31 May 2007

Drink: yes, please.

At last. Some sensible comment on the whole drinking while pregnant shenanigans. I didn't really drink much at all while pregnant with M - it wasn't so much that I thought it was wrong, more the fact that I really went off the taste, especially of wine. And as that's what I normally drink, it didn't really occur to me to have much else.

Mind, I did rather get to like champagne, although that was probably due to the fact that I had to attend five weddings while the size of a house. Watching as your friends and relatives got steadily plastered was mildly entertaining for the first couple of outings, but got steadily less amusing as time went on. There's also nothing quite like agreeing to be a bridesmaid for your best friend and watching in growing panic as your dress looks smaller and smaller the closer the wedding gets.

Whereas now, I'm happy to knock back whatever wine I can get my hands on. Small children drive you to it, your honour, what with the endless requests for "read a book Mummy" (after a week of reading particularly inane rubbish about cuttings, recalcitrant trucks and patronising Fat Controllers I could throttle Thomas the sodding Tank Engine) and "bounce, Mummy, bounce".

27 May 2007

Head case

Having just spent most of the last 24 hours with one, I can confirm that migraines are hideous.

And the weekend started so well - a gathering of friends for a sausage BBQ on a Northumberland beach in the blazing sunshine (although in typical Bank Holiday Weekend fashion the weather soon degenerated into freak hail showers and rain) followed by lots of ice cream at the delectable Cresswell Ices.

But by that point the headache had set in. Just behind my right eye, where it always lives, with the accompanying feeling of nausea and general nastiness. There's only one cure - lots of paracetemol/codeine/migraleve, one of those ridiculous cooling gel packs that sticks on your forehead, and lying flat in bed.

Didn't work.

Woke up this morning and felt like death warmed up. Which continued for most of the day, despite regular ingestion of pills and cups of tea (lemon and ginger).

I hate it when the day's a washout. Call me a neurotic overachiever, but I like to feel that I've actually done something by the end of the day. In fact I'm completely rubbish at chilling out, whether enforced or otherwise. I'm one of those people who gets through 47 novels a week on holiday, visits all the sights and then still complains that they're bored. If you left me on a beach for 10 days with nothing to read I'd probably self-combust or produce a 500-page plan on How To Take Over The World.

22 May 2007

Arts Corner: I wish

It's Tuesday, it's 10.50pm, and I think I've been staring at a computer screen for far too long. Work is a bit like buses - nothing for a while and then inevitably several things come along at once. Not that I'm complaining, but it does tend to ruin what little social life you can carve out with a small child in tow.

Here's what I'd love to go to the cinema to see:

Here's what I end up watching:

Any Dream Will Do.

Yes, I know, I know. I said I'd never watch reality tv, but I've been hooked by the weeping Josephs and by the fact my 20-month-old daughter loves the sparkly lights and songs, and starts clapping along (note to BBC schedulers, will you stop messing about with the timing of this? If it starts at 8pm it's way too late for bedtime, so can you please put it back at 7pm?).

That's my film critic credentials blown completely away, then. Hey ho.

21 May 2007

Je suis à la maison

As you may have guessed, I'm back.

France was, well, French - warmer, sunnier, and with better coffee/croissants. Why is it that even the pokiest cafe on the grottiest street corner in France can produce a decent espresso, when over here you're lucky if it even tastes vaguely of coffee? Or is that just a Newcastle problem? Actually, I must get round to posting my top tips for coffee houses in the north (don't worry, it's a pretty short list).

Anyway, M and I had a great week. Proper cheese, actual sunshine, several tarte aux pommes, giraffes and 'stipy zebas' at Bordeaux zoo, walks in the countryside past endless vines, and, not, surprisingly, some rather nice wine.

04 May 2007

Not in da house

Gone to France. Back soon.