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Mary Catherine woke up at 4:45 this morning insisting that there was a dog under the chair in her room. A big, black dog that apparently barks a lot. She said his name was 'Doggy'. Thinking it would solve the problem, I got up with her and we went and turned on the light to see that the dog wasn't really there. However, she bent over and said, 'see Mummy, it's right there.'
She then proceeded to tell me about this dog that scared her until an hour later when she finally fell asleep in our bed. You know, an hour later at 5:45, right about the time I get up.
When we woke up, she was still talking and very convinced about the dog. We called my mom in America and she told her all about it as well. We've decided that our mean cat, Fwed, will probably chase the dog out of the house while we're gone today.
Imagination is an amazingly powerful thing - I have no doubt that she about 70% really thinks there is a dog in her room. Later this morning she told me that it bit her. I think that porky is more a result of me 'believing' her about the dog.
As far as I know, she's never met a mean dog or even seen one that would lend itself to this flight of fancy. I think what really happened was a rare occurance of a leaky pull-up and a wet bed woke her up and the dark just got to her. I think Andrew's snores could sound like a dog barking, as well!
We'll see what happens with 'Doggy' this evening..
the interview passeth..
The interview on Friday went well. There wasn't that much to it, really. We met with the Head Teacher and she spoke to Mary Catherine and us while Mary Catherine did a jigsaw puzzle. No big whoop.
We are number three on the waiting list for September of this year. Hopefully between now and then three families will decide not to send their daughter to the school and we'll be in. While I sort of feel it's a bit of a long shot - this is a pretty transient community with all the big businesses in the area. The Head Teacher (that's Principal to we Americans) said that it's very common that people decide to have another child and not send their daughters. So, we shall see.
In the post last week we received a letter from the other school we are considering. This one is a Montessori school, but only up to but not including Reception (translation: kindergarten). That school is right here where I work, so very convienent and we have been offered a place. However, we've decided to let that place go (exactly what we're hoping people will do at our No. 1 choice). The deposit is huge and we weren't expecting a demand for £950 due in two weeks. Also, we have a friend who has a child there. I think he and his parents are happy with the school, but there are 42 children in his class and I am just not comfortable with that many, no matter how many teachers and assistants there are. That's a lot of people for one space.
I hope we're not shooting ourselves in the foot - but my gut tells me to let it go. Oh, and my bank account said that too.
Worst case, we get a nanny (how Poppins-esque of us) and Mary Catherine could go to our first choice half day, where there are spaces available.
Sometimes I am not comfortable with how much of an adult I have become. I mean, this is schooling, these are big, important decisions! It just pains me to think of making the wrong choice.
the interview loometh..
Today we have our interview at our Number One School Of Choice. I'm quite tense about it from the aspect of not knowing what to expect. At the same time, I'm calm enough to know that we are who we are and people, not just schools but everyone, has to take us as they find us.
Mary Catherine is at 'Wharf School' close to my office. One of the quirks of that nursery is that you have to pack a bag for your child including a change of clothes and their lunch. They feed them tea, but lunch is up to you to provide. I believe this is due to minimal food preperation facilities. They provide tea because by tea time, there are fewer children there to feed.
This morning, I got up - I gathered Mary Catherine's 'interview outfit' and her spare interview 'not quite as cute, but acceptable' outfit. I went to the kitchen to prepare her lunch. I lovingly sliced carrots into batons, packaged macaroni and cheese (called cheesey paco in our house, don't ask me why) into a child friendly to-go bowl with lid. I got out a special Scooby Doo napkin so I could be like my mother who always wrote a note on my napkin when I was a child. I don't write notes (yet) but I do always try and send a fun napkin that in my own way lets me hope that she knows I'm thinking about her during the day. I went through the cupboard on a desperate search for applesauce, only to find four packets of it that should've been thrown away in july. I settled for a package of raisins.
All of which I placed in her new Cath Kidston bag that matches her bath towels and sleeping bag. I hung said bag on the doorknob of the kitchen, congratulating myself as I walked back to my room to get ready on how organised and calm I was.
Got to Wharf School this morning to realise that I'd left the damn thing at home. Nice one. The lovely Manager took pity on me and agreed to feed her something for lunch. Whew.
So - not a particularly stellar start to the day, despite best laid plans. Our interview is at 13:30 - so do think good thoughts.
I've now oficially received my invitation to attend my British Citizenship ceremony. They send you an invitation and you have to liaise with your local Citizenship Ceremony Officer to schedule your ceremony. I'm totally cool with doing that, but I can't seem to get the silly Citizenship Ceremony Officer to anwer his/her phone. Doesn't he/she know that I have to have my ceremony within 90 days of receipt of my invitation? Doesn't he/she care that the invitation states that I have a mere 14 days to schedule said ceremoney? My future allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second rests in this person's hands. Nice.
With the invitation, there's a page of guidance notes. These include information on how many guests I can have with me (two, for the record) and whether I want to swear my allegiance or affirm it. Apparently, if I want to swear it, then I will be doing it before Almighty God and am allowed to bring a holy book if I desire. I wonder if God has to deal with the Citizenship Officer to get an appointment as well*?
On another note, I've just been looking at my diary (that's what we British Citizens call a calendar) and I note that we're going to have three, yes, count 'em, three sets of visitors this year! (parents not included because they're regular visitors) First we have Whitney and Bryan in February, then Kristen and Steve in March and then Nancy in August. I don't get many visitors from 'back home' so these visits will all be really fantastic!
*not intended to be ugly to God, honest.
file under nerdy wordy doo dah.
For some reason, it's new computer central around our house. Right before we left for Christmas, we got a new 17" iMac. It's not the latest Intel version, but the newer one before that - so it has a built in iSight camera which has fast become Mary Catherine and my favourite part. There's a new application called PhotoBooth where using the screen as a flash (a little blinding but fun) you can take photos of yourself with many different effects.
Mary Catherine and I played with that for almost an hour the other day - she likes the ones where it swirls your face around and makes you look quite deformed. I guess it's this generation's version of the wacky mirrors at a fun house. To the right is one of the more tame photos we took.
So it's Wednesday - I swear to you I live my life by what day it is. I spend a good deal of time telling myself (and you apparently) what day it is! Am I the only person who does that? I wake up and think about what day it is then I go to work where I think about what day it is, calculating what needs to be done by when and by whom. Then at night I think about what day it is so I know what's on the telly. Have mercy - that's a lot of day thinking.
I'm also wonky because I insist that the week starts on Monday (hey, I was in radio, sue me) while Andrew says it starts on Sunday. Am I a total freak for that one? I even have to change my calendar at work to make weeks start on Monday and I won't buy a calendar that has Sunday as the first day - drives me nutso.
Am I the only one who thinks like that? Monday to Friday = week. Saturday and Sunday = weekend. Right?
It is very, very cold in London this week. I think I saw a penguin on the train this morning. Okay, that's a hokey thing to say, I'll just leave it at it's really, really cold. We had a good weekend with Andrew's sister, Sarah and her lovely husband-to-be-someday-if they'd-just-get-their-act-together-soon-please-because-the-waiting-is-killing-us Gareth.. They came down from Leeds and we had a fabulously relaxing time. Sunday afternoon we attacked our house and got some chores done that really needed doing. We also rearranged our bedroom - for the better I think. Work is still stressful, but so far in a good way. I feel very valued but some changes may be on the horizon and I doubt I'll have much say in them. That's the feeling I get, anyway. I very much could be wrong. Is it bad that it's only Tuesday and I'm already thinking about the weekend?
Today we went for Mary Catherine's three year-old developmental check. It was held at a local nursery school and run by three of the community health visitors. It lasted about two hours, during which time the health visitors observed the children playing and asked me several questions about Mary Catherine. I'm glad we went, so we have it out of the way and our page filled in our 'red book' that you're given when they're born and in which they record all jabs/shots and check ups.
As an American, I used to get freaked out about childrens' health care in this country. Children do not see a pediatrician on a regular basis like they do in the States. You see your family GP if there's a problem and for immunisations. Otherwise, you don't see anyone. This three year check was the first checkup Mary Catherine has had since she was a year old. I'm used to it now, but it used to make me feel weird.
Yesterday, Mary Catherine told me that her friend Charlie at school was 'a mean boy' and that grew to 'the meanest boy in the world' which just made me laugh and laugh. MC loves Charlie, but she was cross with him because he blew a raspberry at her. She said, 'I tell you Mommy, Charlie is the meanest boy and Isabelle wants to marry me...' Well, we've always liked Isabelle, so I told her that we'd be okay with that. I figure it's never too early to encourage tolerance of other lifestyles.
I had the afternoon off today as we had the check up. Mary Catherine and I went to the shops and had a very good time. We're currently waiting for Andrew to get home so we can watch him eat one of the cakes we made today. He'll avoid Mary Catherine's if he's wise - she licked the icing spoon after every smear!
works gone all wonky again - can't really talk about it, of course. but today was one of the most stressful days i've had in a very very very long time. holy moly pudding pie.
hair. out. silently. pulling.
okay - how long do I give this before I hit a blind panic? We had a pet sitter (who we've used once before without incident) while we were away in December. We've been back a week as of tomorrow and she's yet to call me to hand back my keys. Uh - yeah. I'm about 70% freaked out and 30% sure that there's a logical reason and that all is well, yet misunderstood.
Any advice? Having the locks changed isn't as easy as it seems, if you're going to offer that. I'm wondering more along the lines of - do I call the police?
to clarify..
If you've read the comments on my post below - you'll note a few people referring to me being posh now that I'll be a British citizen. Lemme explain.
One day I asked Mary Catherine if she was posh and she said yes. When I asked her if I was she said, 'no!' When I pushed her to tell me just why exactly I wasn't posh (how rude!) she told me it was, 'because you're American.' (how funny!) Her reason that she and Daddy were posh - you guessed it - 'because we're British.' And so an inside joke was born.
For those who wonder if I'll stop being American, no - I will be both American and British for you can only give up being an American citizenship if you renounce it. So please, rest assured that I will still sing Yankee Doodle every now and again and reap the multitude of perks that come to me by birthright. I use perks loosely, because the only thing I can think of is that I still have to file US taxes even though I live in the UK and pay whopping amounts of tax here. Doesn't feel too 'erk-like!'
"Thank you for submitting the enclosed documents in support of your application for British citizenship... I am pleased to say that the application has been successful and you will shortly receive a letter inviting you to attend a citizenship ceremony. When you attend a ceremony, you will be presented with a certificate of British citizenship."
The wait time was listed at six months - my application only took two. I'm exited, soon I'll be able to vote and go through the fast line at the airport!
File it under cranky.
You know what I hate.. erm, I mean, dislike very strongly? I dislike people who get on the train and lean their entire bodies on the pole I want to hold on to. Today, this woman (let's call her Anna Annoying) was reading her paper, fair enough to her, got on and leaned on the pole from shoulder to knee. Fabulous for her that she could continue to read with two hands, but crappy for me who had no access to the pole. You know, the one that keeps you from falling when the train is moving?
People do that all the time and I get so very, very cranky at how selfish and insensitive people seem to be. Maybe I'm just a freak magnet, or is it true that the majority of people do not care about the people and world around them? A giant assumption to make based on one silly woman on a DLR train, but more and more I see people too concerned with looking out for themselves and not other people.
I did enjoy it, maybe a bit too much, when Anna Annoying took a bit of a tumble when the train lurched and her shoulder slipped from the pole. I managed to get a hand in there before she could press herself back up against it and you wouldn't believe the look she shot me. Whatever.
It's Friday today - oh thank goodness.
Andrew just rang from the car. In the middle of our conversation he told me that Mary Catherine has a new favourite song (madonna's 'hung up' was a favourite for quite some time). Apparently, her new favourite tune is 'Lucy in the Sky with Dimonds' - she even sung the chorus for me. How funny!
On a totally unrelated note - in my new desk position at work, there is a low filing cabinet in front of me. People place random food/snacks/sweets on there constantly. No big whoop, hey, I'm all for free food. What bothers me is that people constantly ask me if I mind if they have some! Like, I'm the provider of the goods. Drives me nuts!
ahh.. back in the saddle here at work. fortunately, i logged on every now and again while i was away - so my morning hasn't been a major nightmare. i am finding it hard to concentrate, though. i suppose it's to be expected.
after a very bumpy flight (they turned on the seatbelt sign in nova scotia and never turned it off again) where we weren't served our 'light breakfast' due to turbulance and wanting to keep their staff safe (now, i'm all for safety, but they did manage to serve business class their breakfast - so i guess business class passengers' happiness is worth the risk?).... we're finally back in the UK.
bone tired and wondering where to put all the things we bought/were graciously given/borrowed ... the good thing is that this apartment really felt like home when we got back, which is a nice feeling. i always feel strange coming back after two weeks away - sort of like i expect time to stand still here while i'm gone. i hate that my day to day environment marched on without me.
anyway - more later or tomorrow. my brand new aluminum beauty is quickly running outta juice.
One more day until we head back to the UK. Usually we come the week before Christmas and return just after New Year's Day. This year, we came a week later and have stayed a week later. I feel like we've been gone forever! Very interesting, the difference it's made coming after the Christmas rush. I also feel like we didn't really have Christmas, just because we had a nine hour flight to begin our Christmas day.
So we leave tomorrow. I'm having mixed emotions, really. Last night I dreamed that my computer at work had been totally messed up. I guess if I've started dreaming about work then my mind sort of knows it's time to go. Then again, maybe I just ate something funky last night!
I have friends from college coming over for lunch this afternoon. I haven't seen them in ten years - amazing how time flies!
Must run, I'm having a hard time convincing my child to bathe. She's such a THREEnager!
Today I had one of those moments that was so strange but amusing, that if I don't write it down I'll forget to tell her future husband. Mary Catherine was having a potty break. Here at my parents' house, the toilets are more elongated than ours in England. She was sitting, doing her business by herself. I went in to check on her and noticed that she was looking down into the bowl while rocking back and forth. I asked her what she was doing and she said, 'I can see my bottom and I'm watching it open and close!'
She also asked me why the sky was blue and who God is today. Man, how exhausting!
So I've been looking, and looking and looking for a bag for my aluminum lovechild. I've researched on the internets for countless hours trying to decide what style of bag I want/need. So far, I know that I need a durable bag that I can haul hither and yon. However, I also know that I do not want a faceless, horrid bog-standard laptop bag. What's a girl to do?
Finally, I found a really cool site that features stylish bags (apparently there's quite a market for 'laptop bags for women') - have a look at Kolobags.com. I then ran across some pretty incredible sleeves for Powerbooks.. Nothing that would protect it from being dropped, run over by a car, rain or an act of God (I think I'm going to get a Crumpler for that). But that would definitely ward off fingerprints, scratches, spills, etc. Then I found Foofbags. How fantastic are those? I mean - they're right up my alley.. very weird looking and so functional.
It then dawned on me that A.) I'm at home with my parents and B.) One of my parents is my mother and C.) My mother can sew. Hmmm, I thought... This afternoon, we trekked to the home of everything lurid yet fantastic where I found some fabrics that are SO destined to be my new Powerbook sleeve.
Mom and I are making it tonight, I'll let you know how it goes. Think pink, fluffy with electric green velvet - reversible, even! Oh just imagine it! I think this is how Mom and I are going to make our millions. We shall see - I am SO stoked!
Happy New Year! Or, as Mary Catherine says, 'Happy New Ear!'
My gastric flu is all gone now - and it seems that no one else has gotten it. whew! We spent our new year's eve in mild style - I think I was the only one who managed to stay awake until midnight. Sure, the others were awakened by moi at five minutes 'til, but I'm the only one who stood watch. No big whoop. I only did it because evenings are the only time I get to commune with the coolness that is my new Powerbook.
Nothing else to report, really. Normally, we come the week before Christmas and are about to leave around this time of year. However, since we came a week later, we're staying a week later. So we have another week to go! That seems amazing. I'm certainly not ready to go yet. No way, no how.
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