Before January kicked-in...

Well, with Christmas just a distant memory and with one 12^th of 2012 almost completed, I am busily focusing on the next decent thing to look forward to. Spring.

I’m full of enthusiasm that a BC spring will commence in earnest at the beginning of March and bring with it a significant rise in temperatures, some blazing sunshine and an end to this continual chilly monsoon and occasional deep-freeze.

That’s not an invitation by the way for readers and proper Canadians (as opposed to newbies like myself), to correct me on my naivety. It’s merely a (self-delusional?) ploy to get me through February without reaching for the vodka and a big bowl of chips.

I thought that being a Brit I’d get used to this much rain, but I have to admit that even I’m feeling a bit sodden at the moment.

But apart from the weather I’m feeling quite chipper, thanks to reducing my horrific calorie intake after a shocking bout of over-indulgence throughout December.

Despite normally eating sensibly (barring weekends…), I completely took the brakes off over the silly season and overloaded my poor carcass with copious amounts of stodgy food and what felt like gallons of fermented grape juice.

In fact I would cheerfully admit to going two whole weeks without ever once feeling a genuine hunger pang, purely because I’d strap on the next supersized nosebag before fully digesting the contents of the previous one.

And anyway as soon as January 2nd kicked in (because January 1^st is for serious contemplation of one’s resolutions – and to recuperate from the previous night’s excesses), I took stock once again and began the New Year purge with gusto.

Still I really do hope that we’ve seen the last of the freeze because God knows I can’t stomach another running session in minus 8 as I did last Tuesday night with the Penninsula Runners.

Having joined the group in September last year, I’ve attended nearly every weekly training session and now that I’ve signed up for the Vancouver Sun Run on April 15^th, I’m determined to complete the race without needing the kiss of life and/ or some vigorous defibrillation half-way through it.

And my running comrades are a jolly decent bunch of people so once I’d managed to convince myself to don the spandex and a pair of thick gloves (and because it meant I could get out of putting the children to bed), it was well worth it.

Speaking of children, nos. 3 and 4 managed to comprehensively embarrass me in public on two separate occasions in the last few days which I suppose I should share for two reasons:

1)   I can’t believe I’m the only person with children skilled in the art of parental humiliation and

2)   You might have been one of the legions of shoppers standing behind me as I paid for my groceries last week who heard no. 3 say in her ‘outside’ voice: ‘Mmmmmm, Mumma, your coat smells of alcohol…!’

I could actually feel my face start to burn as I tried desperately to think of some breezy retort that could explain why my coat might smell of booze (at any time) but particularly at 10am on a Thursday morning. But I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just stood there blushing and hoped the people behind me were either deaf or dumb.

For the record: my coat smelt of perfume – Coco Mademoiselle to be exact – but last week I’d made the mistake of lazily answering no.2′s question of: ‘what’s in perfume?’ with, ‘lots of things and probably some alcohol.’ But who was going to care once the immortal words had been bellowed out into the public ether by my little foghorn of a daughter?

And if that wasn’t enough for one week, a trip to the T&T supermarket a few days later was almost as bad when no.4 noticed a little person going about their shopping, and stopped dead in his tracks, stared in utter amazement as he pointed and said very loudly: ‘look at that little man!’

I should mention that it was obviously the first time my three-year-old had ever clapped eyes on a little person, but honestly, why did this have to happen to me twice in one week?

And finally, I’ll pen off with a couple of interesting articles I read this week for anyone still with me:

Firstly, a link to a great website I stumbled across called Parenting.com (the new school years edition), that published a list of utterly useless and over-priced gadgets aimed at parting neurotic/ gullible parents with their hard earned cash!

Ridiculous Parenting Products

And my favourite story of the last few days that if you’re familiar with English comedy show, Little Britain, then you’ll probably chortle at this real-life Vicky Pollard (and mother-of-four) who contacted the national press in the UK after she was banned from all her local nightclubs for being too old to wear her favourite skimpy dresses. It’s hilarious and well worth reading the whole article…

A contemporary English Rose, in the style of Little Britain…