Not Me! Monday

Not Me Mondays are the brainchild of the marvellous MckMama, veteran Mummy blogger.

Our dishwasher is NOT still broken. Is has NOT now been broken for over two weeks. We did NOT, out of a mixture of desperation and laziness, continue to use it for most of that time. Our crockery did NOT come out with a white powdery film on it, which I did NOT simply polish off with a tea-towel before putting the items away. I did NOT eventually find mould inside the dishwasher. It did NOT turn out, when the repair man eventually got here, that the dishwasher's heating element was broken so that all our stuff had been washed in cold water for a week. I am NOT now gradually washing everything again by hand. We are NOT still waiting for the stupid little electronic part to be delivered to the repair man so that he can come and fix it. This will NOT cost nearly as much as a new machine.

While trying to find a repair person, The Rev did NOT lose his patience with all the evil giant corporations who create false 'local' web pages and then phone you back from somewhere like Swansea. When one of them phoned him back, he did NOT tell her that the dishwasher was now fine because he had "laid hands on it and prayed". When she asked for clarification that the dishwasher was working, he did NOT shout "Yes! Praise the Lord!" and hang up the phone. He did NOT later refer to this as "lying for Jesus".

What have you all NOT been doing this week?

Squeaky Clean

Abi Jane has a new obsession with cleanliness. Unfortunately, this is resulting in her being grubbier than ever.

Let me explain.

Abi has worked out what wet wipes are for (a bit slow on the uptake, I know) and while previously she used to kick and scream whenever her face and hands were wiped, now it's even worse - she wants to do it herself.

Ever wanting to encourage development, of course, I let her. After dabbing her mouth daintily with one corner of the wipe like a miniature Hercule Poirot, the job's done as far as she's concerned - and off she toddles, covered in jam. Any attempt to finish the wiping for her is met with absolute outrage that Mummy doesn't appear to find her standards good enough.

Wipes, according to Abigail, are also for wiping surfaces, books, the carpet, the bottom of your shoe, the sootiest bit of the fireplace - and THEN your face. And then Mummy's face.

She likes them so much that yesterday, she took most of a packet out of the packet while I was next door preparing dinner, and hid them in her toybox for future mess making fun.

Meanwhile, upstairs in her nursery, she's become tall enough to reach the drawer where I keep her creams, cotton wool and other small hazardous items like nail scissors. (I'm going to have to start sellotaping things to the ceiling, I think. Or sellotaping her to the ceiling.) The other day, she found the cotton buds and approached me clutching one with a quizzical expression, and I made the mistake of showing her what it was for: "See, they're for cleaning your ears...NOOOO, don't actually put it in your ear! Yes, I see that it does also fit nicely up your nose...no, don't put it back in the box now, it's all...oh Abi, just give them back..."

Abi has also carried this new love of cleanliness into the realm of tidying, and follows me about while I am tidying up, collecting things and helpfully putting them in the bin. It would be marvellous, but the things she collects are mainly books and soft toys, and her bin of choice is the nappy bin.

Yuck.

Still, this answers the question of what to get her for her birthday and Christmas - toy cleaning equipment! I'll just have to be prepared for the months of extraordinary mess that will be bound to ensue...

Evening Hymn

Recent conversations about writing parodies of hymns led me to think of this parody of The Day Thou Gavest, which I wrote ages ago on a different blog. When I searched for it, I found to my distress that the whole blog (it was an ancient MSN Space one) had vanished into the ether, along with the only copy of the song. Happily, The Rev had a go at searching too, and although he didn't dredge up the old blog, he did find that someone else had kindly reposted the lyrics on their own blog - and so we have them back, and before they get lost again, I'll repost them here. I regret to say that, despite the request in the final line, the words seem even more true to life since motherhood...

EVENING HYMN

The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended
The darkness falls at thy behest
To thee my morning prayers should have ascended
But I was grumpy and sleepy and stressed.

I'm sorry, Lord, that I have stumbled
Through today without your word;
And any prayer I might have mumbled
I'd be surprised if you have heard.

And I will soon be deep in slumber
My night time prayers cut off midway,
I wouldn't like to count the number
Of things that I'll forget to say.

But wait here, Lord, while I am sleeping,
You know the troubles of my heart,
And when my snooze alarm starts beeping,
Help me to make a better start.