Happy Anniversary Norm

To celebrate our anniversary I have dug deep into the archives of my computer and found the speech that I did for our wedding.

That’s right folks. I made a speech. I can’t understand why in today’s modern society women remain mute at the wedding that they (and their groom) have probably organised and paid for. So I insisted on giving a speech and here it is.

Today is our wedding anniversary and like every other year we forgot to buy each other a card. Despite talking about how we “really should do something special this year” we have once again been thwarted by Christmas and generally being too busy to take some time out to appreciate each other.

So Norm this post is to tell you that I do appreciate you. I appreciate your sense of humour, your kind heart, your immense work ethic, your encyclopedic knowledge of animals and the fact that you are an amazing Dad. To celebrate our anniversary I have dug deep into the archives of my computer and found the speech that I did for our wedding.

That’s right folks. I made a speech. It may not be traditional but society has moved on and I’m suprised that more women don’t do this. Anyway here it is:

Continue reading “Happy Anniversary Norm”

The missing keys…..

Norm has lost his car keys. This is a MASSIVE problem for me. Because even when I tell him exactly where something is he still can’t find it.

“Dette where are my boots?”

“In the shoe cupboard.”

“No they aren’t”

“Yes they are”

Because they are. Admittedly there are about 100 pairs of other shoes in there too but they are there.

“Oh yeah, under the other ten pairs,” he huffs like it is my fault that we all have feet.

So in respect to the car keys I am clearly going to have to find them because there is no way that he will. I have looked in all of the usual places, then I looked under them and then I looked in the unusual places – next to the toilet, in the bins (gross), in the kids rooms, in Norm’s pockets, in the garden, in all drawers in the house. No keys.

Naturally at the time of seeking the keys I needed to go out and the clock was ticking. I had one hour. Every 15 minutes Norm would call and say helpful things like:

“Have you looked on the sideboard where I always put them?”

I’m not a moron Norm.

Then 15 minutes later:

“Have you looked under the sofa?”

Stick to building state of the art race cars Norm and leave the tricky shit to me.

The keys did not reappear in time for me to go out. “No spare?” asked a friend. This made me smile because Norm wouldn’t buy a spare key. “For £300? No chance,” he said.

I continued to pull the house apart checking all the washing baskets (we have many – too many), under all the beds, in toy boxes (just in case), on bookshelves, even in the Halloween sweet buckets but the more I looked the less convinced I was that the keys were in the house. We had established that Norm was the last person to use them and I suspected that he still had them somewhere. Somewhere like in his pocket. I could imagine him shouting down the phone at me “For the last time Dette they are not in my pocket”while the keys sat there in his pocket laughing at him because they had been there the whole time.

A couple of hours later Norm barged in waving the keys with a huge grin on his face like a kid waves a medal. “They were on the drive Dette. They must have fallen out when I was lighting the pumpkins last night. Feel how cold and wet they are”

Yes they were cold. And wet. But Norm is no fool. He clearly rolled them in the wet grass after he found them where they had been all along. In his pocket.

“They were not in my pocket Dette,” he keeps saying every 5 minutes.

The lady doth protest too much methinks.

keys
The mysterious keys. I plan to hide them from him tomorrow so that he can spend 3 hours searching the house…..

 

Bank holiday morning so far

6:40am “Mummy I got a bogie” yells 3yr old from her bed.

6:30am – husband’s alarm goes off and wakes me up despite the fact that neither of us are working today
6:35am – youngest starts singing/yelling “let it go, let it go….”
6:40 – “Mummy I got a bogie” yells 3yr old who has generally had a face full of snot since spring sprung (hayfever)
6:45 – Go and see 3yr old to wipe her nose. “Listen Mummy. I play my music but not loud,” she says having learned where the volume switch is on the keyboard that she starts pounding at.
6:50 – I climb into her bed hoping to lull her back for half an hour of snoozing. She ignores me and starts bashing a balloon against the wall. “Don’t let it go on floor Mummy”
7:00 – what the hell is that beeping? 7yr old’s digital watch alarm is beeping. And beeping. And beeping.
7:05 – I get up to try and find the sodding watch. 7yr old stays asleep.
7:15 – dog hears all the fun so jumps over baby gate that is supposed to keep him downstairs. He scuttles into my room and gets into my bed. In my spot, which is not even cold yet. Husband hugs dog tenderly, perhaps aware that wife will not be giving tender hugs this morning as she asked him to “turn that bloody alarm off so we don’t all wake up at dawn” yesterday.
7:30 –  7yr old is up. “Stop shouting Georgie I want to go back to sleep” he yells as he makes his way to the bathroom.
7:40 – I look at the dog in my bed. My husband snoozing. 3yr old laughing. 7yr old on the toilet. And I feel pretty lucky really.
7:45 – Coffee time. Except we have run out. Arrrrgggghhhh
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Dette Vs Norm

In building my new blog I’ve been updating my old blogs. Here is the one where we nearly got divorced over swimming…….

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Someone copy this in case I ever go missing.

For some time now I have been trying to get Norm to accompany me on the boring exercise routines that pregnant women are encouraged to carry out. So far he has accompanied me on one walk around the local park where he complained of being bored half way around and sat on a bench waiting for me to finish walking. This obviously led to a massive row and me crying in the street.  Norm then started walking a lot faster to try and get away from me (note from the future: what a tool. I hated him so much that day).

When the pregnancy was first discovered 3 months ago he promised to come swimming once a week. But so far he has not been. To be fair he has been away a lot and not really had much opportunity but he was off work on Monday and therefore able to swim with me. So as soon as he was awake I said “will you come swimming?” and he unenthusiastically said “all right then”

The next few hours passed quickly with me researching an article and Norm playing on his PSP (his new PSP as he punched his old one right in the face for not working properly and broke the screen – effectively killing it) (PSP? I’d forgotten that they even existed! How far technology has come in 7 years). By about midday Norm had graduated onto the Wii and was playing tennis and boxing. That is when the warning signs began.

Norm: “Pass me a towel Dette”

I.e. look how hard I am working on this game.

Then a bit later.

Norm: “My arms are sore now. I have done loads of exercise today.”

I.e There is no need for me to go swimming.

I was ready for him. “We are not swimming for you, we are swimming for the baby. So have a rest ‘cos we are going at 3. And we are walking there.” (have a rest? This concept is hilarious now that we have two children. Come to think of it so is the idea that Norm can have mid week time off where he plays computer games all day)

Norm: “I am not walking home with wet hair. I just had a cold.” (pussy)
Me: “Fine, I will walk up and meet you there.”

By 2.45 I was ready to go. Norm was still playing on the Wii, with no signs that he might leave the house. “I am going to measure the floorboards we need in the spare room now,” he said and put down the Wii controller as I picked up my swimming bag.

I saw red. The bastard was not going to come. He was going to pretend to meet me there and then not turn up. “Fine.” I shouted. “Dont come. I don’t need you. I don’t need you now and I don’t need you when the baby is born.” And I slammed the door so hard the windows shook. (I should have poured my half drunk cup of tea over his Wii)

By the time I got to the leisure centre I had my life as a single mother all planned out. I would live in my house up north. Pay my brother and Mum to babysit and earn lots of money and never be lonely and never miss Norm. And when people asked where the father was I would say “I had to leave him, he wouldn’t come swimming with me.”

Had I overreacted? Probably. But the point was quite serious. I just wanted a bit of support. Norm would hate it if I gained 5 stone and sat on the sofa eating cake.

I had calmed down by the time I got into the water and set off. Swimming is boring but it was nice to be weightless. And then 6 lengths in a miracle happened. Norm got into the pool. Hooray. He does love me after all I thought. He didn’t look very happy to be there, but he had come and after about 10 minutes I think he was enjoying it. It was much less boring and he tried to teach me to do handstands.

After we finished swimming I was very glad I didn’t have to walk home, it was freezing. Norm had redeemed himself and I didn’t have to leave him after all. (phew, the kids quite like him and he is pretty handy when the car breaks down)