We got ourselves a sleepwalker.....

Why do kids inherit the strangest things from their parents?
Example: On Friday night, I was comfortably wedged on the sofa with himself at the other end watching Friday Night with JR. BTW, I shouldn't have bothered- who else thought that Daniel Craig just didn't care about Jonathan's bad jokes? It was a waste of an hour of my life.....
But anyway, through my grumbling I could hear this repeated banging, so went to investigate, and now I wish I hadn't. Stood in her bedroom, eyes closed my daughter was pushing an invisible person on her rocking snail! I tried to talk to her, but no response came so I picked her up and put her back in her bed. She immediately fell back into a deep sleep.
I went downstairs and told himself that we have a sleepwalker, which made our resident babysitter (his mum) say she was never ever babysitting said grand-daughter again! Thats a bit harsh!!! So, that night we went to bed thinking in the back of our minds that the sleepwalking wasn't really sleepwalking but a simple tired toddler getting lost on her way out of her bedroom.....yea right!
On Saturday the little toddler of mine decided mums bed was much more comfortable and so spent the night in between us, obviously quashing even the thought of nocturnal fumblings. I'm beginning to think, she never ever wants a baby brother or sister!! Like until she is 18.....and only because it would be a bit odd if your daughter still slept in your bed at 18!?
The sleepwalking wasn't over... she somehow climbed over either her dad or mum or down underneath the duvet and parked herself behind our floor lamp in the corner of our bedroom. This is where her dad found her asleep at approx 6am on Sunday morning!
So we have taken the decision to either a.tie her to her bed or b.put her rails back onto her cotbed making it a baby cot again..... We'll see
but if you see a curly haired toddler walking down the road somenight, calling for her mim mim, could you please turn her round or post her back as shes probably mine!!

overruled

Is that how you spell overruled?? I don't know and frankly I dont care either. I'm angry. Himself has decided that MOTD has been given preference over the factor that is X.
As it still is a very important thing/television programme/event in my quiet life, I am not a happy chappy.
btw Diana is still the best xx

that was the best day

When I get excited about something, should it be a new handbag, describing a lovely meal or even remembering what it was like to lie in bed on a Sunday morning himself always sarcastically asks me, "was that the best day?!!??"
It's a term I've become accustomed to over the eight years of our relationship. My reply is always the same, I wrinkle up my nose and reply "yea yea smart ass." The reason I tell you this random information is because approximately two minutes ago, I worked out that every Monday is my best day. In terms of work anyway, and I can't work out why.....
I spend every Friday off with my daughter, usually spending money I don't have on rubbish like Egyptian cotton towels or an orange coat stand, and always always on lunch with my mum (she pays every other week, it's just worked out like that, we're not that tight). I follow my day off on Friday with another day of on Saturday, where I could be found doing anything from generally nothing (in pj's) to shopping again. But from the moment I get up on Saturday, I structure my laundry like a military operation- first load in means time to get any backed up ironing done. First load in tumble dryer, second load in washing machine...... this goes on and on, until I have three loads waiting on the tumble dryer and a bloody huge pile of ironing to do. It sits and waits until Sunday.
Sunday morning comes, usually with purple lips from the red wine, and the four large blue Ikea bags are lying there on the floor laughing at me because they know what I'm thinking...'For fxxks sake I'm back to work in the morning and I must have this ironing done before I go to bed.' So therefore I spend the last day of my weekend both doing ironing and dreading what's to come they next day. I hate it, 7pm Sunday night I'm like a raging bull, I can't leave the house, that's wasting the last of my freedom, i just want to stay in my own home while I can. It's very sad and writing it down makes me feel like I've kind of got a problem.
But then I realise it's not a problem, it's family life. Work and family life. The work and family life I craved for since I was 11 years old, when my mum and dads version of it, was quite frankly shite!
The Monday comes like it always does I defiantly walk into work, deflated that this day is here again and much to my surprise work my round little bottom off. So this begs the question, why is Monday, the day I dread so productive, the day I could face anything?
anybody?

my life right now?

yes, my life right now consists of X Factor and wooden flooring. Ok, so to you random strangers it may seem like a weird thing but to me right now in my life the X factor is a big deal. And wooden flooring, well today I had my new walnut flooring laid in my living room, this is a big deal... It's my first living room...this may not seem like much, 'woo hoo shes got her own living room' well yes, after two years of writing about homes I've got my own living room!! And it's got an amazing walnut floor on it!! ha ha, the floor is beautiful. I'm very proud of my choice.
As for the X Factor, well, it's brought my love of Girls Aloud out (again...). Right now its between Girl Band and Ruth. I can definetely say Ruth is my fav, her version of Purple Rain was great, nowhere near the man himself, but still great.
Ok, Ruth is in, yay.
It's time to end this semi-drunk post, I'm sure your thoughts are eleswhere and you have found a million spelling mistakes...

exhaustion

I'm too tired to even breathe, let alone think of anything to write here...
Weekends away followed by a gazillion wedding dresses, make for one tired and fed up emma. :(

Major injury No. 2

I have a daughter called Safran. She will be two this Christmas and I'm afraid to say she has inherited all my worst qualities... at age one she was showing a distinct likeness to shoes and anything red! Her latest personality trait is her clumsiness, definitely something she has got from me. Last night whilst watching In The Night Garden she tried to scale a bale of bedsheets my mum had just bought for me. One wrong foot and she was sprawled on the floor after banging her head off the windowsil. Oops. So today as I left her off to nursery she is sporting a large swollen black eye. Perfect.

Other bits....

-My bank account got a battering last night- it was deconstructed bit by bit with the final outcome being that 'you are sh*t with money.' (A comment made by him- also sh*t with money...)

-Tomorrow I am going away for the weekend, to where I don't know, but I've been told to bring my passport.

-To continue with the work related dreams, last night in my sleeping state my workmate Long brought me to her house in a golf buggy. She actually lives (in my dream) in a gated community with it's own prison and airport. Her house being a old airport gate with veranda overlooking the runway! Strange.

I think thats all I can muster today.

Goodbye, do call again x

 

Today I decided to have my very own blog....

Well hello,

My name is Emma and today I decided I wanted my own blog!! 

So here it is , my first post and what a post to start with....

If you know me you should know that I have very strange dreams (a sure sign my mind never rests!)

Tuesday nights dream....

I was shopping with my sister in law Gillian, her hubby and my fiance in a well known Belfast furniture store. Gillian saw a sofa that she loved so I spoke to the shop owner and bartered the price from £2000 down to £1300! Brilliant job! But just then, sofa in arms Joanna Lumley came storming over to us and demanded the sofa was hers so I had to fight her for the sofa. I won. And in turn I also won possession of my new niece, Ella (Gillian's daughter who is only 4 days old)!

Here endeth the first blog and my dream...