours later, and I was in a position to respond to the non-stop beeping of the Coven-Caller (as Prince Daddy refers to Princess Mummy's mobile phone)  As I read the texts, I wished I had read them before the grand high jelly production line.  12 of our prospective guests were cancelling - and no two had the same excuse.  I was a little annoyed, as some of the reasons were things that the parents had clearly known in advance - and one honest parent texted to say that their offspring had been invited to another party, and would prefer to go to that one! 

The worry pendulum shifting from too many guests to not enough guests, Princess Mummy began preparing Little Prince for a very lightly populated party.  He looked very serious as I explained that a bug had been going round school and some children might be too poorly to come.  As I started to feel guilty, Little Prince thought for a moment then asked "If people are too poorly to come to my party, will people still sing Happy Birthday?" I assured him that singing was guaranteed when he asked if he could have all the extra cakes and sweets if nobody came!

After all our concerns, the party was very well attended and great fun was had by all involved.  25 children came (18 of the invited plus some siblings). My worrries over food were unfounded as almost EVERYTHING was eaten! Jam sandwiches went down a treat and we returned home with 2 of the 50 jellies which we used to bribe the taxi driver to ignore the fact that Little Prince was bouncing around like a marble in a bottle!

We eventually bounced Little Prince up the stairs, into the bath and finally into bed around 7pm when Prince Daddy retired to the boudoir in preparation for the night shift ahead of him.  Meanwhile, I cleaned toothpaste off every surface, mopped the tsunami from the bathroom floor, then sat down with a big mug of tea and wrote Little Prince's thankyou letters.  After consideration it was decided that Little Prince could have an amnesty this year but from next he will be writing his own - leaving Princess Mummy more time to write blog posts such as this!

Tears and Tantrums-Fabulous Dahling!

Tonight's blog is taking twice as long to type as usual thanks to my manicure from Pui at Lush.  Having turned the big 3-0 earlier this month, I decided that "Princess" wasn't just a title, but a title I wanted to live up to.  And so I decided to realise a lifelong dream.  Acrylic nails were first on the list.  Followed quickly by semi-permanent mascara.  I booked in for the acrylics and was so delighted with the results that I immediately booked the eyelash tint.  As I plucked my eyebrows that evening, I was suddenly aware that the single white hair I had been plucking for months was back. With friends.  And appeared to be colonising the other eyebrow too!  A call to Pui confirmed that I could have my eyebrows tinted and shaped and so that's gone on the list of "things to do to not frighten the neighbours".  Being middle aged is hard work.  And my confidence was NOT boosted by Little Prince's observation that Princess Mummy without a bra is funny because her boobies go "wiggley waggley"!

Tomorrow is Little Prince's birthday.  5 going on 50.  And a party has been planned for Saturday.  The biggest - and rookie - mistake in my planning was telling Little Prince that he was having a party.  There's no excusing it.  I knew better.  And yet, there I found myself saying "So who are we inviting to your birthday party this year?"

In my defence, my mind was screaming at my mouth to stop moving, but sadly, too little too late.  So the upshot is that we invited 45 kids to the party, thinking that we would have a refusal rate of at least 50%.  Which we could cater for comfortably (with the help of the local sports centre).  Again with the rookie mistakes.  We've had 40 acceptances.  Even bearing in mind that a lot of kids wont show up (rude!) we still have to provide enough food for 40.  As well as party bags.  Which leads us neatly to my tanty in the aisles of Tesco. 

Working out how to fill 40 party bags for less than the GDP of a small country, while still doing Little Prince proud is quite a mission. Having found 3 small toys and 2 types of (individually wrapped) sweets, I was starting to feel deeply tense.  So when Little Prince started to nag about needing a birthday cake, Princess Mummy was not as sympathetic in saying no as she could be.  6 aisles and much nagging later, Princess Mummy stopped the trolley, folded her arms, stamped her feet and announced that "if I hear one more word about the party I will eat all the sweets, play with all the toys and cancel the party!"  As I looked to Prince Daddy for support, I realised the traitor had scuttled off to another aisle, leaving Little Prince, still sitting in the trolley, to bear the brunt of the shame.  And yes, we are STILL hearing about his party!

When you're ready to strangle an imaginary friend

So it's been a year since we last talked... Updates first.  Little Prince now attends school full time and has a best friend, otherwise known as a Partner in Crime.  Prince Daddy now works nights at a supermarket less than 10 minutes walk from the Castle. (and so is home for lots more time)  Princess Pussy Cat has been replaced by Prince Pussy Cat.   And finally, we adopted Prince Poochy who was a very cute bundle of fluff when he arrived, and has now grown into a very cute bundle of fluff with big teeth, a fear of the dark and the urge to defend the Castle from marauding tissues.  (Anything fiercer than a tissue and we're on our own)

Today we were introduced to the latest member of the Mummy Family.  Little Prince now has an Imaginary Friend.  Little Prince had stayed at Queen Mummy's Castle last night, and we went for the family dinner this evening. After dinner, Little Prince went to the living room, and appeared to have quite a long conversation alone. He then came out and introduced his Imaginary Friend to Prince Daddy, then to me. 

Imaginary Friend and Little Prince hold hands a lot and whisper together, although Imaginary Friend doesn't appear to have an audible voice.  Imaginary Friend was also the reason that Little Prince  would not go to sleep tonight as he kept talking to Little Prince  and wanted Little Prince  to get out of bed and play with the Lego, which, coincidentally enough, Little Prince  wanted to do before bed anyway.  Prince Daddy made it very clear that whether it was Little Prince  or Imaginary Friend's idea, Little Prince  should not act on it unless Little Prince wanted to be punished. 

When he came down, we Googled the whole imaginary friend situation and have found that as long as Little Prince does not neglect his real, live friends in favour of Imaginary Friend, we shouldn't worry.  As far as Imaginary Friend being the brains of the outfit and Little Prince doing things goes, Imaginary Friend should be held to the same standards of behaviour as Little Prince .  In fact, according to Dr Kutner:

"Imaginary companions are an integral part of many children's lives. They provide comfort in times of stress, companionship when they're lonely, someone to boss around when they feel powerless, and someone to blame for the broken lamp in the living room. Most important, an imaginary companion is a tool young children use to help them make sense of the adult world."

I'm seriously considering getting an imaginary friend of my own.  Someone to blame for the chocolate binges and "hoovering amnesia",  someone whom I can boss around without being told to "chill my boots" and someone to talk to a la Shirley Valentine.  And of course, someone who can make the grown up world make sense would be worth their imaginary weight in (not so imaginary) chocolate.

The Prodigal Blogger Returns

It has been some time since I last blogged.  Over a year in fact.  It has taken this long for me to lick my wounds and get back in the saddle after the betrayal I felt after a local newspaper copied and pasted entire tracts from this blog and attributed them to me, by name, as "quotes" issued to them directly.  To whoever did this, I obviously don't use real names or places in order to give, at least an illusion of privacy.  Although many readers do know me, I do feel that I should at least be consulted before being "outed".

Having got that that out of my system, I am now ready to resume blogging and to give my readers a commitment that I will regularly update this blog, filling everyone in on the exploits of Little Prince et al.