Isn't Negligee French for Neglect?

Dahlings, how are you all?


Right that's enough about you, back to me.

Went to a Daphne4Boyz Mother's Power Lunch yesterday.
Discussion of vital issues including the horror of rugby (Swollen Parts and How to Deal With Them), what happens when you pack your 10 year old's boxer pants by mistake in husband's case for business trip (Swollen Parts and How to Deal With Them) (husband uncomplainingly goes commando) and Most Important of All:

Do we need to Raise our Game in terms of Nightwear in view of our Advancing Years?

To be honest, my heart sank.  I thought bed was one place were I could let it all go and happily crawl into my tatty pjs and washed out sweatshirts. And as Mr B is usually at work till all hours "trying to get something out" (always thought he was referring to a new draft of legislation but now wonder if I should check he has right underpants on) he never actually sees me in daylight anyway, let alone notice what night garb I am wearing.

On the other hand, only the day before I had been checking out the Marks and Spencer nightwear as I am in the market for some news pjs, having reluctantly parted company with one pair which had mysteriously developed holes after only 15 years..so this topic was of  great interest.

Instead of comfy Mummy pjs, should I get myself an elegant La Perla type night dress with matching gown? 

La Perla; "Your dinner is in the dog Mr B"

 But feel I do not have the lifestyle to go with it - when would I actually put on the gown?  These days I am either comatose or up wrangling Boys 1 and 2, there is no in between lounging around dipping strawberries in champagne ...And I can't have any drapey silk getting underfoot as I chase the boys around the house (Elf and Safety issues). I suppose Cruella de Ville managed ok, but then she had help.

Also if Mr B did come home early enough to catch sight of me decked up like this, he would probably think he was in the wrong house and go next door looking for his supper...

La Perla; "Darling be a dear and take the bins out would you?"...(hey, I am starting to get the point of this fancy sleepwear idea, just need to hire a body double and some antique furniture)

Vita e Passioni d'Emira silk-georgette and lace robe

Rosamosario £520  from net a porter

 Rosamosario Venetian Love lace-trimmed silk-crepe kimono

£695 from net a porter

       

Us Daphne4Boyz Mothers also discussed the fashion for All in Ones- I mentioned how unsettled I was to see these on offer at M&S for Grown Ups.

From M&S on-line

 Apparently lots of young girls wear these at boarding school to keep warm while doing their prep.  Best left to the young I feel - also the likelihood of my toppling over and knocking myself out when trying to extricate myself from said garment in middle of the night to have a wee is too high....do not want to be found unconscious with babygro round my ankles.... (What's that Mr B?  Wouldn't be the first time? Ha ha Mr B, ha ha).


The only good look I've seen involving a onesie recently (apart from babies who of course look adorable in them) is this:

found this on pinterest, not sure who took the pic in first place, happy to attribute if anyone knows

 Who knew that the whole issue of night clothes is so fraught?

And why are those coat thingies called negligees?  When they are so obviously the exact opposite of Letting Oneself Go?   Answers please ready for next Daphnes Mothers Power Lunch. No pressure. A full Powerpoint presentation and Excel spreadsheet of different sleepwear option price points is also required.

Mrs B - On Trend

Dahlings, you know how old Victoria Beckham is always carrying that baby around -Harpo - like some sort of uber accessory? (actually I must admit I love that baby, such a gorgeous grumptious little face).

And you know how old Beyonce now has little Blu-Ray?


Well I don't like to be left out....

Yes, dahlings, my very own adorable Mini - Me...

Now, suggestions please for a name (not sure whether it's a boy or a girl, I don't want to force any gender stereotypes on my sensitive little poppet..)

The person who comes up with the best name* will get an EXCITING PRIZE which I haven't thought of yet but will probs be a nail varnish in a dodgy green colour or Colin the Cheese  String (in fridge since 2009) and a couple of squashed mini choc eggs from under Boy 1's bed ..



By the way, while we are talking celebrity kids, do you know this? 
http://surisburnbook.tumblr.com/

hilarious...


*Rules: I will decide on winning name in totally capricious and unfair way; filthy names will get extra credit; my decision is final and my word law; competition open to all ; also I  totally reserve the right, should I feel like it, to give the prize to my friend K who gave Boy 2 the Mini Blighty and who lives across the road so I would not have to queue up at the post office to send off the prize which could be a bit tiring...

WOT I DONE IN ME HOLIDAYS AND OTHER NEWS

Dahlings, I can't believe how long it is since last I blogged. Disgraceful! I really would not want this blog to fall into desuetude.* Although (much to Mr Blighty's amusement) during my breaks in posting I always gain more followers.  Paradoxically*, frequent posting causes me to lose followers - what me, offend people? Shocking!

Well life seems to have been coming at me like a hyperactive toddler covered in melted chocolate when you are wearing a cream suit, and there has been the small event of Boys 1and 2's half term hols (now safely over, though Boy 1 did manage to wangle a day off "ill" last week - "ill" as in, I feel a bit tired and don't really much fancy it today). AND THEY HAVE ONLY 4 WEEKS LEFT NOW OF SCHOOL BEFORE THE LONG SUMMER HOLS NOT THAT I AM PANICKING OR ANYTHING WHERE IS MY PASSPORT STUFF IT I WILL LEAVE ALL MY CLOTHES BEHIND YES I WANT TO CLOSE THE ACCOUNTS AND TAKE THE WHOLE BALANCE IN CASH TAXIIIIIIIII! WHEN IS THE NEXT FLIGHT LEAVING? WHERE? NEVER HEARD OF IT GIVE ME A SINGLE TICKET CAN I PAY CASH? ETC ETC!..

So in this post I am just going randomly to paste pics from the last couple of weeks and make it up as I go along (so actually no change whatsoever to my usual modus operandi*)..

Above, 3D glasses -Mr B has just taken the boys off to watch Kung Fu Panda 2.  During the hols I took them to Pirates of the Caribbean 34  and would like to point out that the actual running time of that film is in fact 2 and a half days, never mind what they claim on the cinema website.  I can also confirm that the correct mathematical formula for popcorn consumption by Boy 2 is : bodyweight x 2 + total arm  reach x fist capacity - trouser coverage - time popcorn removed by Mummy who is no fun at all.  All rigorously scientifically tested. Another interesting statistic: number of times Mummy said loudly in a quiet bit "Does anyone need a wee?" = 7 ( Oh and I would just like to say well done to the man at the back who very obediently did as he was told..)


Cinema today is a good idea as it has been raining nonstop and cricket has been cancelled.  Mind you, cricket is not what is was, thanks to a teenage pyromaniac who did this to the cricket pavilion just a  couple of months ago.

Grandma Whacker came to stay to help me with the boys during half-term.  She brought these lovely roses from her garden.

 With my mother around I regressed to my teenage self, wore ripped jeans and painted my nails an alarming colour.  Grandma pronounced that "You bloggy girls have very frightening nails!"

 I tried to be a bit Faux Fuchsia so wore this purple rock arrangement (copyright FF 20110).

The colour is OPI Summer 2010 .   I am thinking that soon I will get my alter ego Sindy Lemon-Grass-Snoddy (beautician and research chemist) to do a guest post on nail polish.

I played chess with Boy 2 (aged 8).  He beat me. Easily.  I can't actually play chess and so Boy 2 has been teaching me, but he only tells me certain things, bit by bit.  The book is for me, not him. I'll show him!

 This thing below is Mr Snoodles.  Boy 2 has been going on about buying him for ages, he is a Moshi Monster character. Apparently.  I must admit to being somewhat underwhelmed when I finally came face to face with Mr Snoodles.  He is basically a yellow pig with green ears.  Boy 2 of course adores him and will do for at least the next 10 hours, before abandoning him on his bedroom floor forever. Poor Mr Snoodles.

This is, according to Mr Blighty, the most expensive property in the UK - One Hyde Park. The penthouse flat sold for about £140 million last year. Gulp!  We went past it on the way to a football birthday party in Hyde Park a few weeks ago.

They must get a nice view of the park.

 And at the bottom of the building is a handy convenience store, for those last minute essentials.

Once the boys went back to school Grandma and I hit up John Lewis, that purveyor of all household wares to middle England.  Look at the price of this baby!  Does it go buy the ingredients for you, load them in the car and unpack them when it gets home?  For this price it's the least it can do.

 I liked the colour of this Kitchen Aid.  But Grandma reminded me that I did not really cook plus there is the evidence of prior gadget abuse in the form of my breadmaker (last used in 2007), slow cooker, rice cooker...

 Loved the cheery colours of these gadgets.  I could wear matching nail polish (not now Sindy).

Grandma and I endured the Horror of Sports Day - from 9am to 5pm on a windswept sports field bordering the motorway, total time spent by Boy 1 and Boy 2 doing an event 4 mins.  I particularly enjoyed the hail stones at about 2.30pm, though the drizzle at 11am was good too.  And readers of Faux Fuchsia will know that just the other day she locked her keys in the car and had to get the emergency rescue man out.  Well, ever keen to emulate Faux I locked Grandma in the car at the start of Sports Day. For 20 minutes.  By accident. Honest.  Result: one Very Cross Grandma;  the RSPCA are never going to let me have a dog; and Grandma will never get in the car again without the keys and an emergency flare. 

Here is Boy 2 taking it all very seriously, keeping his pompoms dry. At least I think it is Boy 2 - as usual I was cheering on a boy with the same red trainers - who turned out not to be Boy 2.....And I can never remember the house names and colours - "no Mummy, green is Ringworm, Yellow is Impetigo, Red is ChickenPox, Blue is Verruca"  (Daphnes4Boy$ Sports Day, sponsored by Clapxx  Pharmaceuticals).

 Yesterday we went to a lovely party, and the boys did lots of this, having investigated the chocolate fountain and the ice cream van first.

Finally I found these in the cupboards, sweet little baby plates which a Swedish friend gave us when Boy 1 was tiny.  I am wondering whether a certain little Australian baby might like these.  I never really used them as I favoured bowls that could be stuck down by suction pads onto the high chair. 

 

Even so, this happened far too often...

*  I would like to dedicate these items of vocabulary to Louise InTownsville and Linda in Chile.

Mrs Blighty is here to help

Paul Smith babygro, from Paul Smith website, for babies, you can get babygros for adults but that's just so wrong

Happy New Year Dahlings! So we have finished with the Noughties. What are we calling this new decade thingie? The Elevenses? Nope. The Onesies? Isn't that what Americans call babygros? (those all-in-one suit thingies you put new babies in, which have 120 poppers to do up and if you get one wrong you have to start all over again and so is excellent when parent is sleep deprived and it is 3am and you can't see, as the lights are low to persuade the Baby (who is trying out for the lead in The Omen) to go back to sleep, and obviously I am not talking from experience....)

Ah yes, babies. I am very excited about the lovely Faux Fuchsia's baby news. Of course when I met her back a couple of months ago I knew she was pregnant (I am a highly trained medical professional - er, well, no) and was Sworn to Secrecy. For a blabbermouth like me this was a real challenge....time and again I would start a post about cupcakes or my slowcooker or books or nail varnish (note how these are ranked in order of importance vis a vis world peace) and suddenly I would find myself typing "FAUX FUCHSIA IS HAVING A BABY HOW EXCITING IS THAT"...

And doesn't FF look divine and chic, quite most elegant mother to be ever? But I do feel she could do with a bit of Blighty advice re maternity wear.

I don't know what is going on in the FF household but poor darling FF is forced to make do with her YSL and Malene Birger dresses, ole Mr FF needs to spring open his wallet and buy her some proper maternity wear, or to be more precise, a tent.

A tent is brilliant as it hides All, and also provides shelter for passing wildlife. A floral tent is even better as it covers up foodstains which result from you using your tummy as a ledge on which to balance your mid-morning snack (full English, hot choc, washed down with a couple of doughnuts). Gosh I miss that ledge!

And once the baby arrives you can sell the tent on to the Armed Forces for camouflaging aircraft carriers.

Well that's my styling tip for 2011. Must go as Mr Blighty has launched into some DIY involving drilling holes in bits of wood which for some reason he has to do in the kitchen and I am really starting to regret that third glass of Sainsbury's Cava last night (Mrs B, the last of the party animals)...

I leave you with this list entitled Preparation for Parenthood. Someone gave it to me when I was expecting Boy 1. Up until the point he arrived I found it rather amusing. ( don't know who composed this, will of course attribute if anyone knows where it is from).

Colourblind

The other day the really nice man from the Blinds shop came to measure up for a new blackout blind for Boy 1's bedroom. Old one strangely frayed at edges - query - has Boy 1 been chewing it and if so how did he manage this? Also roller making strange rattling sound, possibly Lego inside.

I have been obsessed with blackout blinds ever since Boy 1 was a tiny baby and I became a disciple of Gina Ford's "The Contented Little Baby Book". I have no idea whether Gina is still in vogue but I remember at the time your baby either was or wasn't a Gina baby, and parenting sites would be full of highly charged debates about the wonderfulness or awfulness of the big G.

When we brought newborn Boy 1 home from the hospital Mr B and I were a bit unsure what to do next. Mr B gave him a tour of the flat, showed him his room and explained how the washing machine worked. Then we sat him on the sofa, looked at him for a while and asked him if he would like a cup of tea. We thought we had a new lodger rather than a baby. Imagine our surprise later that evening when our quiet new housemate suddenly transformed into a wailing, all-night party animal; and the partying didn't stop there, night after night it went on...There were moments when I found myself searching through my wallet for a receipt from the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital to see how long I had to return him and get a refund.

It became obvious we needed some sort of users manual on how to operate a baby. When should he nap? Do you change his nappy before or after a feed? How much on-line poker should he be allowed to play?

This is where Gina came in. Gina was all about routines for your baby, and her book contained exacting timetables to follow. Very exacting timetables. I can recall getting quite stressed if it was 9.02am and I still had not put "baby" in his cot for his first nap of the day; I could never remember which breast I had given him (probably one of my own but in my sleep deprived state even this was uncertain) and I never fancied the large glass of water I was supposed to drink after a feed (a cup of tea and a packet of biscuits was more what I had in mind). And Gina gave dire warnings about not letting "baby" nap after 5pm because otherwise he would not Go Down at 7pm, to such an extent that any signs of snooziness in Boy 1 at this time of day would give me panic attacks.

I am sort of coming to a point. Gina was very firm in advocating both blackout blinds and interlined curtains in "baby's" room, to ensure he slept well. The book included terrifying case studies of babies who were Woken by Light Coming into their Rooms. My favourite was where the father, a City trader, left for work at 5am each morning and the Light from the front door opening Woke the Baby; in this instance Gina seemed to condemn at one fell swoop bankers, fathers, and lack of suitable window dressings. So this explains my blinds fetish.

After the measuring up, important discussions took place about what colour blind would match the curtains. The blinds guy had lots of books of swatches, and I found myself telling him about a study on colour perception done by some super clever boffin guy in the US*. So I thought I'd tell you all about it too. I find it so funny. Then again it could just be the sheer relief that Boy 1 won't be Woken by Light Coming into his Room.

http://blog.xkcd.com/2010/05/03/color-survey-results/

Warning - the language, as you might expect of young studenty types is strong, not suitable for children.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randall_Munroe