New Drawers

 Following my heroic erection of the bunk beds last week, I was clearly deemed fit enough for more flat packing this weekend, lucky me! This time it involved a trip to IKEA, which is something I dread.It is always busy, and especially at weekends. In the pre-children era I used to prefer going mid-week after work, it’s open till 10 O’clock, and around that time you get few browsers.  

The reason I dislike going there, is that the duty of preventing our children/monkeys from climbing all over the displays and dismantling them, normally falls to me. Mrs Zilla tends to wander off, leaving me to deal with the carnage. I’ve had words with her about this before, but no matter what I say she seems oblivious. I feel a more equal share of the containment is due, thus allowing me at least part of the pleasant experience she gets to enjoy. 

It was with a certain amount of trepidation then that we journeyed to the Scandinavian world of furniture. When we arrived at the car park I felt certain that we had entered some sort of parallel universe; the car park was almost empty. In fact there were even Parent & Child spaces available. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be the trauma I dreaded. 

Inside the amount of people reflected the car park. There were no hordes to manoeuvre around and it was all very civilised. The children were also remarkably well behaved, and I only had to threaten them with going to fetch “the man”* twice.  

*“the man” refers to any security guard posted at the entrance to a shop. On entering anywhere I point him out to the children and inform them that his job is to stop thieves and any unruly children. Hence a threat to get “the man” normally instils a fear in them. 

One thing that I do enjoy about IKEA is the wonderful names they give to things, and I especially enjoy trying to spot rude sounding ones, I’m sure I once saw something called DICKUM, although there may be slight creativity on my part there. 

I was also pleasantly surprised by the ease with which the required chest of drawers assembled, no awkward gluing or ill-fitting pieces for once. It actually worked like it was supposed to, which may reveal more about my flat packing skills than I would wish. 

The element of luck continued regarding the space the drawers were to fit in. Naively I had let Mrs Zilla measure the gap available for the furniture. She duly noted it, and when we were comparing dimensions in the shop she pulled out a scrap of paper with the limit prescribed. However in her measuring process, she had committed a school-girl error: she had measured up to the wall, forgetting about our old fashioned skirting boards, which removed another few centimetres from the available space using her measurements.

Luckily the drawers just slid into place, otherwise it could have a disaster, which would have no doubt been my fault somehow!

More excitement tomorrow….

Human Footprint

I watched a quite fascinating programme last night, called Human Footprint. It was a virtual journey through an average human being’s life.

It averaged all the different elements of our lives, and as it stated, there was unlikely to be  one person for whom all the facts applied, but it gave an indication as to our lifestyles and experiences.

For instance, the average person smokes 77,000 cigarettes in their lifetime. I don’t smoke, so somebody out there is smoking my 77,000 for me!

To graphically bring home the scale of these things they put the total number of things  you would consume on screen. So the opening shot was of 15,000 odd pints of milk, representing the amount the average person will consume in a lifetime.

Other numbers included, 4300 and something: the number of times we will make love on average, which works out at an average of twice a week. Someone is getting my share of that as well, which upsets me more than the cigarettes!

One real shocking statistic was that in Britain today, there are more households with 2 cars than those which have 2 novels. I realise that not everyone is a reader, but even so, that left me flabbergasted. I’ve certainly read more than the average of 500 novels per lifetime.

Other stats were quite a revelation: apparently we will all know 10 people who will take their own lives, but only 1 in 3 of us will know someone who is murdered.

I wish I could remember more of the numbers, and I may have to watch a repeat of the programme if I get chance.  

Bits, pieces and flotsam

Godzooky 3 has developed the ability to nod, as in nodding agreement. It’s one of those moments that sort of helps define your personality – he’s learnt to nod first i.e. be positive, rather than shake his head and be negative.

I’m hoping that this is a positive sign for the future!

In the meantime I’m getting a childish kick out of asking him questions, knowing that he will nod in agreement.

e.g. “Godzooky 3, have you made a big smell?” Cue nodding, and then guffaws of laughter from the other kids, which only encourages him to do it all the more, thus creating a cycle of mirth.

Who knew so much fun could be had from such a simple development?

In other news I got a lovely comment to one of my historic posts yesterday:

   https://manofnumbers.wordpress.com/2006/09/27/should-i-add-this-to-my-christmas-list/#comment-3850

Alex must be very pleased with his Monkey Spanker, and I get a warm glow from knowing that I may have helped him achieve some fulfillment!

In the sphere of work I am about to put the cat amongst the pigeons, so to speak. We currently have the auditors in verifying all our transactions and accounting records.

It is becoming very apparent that I am seen as the font of all knowledge, and have been designated the first port of call for all queries.

A new vacancy has come up in a different department, one which I am qualified to do and have the requisite experience. It’s not something that makes me think “Wow, my dream job!”, but it pays more than I currently get, and I fancy putting the frightners on my boss, just to see what sort of reaction I can provoke….

Mwahahahaha

Recycled Bags

No, I’m not referring to ex-girlfriends of mine!

 There seems to be a current trend towards the notion that it is a good idea to re-use supermarket carrier bags, rather than use more and more each visit. They take millions of years to bio-degrade you know.

It’s made me think (which is no bad thing) and I’ve noticed a trend amongst people travelling to work.

People who don’t have a “work bag” and resort to using a shop supplied carrier bag seem to favour a more upmarket brand of bag. Most of them seem to be Selfridges bags – thus showing that although they are using a carrier bag, they are posh enough to shop at such a prestigious store.

Some of these bags have seen better days, so clearly they don’t have mountains of these bags at home, and don’t buy all their food from Selfridges’s Food Hall.

This new penchant for re-using bags should help them maintain this veneer of poshness whilst carrying a battered Sefridges bag.

I look forward to the ultimate in honesty and planet saving: someone carrying a battered Poundland carrier bag to work.

Well

the interweb seems to be playing up, and won’t let me upload pictures, so I’ll be saving those for another day.

 That’s taken the wind out of my blogging sails, as I have nothing else to post about.

Oh, hang on, there’s my mid-life crisis that’s re-surfacing again.

Whilst surfing the aforementioned web, I came across details of a tour that a band I used to love are doing. It’s the 20th anniversary of one of their albums, the one that broke them to a wider audience, and they’re touring it, playing the whole album from start to finish.

I’m tempted to buy a ticket (Mrs Zilla has already ruled herself out of this one) but would it be wallowing in nostalgia? Or should I grasp the opportunity to hear these songs played live again?

I was quite a fan at the time, and them being a local-ish group they played regularly. I once saw them play 3 times in 10 days.

The performances were always full of energy and there was always lots of banter between the audience and the group.

It’s been years since I saw a gig, and I miss the excitement of live music.

Blimey 20 years, it doesn’t seem that long. I have a feeling I may well give into the temptation of this one.

Bunking Up With the Tooth Fairy

(Or my weekend in summary) 

Well my injured hand didn’t cut much mustard with either the Godzookies, or Mrs Zilla when the subject of the bunk beds came up. 

I was facing hostile and sulky faces all round if I didn’t attempt to make the bunk beds.

I really didn’t fancy my chances, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? 

There didn’t seem to be that many pieces of wood to worry about, once I’d divested them of their packaging. How bad could it be? 

Firstly I had to dismantle the current sleeping arrangements and get them out of the way. Friends were happy enough to provide new homes for them.  

I was now committed to completing this project, bad hand or not.  I was grateful for the high ceilings and generous proportions of the bedroom I was working in. Otherwise, I think I would have been out of my depth really quickly.  

Things seemed to be going my way, when I realised there was to be no hammering at all – everything screwed together: therefore no risk of hitting my bad finger. Hooray, fortune was smiling on me. 

But it may well have been a sarcastic, knowing smile.  

My concern for my poor finger meant that I was taking no chances with it, and kept it well out of the way. This proved both a bonus and a problem. I managed to avoid damaging it further, but I was reduced to using my middle finger as a substitute. 

Now, I may be unusual, but my middle fingers are not as dexterous, or strong as my index fingers, and this may be the reason why the screwdriver kept slipping and whacking straight into the middle finger on my left hand. 

Still, there was very little blood and I did manage to get the job finished, with only one slight panic, when I thought I’d put the sides on incorrectly, and the ladder was not going to fit on properly. After a few curses and banging around for a few seconds, panicking that I was going to have to dismantle the whole top bunk, I realised that the manufacturers had taken idiots like me into account, and there were the requisite number of holes on both sides, meaning no major reconstruction was required. 

I regained  my status as household legend (at least in the kids’ eyes) and they were thrilled with results.  

The bunk beds soon had their first extra visitor too. 

Godzooky 1 lost one of his front teeth on Friday, while at school. He was staying at his grandparents’ house that night, and while he was there the Tooth Fairy left him £1. 

On Saturday, while I was busy erecting the bunk beds he was entertaining himself by wobbling his other front tooth. The sort of wobbling until it comes out entertainment.  

So he was keen to put this one under his pillow, so the Tooth Fairy would come again.

She did, and this time he got £2, (it seemed fair to me at the time). By now he was getting quite excited, what with a whole £3 to his name. 

What he did on Sunday morning took me completely by surprise.

We were getting ready to go out to the shops when he came in with his three £1 coins. He then said to us that he wanted to give one each to his brother and sister, so they would all have £1 to spend. 

Godzookies 2 & 3 both found a small toy for their £1, but Godzooky 1 was left unable to find anything his now meagre budget could afford. 

I think the Tooth Fairy may have to bring him something better next time to reward his generous nature. 

Sometimes, just sometimes, I think we may be doing something right raising our children.

It’s Thursday…

so of course I’m injured.

I played football, as usual, last night, and am now injured again.

Is it an age thing, or am I just going through an unlucky spell of injuries?

To be honest I don’t think this one is to do with my age. I just got whacked by the ball when someone took a shot. Unfortunately it hit my hand at a funny angle, and the impact twisted a finger.

It didn’t feel that bad at the time, but this morning my left index finger is swollen to twice it’s normal size, and I’m unable to use it.

Luckily I’m right handed, but it’s amazing how much you take things for granted. Tying shoelaces and even typing this post have revealed how much I need the use of this finger!

With impeccable timing of course we’ve just had bunk beds delivered, and I’m supposed to be building them this weekend. Ah well, I do like a challenge…. anyone care to offer odds on me managing to whack this finger with a hammer?   

Result

Long term visitors may remember that I was having lots of problems with one employee last year.

The problem stemmed from the fact that she was unable to get her work done. She was citing workload issues, and blaming that for her failure to complete tasks.

Being understanding employers, our organisation offered her the chance to get redeployed, rather than go through the process of disciplinary action.

So for the last 5 months she’s been working in a temporary section, but this was coming to an end. Her options were somewhat limited: either pick a permanent job out of the ones we have on offer, or return to my department.

In her absence we’ve had a temporary, agency employee, who doesn’t appear to have had any issue swith the workload, and has in fact recovered the backlog that she had created.

We also uncovered quite serious errors and omissions that this woman had made. If she returned I would have no other option than to instigate an immediate investigation.

Thankfully she has picked a new role, so hopefully she can get herself back on track in a position more suited to her. Her work will have some impact on my role still, but her scope for creating disasters is almost non-existent.

I am a much relieved man.

I would have hated having to see someone get into trouble for something that could easily have been avoided.

If only she had opened her mouth earlier and admitted she couldn’t cope.

Now I just need to find an appropriate replacement.

The best laid plans

and all that.

No post yesterday due to manic work situations.

So my weekend didn’t quite end up as productive as I first thought.

Yes the weather was terrific, an absolute bonus for this time of year.

Unfortunately childrens’ illnesses can strike at the heart of all best plans.

I started off well: got the grass cut and tidied the flower beds.

Godzooky 3 lost his comedy value, as he seemed completely unfazed by the grass. Typical.

Godzooky 2 seemed fine on Friday and then was struck down by a fever on Saturday.

It was one of those that came and went throughout the day. One moment she was like a zombie, and the next running about like a lunatic.

When she was low there was nothing that perked her up, no manner of temptations or activities would rouse her. Then of course two hours later when she felt better she wanted to do those things!

Such is the frustrating life of being a parent. But I wouldn’t change it for anything.

If I’m honest I never really saw myself as a parent, I’d never really though seriously about it. It certainly wasn’t directly planned, and I was worried that I wouldn’t have the patience or the skills to cope with children.

I’ve surprised myself; I’ve changed a lot in the last few years.

I now can’t imagine life without them: they’ve enriched my experience of things, given me more laughs than most and taught me what is really important in life.

The Weekend beckons

and I’m looking forward to getting through a busy afternoon and enjoying the good weather.

I feel as though this weekend I should be sorting the garden out;  Delboy’s Daughter has shamed me into it. She spent the last bank holiday weekend sorting hers out.

It’ll have it’s comedy value too: Godzooky 3’s reaction to being sat on grass. He seems totally bewildered by the texture and sensation of it! So he sort of sits there trapped, until he tries to put his hands down to push himself up, then feels the grass again and sits back down. Priceless stuff to watch.

I’m hoping for a stress free weekend, but I won’t bank on it.