Boxes, books and a serious case of Lady Flu.

I’m having one of those nights where I’ve started a post and deleted it about half a dozen times. The words just aren’t flowing, maybe because I’ve had a stinky old head cold and a stomach bug this weekend. I’ve got a hot toddy to get me through X Factor, then it’s two Night Nurse and off to bed. I know I posted a few months ago saying that mummies aren’t allowed to get ill, but occasionally even we have to admit defeat.

I think the cold might be a London one – I was down earlier in the week having a look round some areas – nine hours up and down the East Coast main line and several hours on the tube probably exposed me to numerous foreign nasties. So there’s a lesson; get the whole family dosed up on Echinacea and Vitamin C before we move!

Snuffles aside, it has been a productive week. After four years of marriage (almost exactly – it’s our anniversary this week!), I’ve finally sent my wedding dress to be cleaned. In preparation for the move I’ve offloaded a few bits and pieces of superfluous stuff onto friends. Mainly, it was a good excuse to catch up with some lovely folk that I’ve not seen in a while, but it has also helped free up some cupboard space. I hope our shredder, coffee machine, and Moses Basket are enjoying life in their new homes. All the clothes and toys that DorkySon has outgrown are boxed up and ready to go to another friend, assuming she doesn’t go into labour before she can come and collect them. So far, the great wardrobe clear out has yielded three big bags of clothes which are now waiting to be taken to the charity shop (it may turn into four bags… I’ve got some dresses that I know I’ll never fit into again, but can’t quite bear to part with yet).

Next come the books. I am rubbish at getting rid of books. I know I’ll never sit down and re-read any of the tomes on body art that I needed for my honours dissertation, or the book about David Jason swimming with dolphins, which mysteriously appeared on my shelves. We probably don’t need three copies of the Catcher in the Rye, or two copies of every Harry Potter book. I can tell you right now that I will never get beyond page 20 of Ulysses. But still… I find books impossible to get rid of. They are the only things I can spend vast amounts of money on without even a tinge of guilt. I was lucky enough to grow up in a house where books could be found everywhere, and had always envisaged bringing DorkySon up in a place where he too would find interesting books in every corner and cupboard.

If we end up moving somewhere with limited storage space, and it comes down to a choice between the dresses and the books, I know already that the books will win.

But anyway, before I succumb to my lady-flu and disappear under the duvet, let me remind myself of the many other things that were good this week:

1. We had another flat viewing today, with a relatively normal prospective buyer (I can’t wait until we’ve sold, so I can blog about some of the bonkers folk we’ve had in previously…).

2. DorkySon is slowly getting to grips with his new scooter, and when he’s not busy doing that he’s dazzling us with his ever-expanding repertoire of songs. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Traffic Light’ seems to be the current favourite.

3. I had a grand old time wandering around London and scouting out some possible areas to live, although somewhat predictably I fell in love with the two most expensive areas on our list. Fingers crossed we can find a suitable flat in the next six weeks, with room for plenty of books. Did I mention the books?

4. My tiny-violin nostalgia piece about moving was featured on Offbeat Home.

5. I’ve got 97 Fans on my DorkyMum Facebook Page! Which is nearly 100… Which would be marvellous. If I can get to 100 by Monday morning it might, just, compensate for the awfulness of the new Facebook layout.

Hope you all have a ruddy marvellous week. If you don’t want to come back here for more paracetamol-powered ramblings I completely understand. I am hopeful that normal service will resume soon. Meantime check out Letters from Your Mum, DoodleMum and Mental Political Parent for some other interesting and often amusing takes on parenting. And check out the excellent Love New Blogs tomorrow morning for their weekly showcase of newer blogs.

Okay. Night night all. I’m done.

Mummies Can’t Get Sick

white mug, glasses and box of tissues on a bedside table, implying sickness

This was originally published as a guest post on the excellent parenting blog Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy? Thank you to Laura for giving me the opportunity to borrow her readers for the day! 

The DorkyBoys are sick. It is truly a pathetic sight.

DorkySon has created a little triangle of activity to make sure everyone can see how sick he is. First he stands in a corner of the room, swaying slightly and sucking his thumb. Then he walks slowly round my desk, trailing his hippo lovey along the floor behind him and occasionally fixing me with a somewhat baleful look. Finally he comes over, puts his head in my lap and sighs. I rub his hair, give him a sip of juice, and send him on his way to start the whole routine again.

DorkyDad isn’t a whole lot better. “Can I have a lemon tea?’ he croaks at me from the sofa. “Can I have a painkiller?” he whimpers. “Do you think I’ll be well enough to play golf tomorrow?” he asks, sticking his bottom lip out slightly. “Why don’t you Google ‘head cold and golf’ for me…?” Continue reading