Christmas Cookie Cutters

An old post from Brits in Bosnia, when we were living in the NE Bosnian city of Tuzla - but one that deserves to be revisited at this time of year.

Although Tuzla is a predominantly Muslim city the stores have just started to get out their Christmas decorations. I have to admit that I find them a bit random and not totally to my taste. So, you can imagine how excited I was to come across a Christmas set of cookie cutters. 'YES!' I thought to myself 'we can make biscuits and decorations for the tree! Perfect! I'm so excited I thought I would share them with you, our new cookie cutters all nicely looped together on a special metal holder, looking good:

Here are the individual cutters. A Christmas tree. Looking fine and most Christmassy.

A shooting star and a moon. Pretty cool.

A bell and a star. I'm liking it, I'm liking it. We can do something with these.

 

And finally, the last cookie cutter in the Christmas pack. I have to say it did somewhat took me by surprise. After all, isn't the whole point of Christmas was that there isn't one of these? Snigger. Snigger.

(Bosnians protested that I have a gutter mind and this is in fact a Christmas mushroom, which hasn't helped my confusion much).

CBeebies Genius

This might not be the first time those of you who live in the UK have seen this advert. But I hadn't seen it before this weekend. Love it, total genius.

(Helpful note for non-Cbeebies viewers - Waybuloo is a sort of yoga type for kids programme)


BBC CBeebies Waybuloo from James Spence on Vimeo.

Dear So & So: The newborn edition

It's Friday. It's Dear So and So day. I'm ready to rock and roll.



Dear Sam,

You are totally gorgeous. Even at 3am. It must be love - I don't like anyone at 3am.

Love,
Mummy

PS - but if we could stop waking up to check that Mummy still loves you even at 3am that would be a good thing. x

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Dear Jessie,

Running into a barbed wire fence has not been your brightest move. Now the vet has shaved your face you look like a golden retriever version of a fighting street cat. It's not your best look. Can you keep an eye on where you are going from now on? If nothing else, I'd rather not keep handing over vast amounts of cash to the vet for something that really should be easily avoidable?

Yours,
Broke Pants

PS - and if you do have to run into a barbed wire fence, do try not to run into a post straight afterwards. Just a tip.

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Dear Health Professionals,

My newborn is not called Baby. He is called Sam. So please stop saying things like 'Let's weigh Baby'. It is 'Let's weigh Sam' or 'Let's weigh the Baby' (see that use of the definite article there, not a difficult part of the English language really). The only time it is acceptable to talk about Baby is if you are Patrick Swayze, talking about a corner and you are actually in Dirty Dancing.

Yours,
Pedantic Pants.

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Dear Midwife and your incredibly annoying student

Mistakes happen and I have no problem with that. However, when I point out to you that it is extremely unlikely that I have put on 15 kilos in one week and you choose not to listen to me I start to get irate. Particularly when your insistance on writing down the wrong weight in my notes led to all sorts of complications when I went into hospital and your version of my weight was used to calculate the amount of drugs I needed. So please learn to listen to your patients, use your common sense and when you make a mistake, it is generally good practice to apologise.

Yours,
Not so tubby Pants

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Dear older boys,

You have taken to the arrival of your little brother with aplomb. You are both great at holding him and he is going to absolutely adore you. I'm so proud of you both.

Love Mummy

PS - if you could stop bashing each other that would also be marvellous...

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Dear Teachers at the Boys School,

It's ok. You can stop with the furtive glances at the pram. Sam isn't as loud as Luke. If your 2014 classroom is as loud as your 2010 one, it will be someone else's child contributing the noise. #

Yours, as we all live in the pursuit of the odd moment of peace and quiet,
Deaf Pants

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Dear Luke,

I am not a climbing frame. Nor am I deaf. Please can we remember these two simple facts?

Love,
Mummy

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Dear Nurseries round here,

Full? You are already full? When do people put their children on your lists? Before they are conceived?

Bah, humbug,

Disorganised Pants

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Dear PhD Supervisor,

I might have time for the odd email. The email might even have a few thoughts strung together that look like I have a functioning brain cell. That isn't the same as writing a paper for publication in April. That could be stretching the brain cell's ability by a considerable amount. I'll give it a go, but don't hold your breath.

Yours, in chaos,
Pants

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Dear Internet Shopping,

I love you.  I loooooove  you. What did people do without you?

Yours, with Christmas totally under control (for now)
Pants

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Dear Virgin Media,

Your broadband is great. That is the ONLY reason that we are still with you. Your TV box is rubbish and everytime I use it I am reduced to screeching bad words at its rubbish user interface (did you see that, I can talk the jargon if I have to!). There is no excuse for it.

Yours,
Irritable Pants

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Dear Snow,

Thank you for not visiting here. I'm finding the cold weather tough enough to deal with whilst still working out how to get 3  children and myself out of the house on the same day I set out to leave the house. I think any snow would have finished me off.

Yours,
White Cotton Pants.

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Dear Winter,

You appear to have forgotten that you are supposed to be in Bosnia. Please head over there and supply them with cold and snow. They've apparently got our winter at the moment and we'd quite like it back. We thought we'd left the cold stuff behind when we came back here, not that happy to find it followed us. We don't have municipal heating or winter tyres in the UK either, which does make it much harder to cope with.

Thanks!
Chilly Pants

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Dear Sam,

I'm so enjoying this time with you. I feel that this time round I've got the time and energy to appreciate this newborn period. I have to say that the 4 year age gap between you and your nearest brother is a far more sensible one than the 19 month age gap between your brothers. That nearly wiped me out.

Looking forward to sharing the rest of your babyhood,
Love,
Mummy xxxx


Got something you want to get off your chest? Write your own Dear So and So and head over to Kat's to sign up so we can all come and read.

The Gallery: White

Date: Christmas Day, 2008

Place: Jahorina Mountain, Sarajevo

My family came to Bosnia for Christmas 2008 and we decided to stay in Jahorina, just outside of Sarajevo. Being Christmas Day and all, we'd had an early start. The boys were so excited, and had opened the stocking presents with enthusiasm. Then there was sudden quiet, they were totally engrossed in their new toys. Mum looked at me and Dave and told us to take the opportunity and get out there; the boys were going to be easy to look after for the next hour or so and we weren't going to get a better chance that this to get some skiing in.

So we did. We were almost the first up the mountain that morning. At the top of the mountain it was a beautiful day, but freezing cold. Above the clouds, it was clear and we could see for miles. It had snowed over night and we choose a route that no one had skied yet. The snow was amazing, beautifully light and powdery, heaven on earth for the snowboarding Dave and pretty fun for me on my two skis. We raced each other down the mountain. We ski at about the same speed, are around the same standard and are both very competitive. We hadn't had so much fun in ages. It was cold, exhilarating, life affirming.

About half way down the mountain we hit the clouds. Everything went white. Dave took a tumble. Too busy laughing at him, I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing and down I went too. Served me right, Dave enjoyed it enormously.

We managed a couple of runs before putting our parent hats back on and returning our grown up responsible selves. But I'll always remember that Christmas morning, when we got to spend some time together, just the two of us, doing something we adore, having so much fun and feeling so alive.

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An entry for the Gallery - but astute readers will bit of a rehash from an old gallery entry (week 3 in fact!) from my old blog Brits In Bosnia

TubeTown Review - Updated - Dragons Lair Castle.

They took pity on my boys. We reviewed the TubeTown Gingerbread House a while back and we loved it. Totally adored every single thing about it except that it was very, very pink. This wasn't cool for my boys. Apparently they are allergic to all pink things, which remains a shame for me who was starting to enjoy having something (anything!) pink in my house.

But one morning a courier man appeared and asked to do a swap. The Gingerbread House for the Dragon's Lair Castle. The boys were drooling as soon as they heard the word 'Dragon'. The pretty pink Gingerbread House was packed away and in its place was erected a castle. And what a castle. It's big, but not much more so than the Gingerbread House. It's taller, my 4 yo can easily stand up in it. There are windows and dragon's and doors to be velcroed together. It goes up quickly, comes down faster and packs away with not a whiff of a problem or swear word from the adult. All the things we loved about the Gingerbread House remain true in the Castle.

To really test it out we invited a few friends over. At one point there were 7 children under the age of 6 in the house (it was a little crowded and they did put the house on its side to make more room for everyone). More importantly, we didn't see the 7 children all afternoon, leaving the Mummys plenty of time to catch up with gossip and coffee. We've put the castle up almost every time any child has come over since and they have all loved it.

The Dragon's Lair Castle isn't available in the UK yet, but there are rumours that it will be soon - January or February from Toys R Us or ELC, price to be confirmed. But given how popular the Gingerbread Houses have been, I would say if you see one of these for sale, snap it up fast!


This is a sponsored post for which we received a Dragon's Lair Castle to review free of charge.

Why is it always the religious conversations that leave me flummoxed?

Adam's clearly been listening to the lessons about Christmas at school. Here's the conversation we had over dinner last night.

- Mummy?

- Yes Darling?

- Is Baby Sam like Baby Jesus?

- Yes, he is. But Baby Sam has a different birthday to Baby Jesus.

- If Baby Sam is like Baby Jesus, then are you like Baby Jesus's mother, Mary?

- Err. I guess so (although clearly not a virgin or look good in blue, but lets gloss over those minor technical defects)

- So if you are like Baby Jesus's mother, then Daddy is like Baby Jesus's father.

- I guess you could say Daddy is like Joseph

- Daddy isn't like Joseph Mummy. Baby Jesus is the Son of God. Which means that Daddy is God.

- Errrr (Hmmmm how do you explain the paternity of Baby Jesus to a 5 year old? Most adults find it a tad confusing. But most of all, do not, ever, under any circumstance refer to Daddy as God. He doesn't need any encouragement) I think Daddy is probably more like Joseph. Do you want some more sausages?