Night Nurse, Annabel Karmel and finding out what on earth a Key Stage One is.

Got whacked by my first cold in about a year and had to hit the Night Nurse hard one night. When the fog cleared the next morning it took me a couple of minutes to realise I was on the opposite side of the bed than the one I’d slipped into a snotty coma on. Husband took delight in informing me that I had been snoring so loudly I’d woken the baby up in the night and he had to roll me away from her Moses basket.

So Solid Crew
Received the frankly terrifying news from the health visitor at the baby weighing clinic that I should start to think about weaning her (my baby. I'm pretty sure the health visitor is already on solids, personally). Immediately went to Mothercare to buy some organic baby rice and the prettiest baby bowl I could find (with a special 'soft-touch' spoon! With no job to go to any more, it’s scary how excited I get by such mind-numbing things). Went home and jumped online to order the Annabel Karmel book. Looked up local organic delivery services. And that was that.

Two days later the book arrived. Felt even more intimidated by that than the first time I read The Contented Little Baby Book. Do wonder if there are enough carrots in the world to puree, though, it has to be said.

A week later, the bowl is still in the packet, Annabel has been 'placed' somewhere I just can't find, and the organic rice is in the back of the food cupboard. Behind a packet of Super Noodles I'm pretty sure was there when we moved in.

But, I will start. Oh yes. The whir of my hand-blender as I puree a thousand organic fruit and veg will be heard from, oooh, the living room. A freezer full of ice-cube sized orange food stuffs will be no longer my dream but my reality. Two hours to get two teaspoons of grub in her and out of my hair will seem like a breeze.

Skool Daze
Oh, and on top of the food fear, I've now started panicking about this education lark. Bamboozled by the Ofsted site and wondering what a Key Stage is and pretty convinced I didn’t have any of those when I was growing up. Unless you count 'realising a fringe is never a good idea' a Key Stage. Because I had one of those.

Also visited a Christmas fair in our local 'little' school. We had visions of a quaint, tea and mince-pies affair with twinsets and the children frolicking in the Heartbeat-esque musty-smelling school hall. Instead, we got Blur on the stereo, nine-year old girls wearing clothes obviously from the Christina Aguilera range at H+M Kids and a bottle of Piri-Piri sauce won from the tombola stall. Worth the £5 spent on tickets, of course.

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