Rosie Scribble

This post is dull

Tomorrow I have a three-hour marketing exam that marks the end of the course I started in September. It will be a relief when it is all over, just as it will be a relief when I have got through one last day of solid revision today. (If you see me on Twitter remind me of that I should really be doing!)

So this post is purely for me to act as a reminder of why I should stay focused today and why the studies and the stress that goes with them will all be worth it in the end.

Revision is boring so you may also find this post quite dull (especially the end).

With more qualifications and better job prospects IJ and I may be able to afford a car in the future, any will do, I'm not that fussy.

We may be able to go shopping in New York for my 40th and visit Central Park (in four years time, not yet).

I may be able to buy a fabulous work wardrobe.

 

We may be able to experience new things.

Oh, apologies, not sure where Hugh Jackman popped up from, I must have uploaded the wrong photo.

Er... Sorry Brad, not sure how that happened either.

Well I did say this was a motivational post for me on my day of revision pain. Surely you weren't expecting anything a little more sophisticated.

Solving the problem of boys

IJ has spent the afternoon at a Princesses and Pirates birthday party, dressed for some bizarre reason as a superhero.

I asked her why she did not want to wear one of the numerous princess costumes she has insisted I buy her, and she replied,

"Because I am not a child."

Funny that. She is six years old, as far as I can remember, so I reminded her of that.

"But all the children at the party will be five." She replied. "I am much older. I am going as a superhero in case any of them need saving."

Err... okay.

"Who might they need saving from?" I asked.

"Seven-year-olds, "she replied, "... and boys."

"Don't you like boys?"

"No. I am going to marry a snowman and if it makes me cross I am going to melt it."

I have absolutely no idea how her strange little mind works.

I have either created a psychopath or someone wise beyond her years.

Pillow talk

When this gorgeous cushion arrived from the very nice people at Dorma, it caused quite a stir in our house and even produced some behaviour from one family member that was most unexpected.

 

IJ said it was a cushion that looked like a pillow, so has renamed it a 'pushion'. I was not sure at first what room it was supposed to go in although the name 'Boudoir Cushion' should have given me a clue. I was also astounded at the £30 price tag. Although very luxurious, as the entire Dorma range is, it costs more than my entire bedding collection put together.

My lovely friend Nic said it looked very French and would look perfect in her bedroom. But actually it would fit in nicely with the decor in mine:

Okay, it's not my bedroom, more like my fantasy bedroom although you may have assumed I live in a house like this (cough).

The rather unexpected behaviour came from Granny who stroked and caressed the cushion longingly, then tried to sneak off with it under her arm. When I told her it was going to Nic she looked quite despondent. She told me to take great care of it and look after it, as if she was talking about a small child.

Bless her. The product range is probably aimed more at my mother's market and those with a higher disposable income than me. Our cushion that looks slightly like a pillow is a little lonely sitting on its own, but to reunite it with the rest of it's family would mean paying £200 for a bedspread and £85 for a double duvet cover, to give some examples.

If I could, I would. The Dorma range is fabulous and their website HERE is stunning. I'd certainly add it to a wedding list. In fact my parents had it on theirs.

Maybe that was what the look of longing was all about.

Elvis is in the building

IJ arrived home from school yesterday bursting with excitement about a forthcoming Christmas party being held at our local church.

Apparently, one of her teachers has been filling her in on the guest list, but she seems to have mis-heard him.

"Mummy, Elvis is going to be there!" She announced sounding thrilled.

"Er... what?"

"Elvis is going to be at the party!"

"I don't think so, who told you that?" I'm laughing slightly too hysterically at this point and IJ is looking slightly uncomfortable, as if it is really not that funny.

"It's true. Elvis is going to be there, with Santa."

"I don't think he is, darling."

"Elvis helps Santa carry all his presents. You have heard of Elvis haven't you? There are lots and lots of Elvises"

"Do you mean Elves?"

"Of course I do. Doh!"

Elvis is not in the building. Do not hold the front page!

Thankful on Thanksgiving

Today I'm taking a leaf out of the lovely Tara's book and reflecting on the things I am thankful for, as well as wishing the handful of American readers who have found my corner of the blogosphere, a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Without wanting to sound as if I am writing the rough draft of an academy award acceptance speech, I would like to thank all the special people I have in my life - my (sometimes crazy) friends, my (sometimes challenging) family, my lovely blog friends - those I've met and those I haven't, and the very kind bloggers who left comments on this post and sent me some incredibly moving messages via Twitter. You know who you are, so thank you.

I am thankful for so many things that, at times, those of us in the West fail to appreciate. I'm thankful for the roof over my head, my health (dare I mention the UK healthcare system that has looked after me so well in the past?!), my daughter's health and the fact that here in the UK we can choose to have vaccines if we want to, not all children have that choice, please do remember the Pampers/UNICEF campaign. I make no apologies for mentioning it here. I am thankful that we have so many opportunities here that others haven't, and we can choose the direction our lives take in a way that so many others cannot.

And, more than anything else in the whole world, and the one person I'd sacrifice absolutely everything for is this little girl.

Thank you, my darling, my baby, my life, my future.

I love you.