Sorting the Mop

I do not like going to the hair dresser, never have, never will.  I don’t find it particularly relaxing, I could be doing something more productive with my time rather than sitting drinking coffee under very bright lights in front of a very large mirror making small chat with a stranger.  Just me?

Thanks to a home dye kit and the summer sun I have been rocking (or not) an orangey, grey striped, brown rooted look for the past few months.  Crunch time was the other week when I had my hair scraped back in a pony tail and Miss Sassy informed me that my hair was a weird colour and I looked really, really old.  Honestly if you ever need an instant confidence boost just come on over to our house.  I told her that it wasn’t grey or white it was silver sparkly hair, that seemed to make her happy, I went from old mama to magical mama in one sentence, boom!

It was all well and good me wanting to sort the mop out however I had no clue where to go.  If there is one thing that I dislike about this military wife life it is finding a hairdresser.  I last visited the hairdresser in June before we moved here.  You see finding a doctor or dentist is easy, I say that I still haven’t registered for the dentist.  Finding a hairdresser……bleurgh that’s comes under can’t be ars*d until the situation is desperate.  With the Mess Christmas Party round the corner I would say that is was getting pretty desperate.  Luckily my neighbour, Double H, had done some research and found a hairdresser.  Taking one for the team she booked an appointment and it was a success.  Not only did she get a lovely shiny new hair do she also got a recommend a friend discount, yes thank you very much I will have that. 

I didn’t phone to book an appointment because I had no clue what I wanted.  To be honest I’ve never had a clue when it comes to hair.  So, one morning after the school run I popped into the salon to ‘have a chat’.  For once I wasn’t in my active wear with my hair scraped back, probably a good thing, first impressions and all that.  Well, if I said the receptionist was well groomed that would be an understatement.  She gave me that look, you know the one, oh here we go harassed Mama who has let herself go, a paid-up member of the Bograt Society.  With an overly sympathetic look she asked me if I had an appointment.  Looking back my response may have been just a little bit over dramatic, I sighed and simply said I need help.  Well, that’s when 2 stylists whisked me off to sit in front of a very large mirror under very very bright lights to scrutinise the mop.  They brushed and parted and tugged at my hair as they discussed how to ‘fix this’, come on people I can hear what you are saying just because you give me a strong coffee it doesn’t stop my ears working.  Anyway, after what felt like forever, they came up with an action plan.  Like a deer in the headlights or rather a desperate mama in salon lights I agreed to it and booked an appointment.

On Monday it was the day of the appointment.  You will be pleased to hear that the mop has been well and truly sorted, the orange has gone, the split ends have been snipped off and the hair styled.  Despite the mirrors and the bright lights it was a fairly enjoyable experience.  This is mostly because they didn’t talk to me and I was given coffee and those yummy biscuits in the red wrapper, don’t know their name but bloody love them.  I used Double H’s discount card which would have given me a fair whack off the bill but then the stylist mentioned Black Friday deals.  Yep, you guessed it I was sucked in and ended up buying colour maintenance products.  No more orange here people, nope none at all.

Anyway, after over a decade (wow that’s a long time) of dying my hair, I’ve decided enough is enough.  Now that the mops been sorted, it’s about time I stopped dying it.  I am always telling the kids to be themselves so it’s about time I listened to my own advice.  From now on it’s all about the silver sparkly hair, after all, we all need a bit of sparkle in our lives.

Boot Camp

Forget eating excessively at Christmas let’s talk about excessive eating during school holidays.  Every time the kids wanted a snack I had a little something too you see Wee Man is a feeder.  ‘Mama try’ he says, I do protest, sometimes, but then his cheeky wee face gets me and I end up eating whatever he is squashing in his grubby little hand whether it’s been in his mouth or not (that’s love right there).  To be honest, it’s amazing what you will do for a bit of cake or piece of chocolate when you’re meant to be watching what you eat.

So, after the excesses of Half Term it was back to Boot Camp last week.  Not going to lie, it hurt, it really really hurt.  But, I survived last week so went again this week.

It was bloody freezing this morning so I layered up, short sleeve top, long sleeved top, fleece and then a jacket.  I found my woolly hat which has the most ridiculously large bobble on then put on my crappy old leather gloves,  I was snug as a bug in a rug.  I may have been lovely and warm but I was also very very tired.  You see, Wee Man has taken to sleeping in our bed most nights.  And before you ask, yes I do take him back to his own bed but he’s like a boomerang and just keeps on coming back.  I will do anything to get some sleep so I give in and Wee Man stays.

I threw several cups of strong coffee down my neck hoping the caffeine would kick in and make me feel less zombie like.  Then after the usual rush to get the kids out of the house and then the dash (ok, shouty dawdle) down the hill to school I went to Bootcamp. 

The woman who takes the Boot Camp is another military wife let’s call her Boot Camp Girl, she has endless energy which I wish rubbed off on me.  After we had dropped of our kids the Boot campers all congregated by the tennis courts which is the usual meeting place, but Bootcamp Girl had other ideas and led us to the playing fields, the very soogy, very muddy playing fields.  With her usual cheery smile Boot Camp Girl announced we were going to be doing  ‘Winter Challenge 1’, she was really very excited, we were not quite as excited.  As she explained what we were to do I already felt exhausted.  Hill runs combined with intervals in which we were to do hurty moves.  What fresh hell is this?  Do I actually pay money to do this?  The hill running was more plodding, I blamed the muddy field for my lack of speed, in reality I am just sh*t at running.  Then we had the hurty things to do like burpees.  I am sorry but really?  Burpees are horrible and, standby for an overshare here, weirdly they really make me need to pee.  Maybe that’s where the pee bit of the name came from, who knows?

There were other hurty moves which quite frankly nearly broke me.  I mean how is it that I can lift and carry not-so Wee Man for a long time but I can barely do a press up?  I can carry all of the weekly food shop from the car to the house in a oner yet I can’t lunge walk with 4kg for 5 metres without piling in? 

Boot Camp Girl kept telling us to scoop in our abs and control our breathing through the hurty moves.  That’s all very well but I have no abs to scoop in and there was no controlling my breathing, I could barely breathe after the hill plodding.  At one point Bootcamp Girl tried to have a conversation with me and she laughed when I could only say three words at a time before gasping for air.

But I did it, an hour of my kid free time put to good use.  For Braai Boy exercise is part of his job, he’s expected to be fit, he has fitness assessments to pass.  For me it’s about how exercise makes me feel my head is clearer and I am happier when I have done something, anything, even if it is a slow plod, it’s better than nothing. 

I suspect I will hurt tomorrow, no pain no gain and all that.  One things for sure I will go back next week, after all I’ve pre-paid for a term of pain.  Also, Boot Camp Girl added me to her Whats App group ‘Hardcore Wednesday’ there’s no going back now!

Not Another Pumpkin

I survived half term! I’m totally and utterly Halloweened out but I survived.  It was a solo parenting affair as Braai Boy was with his Mistress.  Don’t worry he’s not traded me in for a younger, svelte, less nagging model.  When I talk about his mistress I mean the other love of his life, the Army.  I will give him his due he did try to take one whole day off, he even put his out of office on.  Unfortunately this did not stop emails and phone calls.  Good job I didn’t cancel the catch up with friends that I had organised otherwise I would have been a teeny tiny bit p*ssed off.

I really wish I could be one of those parents that has a gazillion ideas of how to entertain their kids.  You know they type I mean, the organised ones that have jars filled with little bits of paper with activities and day trips on  ‘Go on kids pick from the jar and we will have a lovely day and post pics all over social media of you being smiley happy kids’.  Well that’s not me I’m more ‘If you stay in bed and go straight to sleep I’ll think of something fun to do tomorrow’ I then spend the evening with a glass of wine scouring the internet for stress free stuff to do with the kids.

So, what did we do this half term?  Well, it was Halloween week so obviously there were pumpkins involved.  On Braai Boys non day off we left him at home answering calls and furiously tapping the keyboard.  We went to visit friends.  The activity of the day was pumpkin carving, the kids lost interest in scooping out the slimy insides after about 2 minutes so it was left to 3 very enthusiastic Mums to get the job done (we obviously still had patience and enthusiasm as it was the start of the half term).  The kids requested that we carve the  meanest, scariest, weirdest pumpkins.  Once the kids had ‘drawn’ their desired design on the pumpkins we did our very best to decipher the scrawling black pen.

In the car on the way home Miss Sassy and Wee Man proudly sat with their (MY!) carved pumpkins on their laps.  They were desperate to see them lit up in all their glory.  When we got home I put a candle in each pumpkin and it was at this point that Wee Man totally lost it.  I’m talking snot, tears, unintelligible shouting, all I did was put a candle in a bloody pumpkin.  I finally worked out what he was shouting, apparently that the cyclops I had carved for him, which I thought was pretty scary and a fair representation of his scribble, wasn’t scary enough for him.  In Wee Mans words ‘it’s not MAAAAAAAD Mama, I wanted MAAAAAAAAD’.  So, the next day off we went to get more pumpkins.  Pumpkin carving Round 2.  With a sigh I asked ‘What do you want me to carve?’ both Kids decided they wanted Ninjago (Lego Ninjas for those of you who don’t know).  It took me a while but I did it.  Quite pleased with my Ninja like pumpkins I popped a candle in them, turned off the lights and called the kids through to the kitchen.  Ta Daaaaaaaaaaaa!!!! I shouted with a big smile on my face, feeling smug that we had 2 Ninjago pumpkins.  Wee Man burst into tears, it wasn’t MAD enough.  Mummy fail for the second day on the trot, so I put a bottle of wine in the fridge and the kids in front of the TV.  When they went to bed I sat in the kitchen drinking a semi cold glass of wine with all 5 pumpkins lit, if they weren’t going to enjoy them I bloody well was!

The next day was the day of the Patch Halloween Party.  I set about making pumpkin crispy cakes which were a disaster, they ended up being orangey peachy coloured crispy cakes.  The kids decorated cupcakes which they then ate for lunch.  Then it was time to get ready for the Party.  Miss Sassy was a zombie bride, she asked for me to make her look fierce, I painted her face silver and drew cobwebs on her cheeks.  Wee Man wore a skeleton onesie, and of course he wanted his face painted because Miss Sassy had hers done, I got as far painting his face white then he got bored and ran off.  Basically I made Miss Sassy look like a robot zombie bride that had been got at by spiders and Wee Man just looked ill.

The kids were desperate to get on with the Trick or Treating so once Braai Boy had escaped work and found us at the Patch Party off we went.  The rule was ‘no light or pumpkin no knock’, of course this did not stop the sugar filled kids trying every door they could looking for their next fix.  All we could hear as we went around was parents shouting ‘just take one’, ‘say thank you’, ‘you can’t eat that now’, ‘where’s your brother’, ‘watch out for the step’, ‘do you need a wee’, ‘no I won’t carry you’ and so on.  By half 6 we were done, Miss Sassy’s bucket was full, Wee Man was beyond tired so we headed home.  The bucket of sweets we had left outside our door had been decimated much to Braai Boys disappointment.  Our pumpkins were intact, the kids were tired, wine was in the fridge.  On Halloween we definitely had a winning day!

Half Term week finished as it had started with a Soft Play birthday party.  The first weekend we went to stay with Curly Locks, it was her little girl’s birthday party. The clocks changed on Saturday night, we decided to drink through the extra hour, we didn’t really think that through given we were up at stupid o’clock with the kids who were super excited to go to the soft play party.  The party started at 0930, ouch my head.  Braai Boy was there in body not spirit you see he was plugged into his phone watching his beloved Springboks playing in the Semis of the Rugby World Cup.  The last weekend of half term was pretty much the same story.  This time I took the kids to a birthday party at a dinosaur soft play, I have to say it was brilliant.  I say that, it was brilliant apart from the dance floor which flashed non stop, causing most of us to feel dizzy and slightly sick.  Braai Boy missed out on the flashing dance floor he was in a bar drinking beer watching his team win the Rugby World Cup.  In all honesty I am glad I wasn’t watching the game with him, I am not a great loser and his is not a gracious winner.

And there we are, some winning, some losing and definitely some wining!  Half Term holidays survived, now let’s get to Christmas.