C.O.F.F.E.E - is SO for me!

So how's the caffeine free lifestyle going? (the one that I had to adopt because my children dared me to do so when they decided to give up TV for Lent) you all asked. Ha Ha! I said, the boys will last 30 minutes without TV so I won't need to find out.

Reader, I was wrong. They didn't last 30 minutes before they cracked and turned on the TV. They lasted TWO WEEKS. Two whole long caffeine free weeks. Two weeks with not a cup of tea or coffee. That is 14 days. Without a tea. Or a coffee. May I just say that that is a very long time indeed to be without an iconic cultural institution.

Defying all predictions, the boys did all sorts of stuff instead of watching TV. We played a lot of scrabble until Luke put down (with just the tiniest bit of help) QUEEN with the Q on a triple letter score and then Adam didn't want to play scrabble any more. We did a lot of drawing and Hamma beads and it was actually surprisingly pleasant - although dinner never quite got made properly and I didn't hear a single word of PM and am correspondingly short of information about any form of news.

I thought I coped remarkably well. I had a headache for 4 days during the scrabble marathon. I found that hot water with a slice of ginger is really quite OK as a substitute. I probably slept better and bounced out of bed more easily.

BUT, I drank a LOT more wine and ate a LOT more chocolate. Turns out I need some fun in my life.

The boys cracked first and I swiftly followed with the best cup of tea in my entire life. I'd forgotten what tea tastes like. Just lovely. Nothing like a good cuppa.

I've been reminded of a little song we used to sing as children which is more than apt for me

C-O-F-F-E-E, Coffee is not for me,
It's a drink some people wake up with
that it makes you nervous is no myth
They can't give coffee up!

Noone else I know remembers this little round which is a shame because there is quite a good tune to go with it.

Incidentally a quite senior theology academic told me that in Lent you are allowed to break your fast on a Sunday. Next time I give up something for Lent I shall remember that.

Abstaining in Lent

Adam has announced that he is going to give up watching TV for Lent. Which has rather taken me by surprise as we are not a particularly religious family and I'd forgotten that Lent was rapidly approaching (and that you are supposed to give something up for it).

What a great idea  I said.  

What are you giving up for Lent Mummy? he asked.

I bit my tongue. There are many things I'd like to give up for Lent. Being nice to irritating children over half term. Finding lost bits of Lego. Putting clothes that aren't mine into the laundry basket. Saying things more than once. The list is endless.

What do you think I should give up? 

Adam thought hard. What could Mummy give up that would be as tough for me as giving up TV  would be for him.

Tea.  He said. And then added And coffee.

This is going to be hard. I may not be very nice to anyone for the next 40 days. Or, hopefully, he'll forget that he's given up TV on day 2 so I can go back to drinking caffeine with impunity.

Review: Maps International Glow in the Dark World Map

For the last couple of months the school has been enlisting the help of my boys to encourage their parents to turn off the lights (and the rest of stuff that gets left on out of laziness). It started as Turn It Off fortnight but in the Pants household seems to have been extended to Turn It Off 2013.

Is a good idea and one that was highlighted for me when I was asked to review the Maps International Glow in the Dark Map. A normal wall map by day. Turn off the lights off and you can see what the world looks at night. It really is rather beautiful. You can see where people make their homes from the cluster of lights in a surprisingly small area of the world. In Britain the south east is lit up like a Christmas tree, as are Manchester/Liverpool and Northeast.

I'm a HUGE map fan and am determined my boys shall know how to read a map. We have a number of maps on the walls already. But I have to say I like this one. It will start to teach the boys that a map tells a story far greater than 'where is it?'

This map really made me think about how much light we use, how much electricity we waste. So the next time they turn off the kitchen light when I'm in the middle of cooking I won't mind quite as much.

Disclosure: This is a review post for which we received a Maps International Glow in the Dark Map to review and keep (although it will go to the school's Green Group) free of charge. RRP is £30.

What to get Daddy for Christmas...

This year I'm taking a new approach on Christmas present buying for Daddy. Rather than thinking, searching and worrying about the perfect present for the boys to give him, I've decided they are old enough to do it themselves. So I took them into town, said they had a maximum of £3 each to buy a present for Daddy and let them loose.

They did think about it. They wanted to buy Daddy a new watch, which would have pleased Daddy very much except the type of watches Daddy likes cost just the teensiest bit more than the £3 limit.

So we searched a bit more and may I just stress at this point that they had no input from me - they were free to choose whatever they wanted for Daddy . Eventually the boys returned triumphant. So under the tree we are putting very beautifully wrapped up presents of a pair of bright yellow mirrored aviator glasses (possibly from the womens section) and a mankini.

Comedy Gold.

Thoughts on nearly being flooded. Again.

A few years ago now we bought a house. A lovely house. A house that is on the small side but just perfect for us.

We love this house. We love the area we live in. We wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

Unfortunately our house is on a flood plain. Many years ago when we bought the house this wasn't a big deal. 'Never flooded' they said when the searches raised the flood plain issue. Fair enough we thought. And bought it.

Last week we once again spent most the week on high alert, nervously watching the river levels, the ground water and the levels of the local lake and streams. They came up. We laughed them off. The Environmental Agency turned up and pumped a whole load of water away. The levels carried on coming up. The council dropped off sand bags for us. We thought about moving things upstairs but as we're in the middle of building works everything has been trashed anyway and as I hate our sofas I had no intention of moving them out of harms way. The local roads were shut because they were impassable and we waded to school (brilliantly, Britishly still open and revelling in stoically soldiering on throughout the drama). Then slowly, desperately slowly, the water levels began to fall and eventually we were taken off flood warning.

This isn't the first time this has happened since we moved here, and I doubt it will be the last, even the last this winter. The ground is sodden wet from summer and the water doesn't have anywhere else to go. So we sigh and put our trust in the flood defences installed by the council at great expense (worth every penny) and hope for the best.

But being flooded is a funny old thing. I always thought that being flooded would be quite dramatic. Lashings of rain. Torrents of water. But it isn't - not here at least. No, we get flooded days after the rain storms, when the water has time to seep into the rivers. So as we sandbag our doorsteps it isn't raining. Last time we did it our opera singer neighbours serenaded the street as our neighbours on the other side handed out champagne from their wedding days earlier. As no one actually had to deal with water in their property it turned out to be quite an entertaining afternoon.

Once the sandbags are down there is really nothing left to do except for wait. There's not much you can do really except hope the whole thing goes away. Obviously that doesn't stop us all panicking, rushing around, spreading rumours about what is happening, what is going to happen and then twirling around a bit more. But in the end we just have to wait. The waiting goes on for hours and days. And then eventually you think that maybe the water has gone down just a touch, and then it does.

Only it isn't over then. Because then you have to deal with The Rats. Flooded out of their homes they invade ours. I was shouting 'there's a rat in the kitchen, what am I going to do?' for real last week - whilst waving around a broom stick and trying to usher it outside the kitchen. Probably better than the slugs though with whom we fight an ongoing and losing battle.

We aren't going to move. We have still never been flooded. But it has come pretty close now on too many occasions. And for all the flood defences in the world, there isn't that much we can do about it.

Hypochondriachal drama

There are few things in life that are known for certain. One is that my brother (bless his cotton socks) is one of the worlds great drama queen hypochondriacs. I should know, I grew up with him. My childhood was spent trying to ignore whichever great medical drama he was having. A slight strain of a muscle results in weeks of limping, or more usually, a pained tiny little voice asking so bravely if we could possibly get him whatever he needed. A possible temperature goes on for days with constant checking and rechecking of the slightly warm brow.

I have to say that living with one of these is tiring. I love my brother dearly, but I don't envy his wife. When my brother and I finally stopped living in the same place (which was later than most siblings as we shared a flat for years) I drew a huge sigh of relief and selected a husband who was not so dramatically prone.

Then I had my eldest son.

I've been worried about his hypochondria tendencies for a while. Worried that life may have mistakenly thought I have not endured enough drama queeness. Worried that my brother had been giving him lessons on the sly. My fears were confirmed on a trip to the opticians earlier this week.

My eldest (who had skipped out of school, scoffed a few cakes and been full of beans and the brightness of life) flopped wanly onto the opticians chair and sighed. He was asked how his eyesight was and (I kid you not) raised one hand to his forehead and managed to whisper that everything was very blurry. The optician asked if he got headaches.

'yes' my child replied weakly 'all the time'. First I've heard of it, and trust me, he is not one to hold back if there is a pain on his body.

The test commenced. The optician had a good look at everything. Put in different lenses into the glasses thing they used. Each one was greeted with a tiny, tired voice exclaiming that it was blurry or maybe that it was a little bit better than the last one.

Finally he settled on the best combination for his eyes, that he agreed (in his very bravest I am so sick voice) was the least blurry of them all.

The optician, who's eyebrows were reaching the ceiling with the amount of overacting going on, signalled to me.

No lenses in the glasses at all. Eyes were, we all agreed except for my eldest, absolutely A-OK.

We went to leave and the boy (who had only just managed to raise himself from the chair such was his exhaustion) LIMPED from the shop.

I feel my brother, who managed to put all his drama tendencies to good use by actually becoming an actor, has found the most exquisite form of sibling torture there is: take the most annoying tendency you have and encourage your nephew to do exactly the same. Guaranteed to make the parents cry.

Things never heard in my 1970s childhood

I like to think that we are giving our children a childhood not that dissimilar to our own. We do plenty of walks, tree climbing, bike riding and playground. The boys can watch TV but only after 5.30 until supper at about 6. They  learn their spellings, eat their home cooked meals, bake cakes with me, go to bed about 8 and have to do what they are told - preferably first time.

But there are some big old differences. Here are some phrases I never heard as a child in the 1970s:

1. Which squash would you like? Pomegranate and elderflower or mango and raspberry? (As far as I remember it was orange, orange or orange)

2. Of course you can listen to that song again (pressing the back button on the CD to get to the beginning of the song is far easier than trying to rewind a cassette to the perfect start of song point)

3. OK, we are on the motorway, which DVD do you lot want to watch? (as opposed to counting the number of red cars on the other side of the road, fighting with your brothers or trying to read a book and then feeling sick for the rest of the journey)

4. Did you want to watch an episode of Deadly 60, I'll just see if there is one on IPlayer. (I don't remember videos or DVDs making an appearance until well into the 1980s. The thought that you could watch something on demand and not have to wait until next week to see the programme again would have blown my mind)

5. You are right, we have been waiting a long time in the Doctors waiting room. Here, have a go on Angry Birds on my phone until the Doctor is ready. (We always got 'a tough luck sunshine, we've got to see the doctor so just carry on waiting'.)

6. Yes Chip, Biff and Kipper are quite silly. (Although a massive improvement on Janet and John...)

7. You built a model of London at school and burnt in down in the playground to learn about the Fire of London (we NEVER got to do fun things like that at school!)

8. Just eat up your chorizo/pesto/humous/couscous/insert lovely food here (I don't even remember what we ate as children. Lots of fishfingers and sausages I think)

9. Did you just fall off the climbing frame? Poor you, did you hurt yourself? No, not too badly. Ok, well just be more careful next time (remember the concrete playgrounds? We didn't bounce back that fast after a fall onto one of those)

10. Is that another enormous, unpatchable hole in your trousers? Never mind, we'll see if we can get you a new pair at the weekend. (a new pair of trousers cost a fortune in the 1970s. No way would my parents have been as sangfroid about such destruction. So much cheaper now, which is a blessing the number of pairs of trousers we go through)

Anyone want to add any?