Funniest thing…BBC radio newcastle producer just called me to schedule a phone interview for tomorrow about how I “handle finding something my kids to do every single day” for the summer.

Yep. Thats what she said.

“Mrs Peddie, you have FOUR KIDS. (Yes. Trust me. She said it in capslock.) “How do you handle finding something for them to do every single day during the summer holidays?”

When I said “I dont. We stay home for alot of it.” it blew her mind. She literally went mute and could not think of a reply. Finally she started muttering “Oh, thats verrrrrry interrestinggggg! Fascinatinggggg!” in her best In Depth Journalist Voice.

She could not process that we stay home and color and paint and sing and read and play outdoors and bake and craft and blow bubbles. She just kept saying “But, every day?”

Yes.

For probably three weeks of it in total: We.  Stay. Home.

We do, of course take a trip or two when Steffen is on vacation or we go away for a weekend. He takes two weeks off, then we usually take a week at the castle, just me and the kids. We do the odd day out shopping or at the movies, but those activities probably account for three days of our  hometime. Yeah it was a bit tougher in the states, because its a 10 or 12 week break. But here, its only six weeks. Who can’t sort out their own kids for SIX WEEKS????

Then I further fried her synapses by telling her my older boys are expected to do their chores and then, for the most part, entertain themselves if they dont want to join in trips to the park, or whatever else we are doing. I try to work up some sort of a summer project for the bigs, loosely related to what I am doing for the littles. (For example, this year we are working on our Birdwatching Life Lists)  Yes, they play video games to a degree, but they also read, cook, craft, draw, build, play outdoors, go out on bikes, go to the library, go see friends, or make videos and animations with their little flip camera and their computer. Neither of them have facebook, or twitter, or any of that junk. We have memberships the RSPB, The National Trust and English Heritage. We do those things, and research fun things online. Above all, They go out and be kids.

She could just could not process this. To be fair, she is very young with no kids of her own, and she grew up in one of those families that you see around every corner nowadays. They obtain their worth and validation by showing off what they can buy, get, or do for their kids. She spent her summers at “horse camp” and her brother spent his at “football and rugby camp”. She hated horses and he hated football and rugby. She told me so.

To torture her poor Non-Mom brain even further, I explained that as a former teacher, I run my days alot like a school day. In the morning we get up and have a look at the weather. We talk about the date, and anything special we have coming up, and how many days til school starts again. Then we eat breakfast, then have a story for the littles and reading time for the bigs. The bigs can read what they like. I try to pick a summer theme for the littles. This year its trees and insects and water. Then they can either play or watch tv for about 40 minutes, or if I have to go out this is the time of day we go. After lunch we have an hour (sometimes two! I don’t end it voluntarily…lol) of “quiet time”. Sometimes they fall asleep, sometimes they don’t. (Even the big boys have been known to conk out). Then we try to do art of some desciption and play outside in the afternoon. In the evenings, they are on their own. They have these nifty things called…toys!

Finally she asked me, in hushed wonderment: “But what if it rains?”

Well, who ever said there was anything wrong with a day of jammies, movies, popcorn, barbies, lego, and baking? Sheesh, lady!

See?

I don’t get the big deal.

It comes down to this: If we take responsibility for a little forward planning, we will be ok for the summer. Kids should not have to be actively entertained with some big event every single day-or even on most days.

Let me say that again, in bold type this time:

You are not a bad parent if you don’t take your kids out to “Do Something” every single day!

A) EXHAUSTING, for them and for Mom or Dad, and B) they never learn to entertain themselves, and look around them. If a kid has every moment of their day planned for them, they never see anything except through a car window on the way to or from some event. In essence they don’t learn to play.
They don’t learn to appreciate days out at the movies or whatever, as special. They just think of it as a (very expensive!) way to pass the time. Its called summer break for a reason. You are not depriving them if you don’t plan every single second of that 43 days that they are home. Their days are so rigidly structured, stressful, and intense for eight months of the year, why, when summer comes, cant we just let them have a break for heavens sake? Take the time to teach them things they wont learn in school. How to build a fire. How to grow a tomato. How to hang out the washing. Make a pancake. Fold an origami frog. Sew. Take photographs. Be with them. Get to know them again, after eight months of hardly ever seeing them. Let the poor little devils breathe and decompress.

Let them be kids.
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Disclaimer:
Now, let me be clear, I totally understand that six weeks in the summer and the two weeks at Christmas are tough to sort out for parents who must work. I honestly don’t know what on Earth I would do for the summers if I worked full time-Steffen works incredibly hard so that it isn’t an issue for our family. So, I can’t address that issue here. I daresay I would be hung from my own main mast if I expressed my real opinion, which is, “Until you know how you would sort that out, maybe don’t start your family.” Harsh? Maybe. But its personal responsibility, and part of being a parent is thinking about how you are going to care for that child, long before it is born-and frankly before it is conceived, and for every single day of its life with you as its caregiver. But if you are in a place where you absolutely must work maybe it isn’t time to have kids yet. If you are working because you want to, then you can probably afford summer daycare.  If you don’t plan your pregnancy, reach out-there are options for help.

I just do not get the whole “Fifty Shades of Grey” thing and I am now finished with the three-in under a week.

First, I don’t think it’s at all well crafted. Alot of the same phrases are really used to death, and repetition is the death knell of good erotica. It’s written in a fairly adolescent style that I find distracting. To me, it just flat out isn’t intelligent enough. “Ah!” and “Oh baby!” over and over, just do not good erotica make. Not to me anyway. Second, at the risk of sounding judgemental, the idea of that sort of relationship being appealing even in fantasyland is just incomprehensible to me. Maybe because I had such an abusive Father. But the first man that told me I couldn’t go out for drinks with a friend would get kicked to the bloody curb *after* I kicked him square in the nuts. They have the same fights and the same dialogue over and over and overrrrrr ad nauseum. Christians character is dark, but at least has some meat on his fictional bones. Ana is just annoying as hell. She is immature spoiled, overthinks, under reacts and whines. Alot. I just. Do. Not. Get. The. Appeal.

I settled on a Kodak, because I’ve always had great luck with anything from the company. (My 12 year old is still shooting pics on my old digital Kodak-it just won’t die.) I knew I wanted wireless too, and it was tough sorting out something that could print directly from all our different mobile platforms (I am an iGirl and hubby and son are Android loyal) with anything other than a Kodak. I agonized over the money, as I am wont to do, but am so glad now that I did it. I hemmed and hawed between the Kodak Hero 5.1 and the 7.1, and boy am I glad I went for the 7.1. I think it was really worth the extra hundred bucks. Wireless setup literally took four minutes from start to finish. (Yes, I timed it. I’m a geek that way.) The apps from Kodak for my iPhone and iPad are FREE as is the Android app for the Man. I printed from my phone perfectly the first time. I’ve never had a NON Apple product that worked properly, quickly, and easily OUT OF THE BOX. Ever.

It even claims to turn two photos into one 3D photo, and the printer came packaged with 3d glasses. (I’m dubious, but will let you know.) ;D

(I say this is for my friend Aubrey for the simple reason that I know how she loves her nail polish!)

This is the miracle stuff:

This is my mani after ten days!

GO BUY IT!!

This was a one day thing, for which my husband prepared as if it were a month long expedition to the north pole. He planned what he needed to iron and pack for a week beforehand. Understandably, he was like a chimpanzee on speed. The ugly truth is that I was sick of hearing about it before he even left.

He left Monday night and within an hour of him arriving, he called to tell me that my stepson had fallen and broken his hip and was on his way into emergency surgery. Not a good omen for the beginning of the thing, eh? Then we had a fight. Batting a thousand.

Anyway, all ended up going well, both with the readthroughs and with my stepsons surgery. (He is already home, thats how well it went…) and as we do we talked through why we were fighting and why I kind of wanted to stab him eleven times in his left eye.

But something about all this television/fame stuff has bothered me ever since we found out the show was definitely a go.

My husband has been a stand up comedian since he was 16 years old. Thats about twenty four years now. I have been part of his life for only about ten of those years in total. Until now I never pondered where I fit into that part of his world. But finding out that “Hebburn” had been commissioned for six episodes got me thinking.

I was bothered and I have not, for the life of me, been able to figure out why.

First I thought it might be that I was worried about the potential fame. I mean, obviously, the BBC has pretty strong feelings that it will be a hit. Otherwise they would not have put it on the BBC at all, let alone BBC 2 in a prime time slot*
It is also obviously pretty firm that everyone at the BBC likes not only my husband and his acting, but his character as well. He is only one of three people who were not recast from the pilot, his part has been bulked up and, as silly as it sounds, he is only one of two characters who have not had their look or name changed repeatedly since the pilot. These are all pretty good indicators of confidence that they have a hit on their hands. Which means people shouting “HOW MAN BIG KEEF MAN!” at him on the street. Strangers stopping him to get autographs and asking if he is “him off the telly”. I wasn’t sure I like the idea of that happening when I was with him. Still not sure I do. I don’t like attention and I married the wrong man to live quietly in a little suburb of Newcastle.

Yesterday it hit me. I know what is the matter. Part of me thought this would be fun for *me* too. I thought that if Steffen gets really famous that I would be like the First Lady. (Figuratively of course. I will never have arms or an arse like Michelle Bloody Gorgeous Obama!) I would get to go along in the plane to all the cool places, and I would get to move into the White House with him, and redecorate it how I want, and everyone would call me “Ma’am”. Most importantly I could use that as a springboard for talking about issues that are important to ME and bring some support and good to my personal community.

Unfortunately, I have found out something. I am going to be viewed more as Prince Phillip. (Again, figuratively. I don’t have a penis, and I have multiple queens in my life rather than just the One.)
Anyway, I will be staying at home with the kids and the dogs and go hunting maybe. Oh, I may get to put on my suit and show up occasionally at functions only because they cant *really* stop him from bringing me. But I will still have to walk slightly behind him and smile when I am told to. I may get to sit in the carriage next to him once in awhile but only grudgingly and only because the The Queen throws a hissy fit and demands it.

Oh well. I suppose its better than a kick in the balls. I will let you know how it goes.

I first got involved in online fandom when the concept of the Lord of the Rings being made into movies became a reality. I fell in immediately with a group of fantastic like-minded folk, many of whom I still interact with on a fairly regular basis. I became a moderator at a website, and for the first time in my life, I was part of something. I mattered, I was important. That’s a heady drug to someone like me-particularly since I was at that point, mired in a period of time when I mattered to absolutley no one in my personal life, except my son. My life was all about damage control and trying to keep a bad situation from getting worse (didn’t work, alas.)

Then reality hit. The first major Fracas I became embroiled in exhausted me. But I plugged onward, amid the accusations, the pettiness and the inability for several people to hear anyone elses side but their own. I was told I was excluding people, that I was being elitest, and that I was part of an Inner Circle that was accused of being exclusive. I have to tell you, that was a first for me. This happened to me several times over the ensuing years, at different forums, and with different fandoms as well as on Facebook and Twitter.

I began to get a feeling of dread when I sat down in front of the computer, instead of excitement. I began to feel I had to blog every day, or at least several times a week in order to “not offend anyone!”. I was commenting on blogs and in forums just to say “I agree” or to make sure no one thought I was “ignoring them”. A portion of my friends lists (ironically, the ones I had the least in common with, or cared the least about) began to expect explanations about why I hadn’t been online for a few days. I was getting emails from people, expressing concern I knew they didn’t really feel, about my whereabouts. They were just nosy and hoping to be made privy to some pain of mine. At this point in my life, I am a stay at home mom of three year old twins. The internet and Facebook is one of my main ways of communicating with people who aren’t three, don’t eat with their fingers, and are night time potty trained. Or so I thought. The day I had the last straw was when I realized that my preschoolers are more mature and had better social skills than some of these vibe-sucking, walking neurons I was “friends” with, or was conversing with in forums or on Facebook.

I, who so jealously cherished my fantasy world, of Elves, Hobbits, Time Lords, and Vulcans, began to think. “CHRIST, people. IT’S A BOOK (movie/tv show/online game/whatever) or “Wow, folks. Its Facebook. Go for a WALK ffs!”

So.

I stopped.

Sure, it was a big time of change in my life, too. I was dealing with Steffens career really taking off, and the potential for huge fame. I had pretty much eliminated blood family from my life except for one or two notable exceptions. But in internet terms I pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. Overnight. With no explanations. (Even to some folks who assuredly deserved one-which I felt bad about later, and still kind of do.) I just. Stopped. I deleted my Facebook and Twitter accounts. And it was a good few months before I came back. There is a huge difference now in the way I use the internet, and how I interact with my fandoms, and play the games and use Social Media. I think with the gaming thing, Warcraft particularly, it’s partially that I’m so much happier and so I feel less need for escapism. But the interactions with the toxic people have for the most part, stopped. I post to things when I want to, not because I feel I owe anyone anything, and I’ve decided I’ll never moderate another anything, ever. If it gets hairy in a forum or on Facebook I back out until it goes away, or avoid the thread altogether. These days I don’t blog much about my personal life. Its generally about crafting or sewing, with only the odd entry about our actual life.
It’s not that I’m scared of confrontation. I’m all for it, in fact, but only in RL terms, when it *needs* to happen. I HAVE to yell at the gas company, my sons’ teacher, my husbands co-comedians, etc, etc.

I don’t HAVE to yell at anyone about fandom or indeed about frickin’ FACEBOOK! (I still havent gone back to Twitter and dont plan to.)

I don’t have to defend the fact that even though Chris Eccleston is a bit of a pompous prima donna he was my favorite Doctor. I don’t have to explain WHY I think Orlando Bloom is a moron, and not the best Legolas he could have been, or why I don’t care one way or the other whether Sam and Frodo were gay. By the same token I don’t have to justify my political or social views, or the behavior of my children on Facebook to so called family members who haven’t seen me since I was three and probably wouldn’t recognize me on the street. I don’t think anyone is any more or less qualified to discuss tv shows, books, movies, games, than anyone else. I used to. Not now.
Most fans are so embroiled in the fantasy world of their chosen fandom that they forget two things:

A) It’s not real.

No, really. It’s not. I promise.

B) Other people love it just as much as they do, and have as much right to enjoy it in whatever way they wish just as they do.

The lack of perspective, and the often times tenuous grasp of reality that most fans have, frankly, scares me. Well, that and it makes me a little sad, that there are people who so completely live their life online, that when they get off the computer they find they have no REAL life left to live. These are the people that have given us fans the image of being smelly, greasy nerds who never come out of our Mother’s basements except to get more Doritoes and Mountain Dew. (Or Irn Bru and Wotsits, depending on your country of origin. )
Facebook stalkers seem to forget that I don’t put all of my life up in that status bar anymore than I would publish every detail of my life in the newspaper, so they are NEVER working with all the information if my Facebook timeline is the only contact they have with my. The people who matter, the real life friends, and the online ones who message me privately (some of whom know me better than my own blood family and local friends) those who call, and email, and send packages and remember my kids birthdays…they are they ones who are qualified to comment on the more personal posts on Facebook because they are the ones who are operating with ALL the facts.

So, to my lovely friend, even though I’ve already said it to you once, just remember: I stopped. And nobody died. Fandom /the internet community is one of those things that will endure until the end of time. You can step back and it will still be there, should you decide you’re ready to return. (It’s a whole “wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey thing” ) I just think the key is assigning it it’s proper place and perspective in your life and making sure it stays there.

‘Nuff said. Just don’t touch the red button, and always know where the little shop is located. Cause you’re always safe in a little shop.

One of my most beloved possessions is my kitchen table and 8 matching chairs. Its huge, it’s solid oak, and it seats my whole tribe comfortably. But more than that, it was a gift from my Father in Law. He’s one of my top four favorite guys. Cheesy as it sounds, that table really is the heart of our home.  I’d love to be able to leave it uncovered all the time with all that beautiful oak gleaming away in the sun. I don’t have the guts to do it though, because not only is it in our conservatory where the sun would just totally bleach it into oblivion, but, I have twin toddlers an 11 year old boy and a 12 year old boy. We still eat like piglets and we also paint, glue, and a million other messy things at that table. Plus, I sew at one end of it. Plus…boys are gross.  So it stays well and truly covered up. Like this:(Including the Diet Coke can. I have twins, and I don’t drink. I gotta have something.)

So, the other issue we have is with the chairs getting trashed. I tried the age old trick of just putting a tee shirt over the back of the chair, but we were still having problems with gunge (somehow? How??) getting *under* the booster seats. I would have to pull the whole thing apart every day, three times a day, to clean it in order to avoid permanent stains.(Pasta sauce being the worst offender. That stuff just leaches into wood!)

So, I came up with the Quick N’ Dirty Chair Cover.

You’ll need the following measurements:   The width of the *widest* part of your chair plus one inch, and the length from the floor up over the chair, down the back and to the floor again. In other words, take your tape measure from the floor to the front of the seat, over the seat to the chair back, up and over the chair back, and down to the floor again.

Supplies:

Enough oilcloth or fabric to meet your measurements above.I used an old tablecloth that was just stained enough that I didn’t want to use it where it was visible any more. It doesn’t have to be expensive. (Read: You don’t have to buy Cath Kidston unless you have that kind of money.) If you’re in the UK, I get all my oilcloth from Blue Jigsaw. They’ve got the best prices and they’ll cut you to order, and it’s usually there within 24 hours.

A grommit setting tool and about six grommits (possibly more if you have those chairs with a super tall ladder back.) You can get these at any good fabric store, and even at some camping stores.

Ribbon or cord (A few yards just to be safe)

Method:

Now, before I even start let me tell you two things. Oilcloth is really great for this. Better than fabric in my opinion because you can just wipe the oilcloth down, and nothing will seep through. BUT…

DO NOT ATTEMPT TO USE OILCLOTH FOR THIS PROJECT IF YOUR BOOSTER SEATS DO NOT ATTACH TO YOUR CHAIR WITH STRAPS IN SOME WAY.  Oilcloth is slick as cow snot in wintertime, and if your booster seat does not strap onto your chairs in some way, the booster seat could slide off and injure your child. If your seat does not have a securing mechanism, simply use a non slick fabric. (In other words, not something like satin. I know, who would cover a kids chair in satin, but I’ve seen weirder things. Use something with some friction to it, like a heavy weight cotton.) I’ve included a photo of how my booster seat attaches to my chair, so you can see what I mean. Obviously, if your kids are old enough to just be kneeling on the chairs, you still need to be careful they don’t slip.This is my chair lying on it’s back, showing that the seat straps buckle under the bottom of the chair. (Removes OSHA/Health and Safety hat)

If you’ve never used a grommit setter, I’m telling you, they are the handiest thing in my sewing basket aside from my bias tape maker. Seriously. Putting them into fabric is a little more labor intensive than putting them into the oilcloth, but not by much. This is mine, so you know what you’re looking for. They aren’t expensive. Mine was about six pounds and included a little bag of grommits.

This is really and truly all there is to it: 

Drape the oilcloth over the chair, and arrange it how you want it. Use some clothes pins to hold it together at the sides along the chair back while you work. (Don’t use pins in oilcloth. They leave holes. Ask me how I learned that one.) 

Following the instructions that came with your grommit setter, insert three (or more if you have tall chairs) grommits through *both* layers of oilcloth along each side of your chairback.  You can also use six in each side, and put them seperately in each layer then use ribbon to tie them together, but I found just putting them through both layers was easier, and made the cover hang more neatly. Don’t put them in too far from the edge, because you do want to be able to just lift this off if you need too. (Obviously not an issue if you are tying them together.) 

Now, if you’ve done them through both layers, you can stop there and be done, or you can add some ribbons or cord through the holes just for the Pretty Factor.

And that’s it. Yes, really. Mine took me about an hour, from cutting to pushing the chair back into the table. And that was to make two.

(Please do ignore the horrific state of the booster seat. We’ve had them two years and they just don’t come any cleaner than that.)

I did some from fabric for the older (but only slightly less messy) boys chairs.  I used fabric from some drapes Steffen had when I moved in that I promptly removed from the windows. (Well. His ex had picked them out. I don’t care if they’d cost £3000.00 bucks, they were coming *down*.)

I sewed up the sides instead of using grommits.

(Americans, that white thing’s my radiator. There’s your proof that I live in England.)

Anyway, I was “dead chuffed” as my husband would say, with how both versions turned out. They looked alot nicer than I thought they would, because admittedly my had was in a place of “Functional-but-not-dreadful-to-look-at” and I actually *got* “Functional-and-cute”! Bonus! 

If you have the time (I did not) and the extra dough (I also did not) you could really tart these up without adding too much work. You could even make different ones for the seasons, or the holidays.

If you do these, send  me pics! I’d love to see!