Baby boom

One of my favourite things about being in a community church is welcoming new babies. It's always a joy, but just lately there have been quite a few extra special ones, and it's been so moving watching people light up when they realise the new babies have arrived at the meeting for the first time - lots of cuddles all round, lots of love and encouragements to the new 'big brothers or sisters', lots of wonder at babies' teeny feet and perfect little heads etc etc - we can't get enough of it! The way time flies... the way we can't remember anyone being so small before... the way they look like their parents....it's as if it's a brand new concept each time!

I am really proud of church during these times - meal rotas kick in and boy do they hit the spot. I remember being on the receiving end myself - we'd be almost hopping up and down with excitement waiting to see what was for dinner. And it was delivered by someone who was excited for us and gave us yet more attention as well as the meal! Fabulous. There's nothing like the ravenous hunger of a new mum, and to have a full meal without having had to cook it, well it was perfect. Sitting amongst piles of washing, with bleary eyes and a body that ached from head to toe, I tucked in and I loved it. I had a lot of wine too (for medicinal purposes).

I think in church these babies have the most enormous extended family but they don't know it yet. I can't wait to see them grow up and to see what they add to the mix. But for now, welcome little babes; you are already a part of us and we couldn't be happier to have you.

The Cake

It's that time of year again - rolling out the ready-made icing on to different shaped layers of goo. Why do we do it? In the Autumn I was in the baking aisle, highly stressed but unable to do anything but push onwards. Where were the long thin biscuity things that would make good axles for the wheels of a skateboard cake?? Where?? Sighing and groaning maybe a little too loudly, I became aware of another lady scanning the shelves. "What are you looking for?" I asked. "Ughhhh, something for googly eyes for Halloween" she replied. We then had quite a sisterly little moment looking together for green things. But the pupils had to be black, it was just the irises that needed to be green... would the child know? Would he care? Probably not. But we know! We care! She was one like me - not really in a competition with other mums but with herself.

The truth is I love it. It's one of the things I looked forward to about being a mum. Don't get me wrong, there's been tears over the years (no, not Colin's). Ridiculous I know, but true. But really I love it - I could plan parties til the cows come home, just because I like it, I have a flexible job so I can make time for it and it makes me happy, otherwise I wouldn't do it. What makes me giggle though is that when pictures of cakes appear on the interweb we all write "ooo you're a great mum!" based on a cake. I want to say "I can't comment on your motherliness but hey, you're a great cake decorator!"

What makes a great mum? I put it to the court that it has not much to do with icing sugar. Some mums are brilliant at going to the park (not me), some mums are brilliant at putting themselves last (not me), some mums don't bat an eyelid at vomit (not me!!), some mums are always on time (getting better at that), some mums are great at robotic dancing (oo! me! me!). Some have children with special needs who drain every ounce of life from them, so making a cake is an irrelevancy - who's telling them they're a "totally awesome mom"? (Sorry I've been looking at a lot of cakes made by American moms on the internet!).

They say it takes a village to raise a child. Well I think it takes a village to make a mum too. So thanks to Kellie for icing sugar lessons, Lynn for finding the ice cream cones in Tescos yesterday, Rachel H for the brainstorm, Maria for the pep talk, Bob for the advice on folding royal icing a year ago, Becky for the other pep talk (with a fry up so slightly better) ...and all this has been drawn upon this one afternoon just for The Cake. Imagine the input I've had on the bigger issues over the years, the stuff that really matters - now that's totally awesome!!

Happy New-ish Year!

OK OK I went quiet for a bit - it's not too difficult to guess why - we bit off more than we could chew last term. But chew it we did, and slowly, slowly swallowed it. (I'm not sure where this analogy has come from, and it's not that pleasant so I'll get on.)

So, as Evie says, we're "through with baby Jesus" . He's so last year. We're on to 'growing things' if you're in Reception class, 'birds' if you're in Year 3 and 'space' if you're getting on a bit and in Year 5. Yes, in school you get the luxury of a brand new topic every term. However in real life you find you're still catching up from last term. Us Nichols, we're still eating everything up from last term! We even ended up with chocolate spoons over Christmas. I think this invention neatly sums up the spirit of Christmas these days: "We can't possibly make do with normal spoons over Christmas!! We must have spoons of pure chocolate!!" (*clap clap* spoons magically appear, stage left). It is no great hardship to eat everything up of course, and we are soldiering on with the task. We will not be beaten until the very last chocolate button has gone.

In an effort to counterbalance all this chomping, hubs and I are going to go dancing tonight. Get ready Worthing, to receive the gift that is.... Nichols and Nichols Dance Troupe. It is time for us to give something back to the town. It has to be said we don't have a good track record with dancing, but we're way more mature than the days where I'd strop off because Col wouldn't stop shimmying or embellishing the moves the teacher told us. And Col's way more understanding than the days where he'd beg me incessantly to jump into his arms without any back up. What can possibly go wrong this time. It's jivey-cerocy-hipetty hoppy, it'll be marvellous, you wait.

And after that - ohhh the joy of perfect television: Mary Portas taking on the issue of bad service in shops in Britain. I can barely contain myself. It is one of my all time pet peeves - don't even get me started.....

Appendix 1: For more sensitive readers we wish to make it clear that in no way do we really consider Jesus to be 'last year' but very very present and relevant in all ways on all days.

Thumbs up for change

Last week was emotionally hectic.

Our lastborn started school - as you can see she was raring to go.

She believes she is one of the teachers rather than a member of 'Bluebells'. From the second day onwards she didn't even want me to go in with her but rather, dump her on the kerb nearby. (I refused of course, I like looking at her for as long as possible.)

On the same day I went back to school too. I have started an Art Foundation course. I am in way over my head. I have bought a Wonder Woman pencil case though - so I can intimidate all my arty student mates.

The next day Child A went on his first ever residential trip with school.

He took it like a man. They stayed up most of the night telling farty jokes and giggling in to their pillows.

On the same day, our youngest boy decided to have a birthday - how helpful. He turned 8. He got a Lamborghini which will have to last him until he buys his real one later. His life plan is this: Play drums with a christian band telling the whole world about Jesus. Play football for Chelsea, England and Worthing United in his spare time. Buy a Lamborghini with all the money he earns.

"Summer days, d-riftin' away.."

During my brief spell as a teacher I used to feel really sad when parents rolled their eyes and heaved great sighs of doom about the holidays. Well, now I have much more sympathy, especially if you need to sort childcare out – what a nightmare. It can be tricky if it rains, and it's hard if your children are a wide range of ages, but mine all tend to bumble along together for now, and the sun's out : so far so good.

Evie has made a 'cage' for a caterpillar by folding up a sheet of kitchen towel and securing it with a clothes peg and a hair clip. The boys have been setting fire to things, thanks to their dad teaching them how to burn stuff using a magnifying glass (thanks for that Col). They've coloured bricks in with chalk and they've written a rock song or two. We've been out and about a bit, but my favourite days are the least spectacular ones, when not much is going on but everyone's OK with it.

Years ago I was told you have to have a battle plan. (Linda McCanna) Here's mine:

1. I will not feel not feel intimidated by the amazing ‘National trust/bug hunt/football club/Legoland/family fun day/£100 down the drain’- type advertising

2. I will not give in to jealousy fueled by facebook statuses - everyone else isn't having way more fun than me with their incessant BBQ’s and trendy mates.

3. I will not feel pressured to get dressed unless it is absolutely necessary

My role model is Stacey, I think she's got the right idea:

M

3 I'

Growing pains

I paid my last cheque to The Sunshine Nursery today as Evie has left – boo hoo. What fun she’s had there. I remember chatting to Gill the manager when I was deciding to send Evie there, and she asked me if I minded if Evie got paint on her or got messy. I replied ‘That’s what being two is for isn’t it?’ and I knew then that we were on the same wavelength. I think that this sums Sunshine up – it’s all about children being children, not about looking swish and ticking boxes or whatever. Put simply, it looks like so much fun when you pick up your little one. Things you want to play with yourself – little plastic pigs and cows on a muddy puddle surrounded by squares of turf (how much fun is that?) - homemade painted paper bunting all around the garden; the long eared rabbit looking through the patio door from the lounge; special scones brought home in a special paper basket decorated with special flowers; play doh pizzas set out on plates; sunflowers and beans being watched and measured by intensive little farmers. It makes you a bit jealous really.

I can’t avoid mentioning the singing!! It’s like living in a musical. I haven’t been there for it but I’ve heard the overflow – ‘Five currant buns from the bacon shop’ …. ‘mix the compost, wiggle it around, soil needs feedin’ just like YOU’ …. ‘ we’re gonna catch a big one, we’re not scared’…. ‘Hello E-vie, hello Lu-cy, hello Nem-ma, hello Felica…liza-beth’ ….. on and on it goes, when we’re out in the car or she’s day dreaming on the loo or pottering round the garden. It makes me sad to think at some point she’ll realise it’s not cool to sing to yourself when you’re out and about, but for now – thank you Sunshine because you’re such a happy place! The staff still manage to be enthusiastic at the nativity every single year, and still shed a tear when the big ones leave – well to me, that says a lot: it’s more than just a job for them.

So let’s start up one for adults! Or at least let’s start a revolution and sing loudly to ourselves in public. It will at least help me get over this painful little fact though, that my weeny girl is ready for shiny shoes and big school. (sigh…)

Pigeon shock

There’s always something you miss when you’re packing – and in our case it was a large pigeon and a cake tin behind the plinth of a kitchen cupboard. Eeeeeww!! Not a dead pet, but a visitor who fell down the chimney. Apologies to anyone who has eaten at our house lately, especially if you were served cake.

Other than that, no big surprises. Thanks to all who expressed concern about my branch. Yes, it got moved safely, along with all the other random bits of nic-nackery. It was really exciting when the lorry arrived - it was just so, well, BIG and SHINY!! Genuinely exciting! The kids got a small ride in it after I convinced the men I wouldn’t sue the company if anything happened.

In fact the removal men were lovely – they checked if anyone needed a cuddly toy before packing the beds (you know how Colin can kick off) and even had time to play with a tiny frog who had hidden illegally in the back of the lorry, in one of the plants. The frog got through customs because he was so cute, and we named him Brooklyn and made him a home. ‘How did the removal men have time for all this?’ I hear you cry. Well it turns out they didn’t, because they didn’t finish until10pm. But at least they were friendly eh?