I’m also very aware that I have been talking about moving since before Squidge was born. I love my man deeply, wholeheartedly but a quick decision maker he is not. He also loves his little house– his bachelor pad. It’s taken him a long time to come to terms that the house just doesn’t work for us. That we are too old to deal with loud drunks walking by our house at 2am. That people blocking our driveway just really sucks and that dealing with the irritation isn’t neccessary. I think the thing he is mourning the most is realizing that we do not use the neighborhood to it’s full potential. That we are parents now and having really nice trendy pubs and restaurants around the corner is fine and dandy but we hardly ever go to them. The realization that we are not a young professional couple and that the world is no longer our lobster has FINALLY set in. Hurrah!! I’m totally happy being a 30 something SAHM w/ my 40 something man who brings home the lardons!

I also need to take some responsibility for the lack of action. I’ve been trying to come up with alternatives to moving. Trying to figure out how to let my man keep his love shack. It’s the reason we thought about and actually went so far as to get planning permission to extend. The reality was that it was going to cost us more than it was worth. Once we got a few quotes we realized we would not recoup that money when we sold. If we had been adding another bedroom then yes but we aren’t. Did we do it the wrong way around? Should we have gotten quotes before we had plans drawn up? I don’t know. So there you go folks– the good. the bad. the idiotic. Someone please shoot me if we change our minds AGAIN. I don’t think I can handle it. So this weekend we’re off to the local giamondo DIY center to order a new bathroom. We already have the tiles. Yes folks I will be peeing in a bucket in the back garden sometime soon– photos will be posted!! Of the bucket not of me peeing– you pervs!

Because I think my aunt Liliana is having Squidge withdrawals and I expect my mother will call soon to tell me to post photos.

At 19 months my little Squidgyboo should be (according to the ‘experts’) using 50 single words, identify 2 pictures by pointing (one by naming), name 6 body parts and speak and be understood half the time.

Can you see where I’m going here?  FIFTY words?!?!  Holy Jebus that’s a lot.  She chats all.the.time.  but hell if I can understand her.  The only word I understand is stuck.  She gets stuck A LOT.  I know she knows what is going on because I can ask her to get or do something and she does it.  She can put her dishes in the sink when asked, her trash in the bin and retrieve her shoes from the hallway.  So I know she understands but she just refuses to say words.  So tell me not to worry.  Tell me I’m being an idiot.  Tell me she’s going to wake up next week speaking in complete sentences.  I get really frustrated with her when she just looks at me with her big brown eyes when I ask her to say cow.  I KNOW she knows cow because she can pick up the cow card when I ask her to.   

Wal’s back tonight– we’re off to Liverpool to pick him up in a couple of hours.  Yippee!! Oh and I also signed up as a fit friend.  I’ve been totally slacking and it’s already almost the middle of the month!!  Sorry Cami.  I’ve also been trying to figure out how to put this badge on my sidebar– apparently I’m an idiot and I don’t know how so I’ll add it here.

How the hell did she find it??  How the hell did she know what to do with it??  Sorry Madrinha!!

I moved to England for one simple reason.  Wal.  It’s really that simple.  I have never, not once, regretted this decision.

I don’t talk about the negatives of living in England.  Eeeer well except for the bastards that block my driveway– then I’m always negative.  But over all life is good.  I don’t have to worry about health-care, we have National Health Service.  The equipment might not be shiny and top of the line but it works and it won’t put me in the poor house.  I love the NHS!!  Wal and I are able to work it so that I don’t have to work.  Granted I don’t have a car and we live in a wee little house but those are soo insignificant.  Being w/ Squidge every day is soo much more important to me.  Warning: Shameless Christmas wishlist plug… Yes I want a Nikon D40 and some really nice leather boots for Christmas but if I don’t get them I’ll be alright.

Living soo far away from family has it’s drawbacks and benefits.  The benefits being that I can just blow into town and everyone is happy to see me (and when I say me I really mean Squidge) then I blow out of town again before I overstay my welcome.  The drawbacks are that I miss my family.  I miss the family parties.  I miss the silly mundane things, like my mom and aunt Liliana and their Friday trips to the mall.  I really miss those mall trips.  I miss the community of friends my parents have and the events they hold to remember their Portuguese-ness.  I miss dropping by and visiting w/ people who have known me all my life.  One possitive is that I’ve gotten really good at striking up conversations w/ strangers and being an inclusive person.  You have to or you’ll die of loneliness.  

In the spirit of my new blogging openness I’m going to talk about a very painful part of my life.  I’m trying to put this into words but am having a difficult time, please forgive my clumsy bumbling…  Squidge and I don’t have a relationship w/ her English grandparents.  That is to say Wal’s parents made it clear to me when I first moved here that they did not approve and did not want to have anything to do with me.  We thought they would mellow a bit after Squidge was born, sadly they have not.  Squidge will be 18 months on Christmas day.  She will have been a living breathing being for one year and a half-547.863298 days.  She has never seen her grandmother or grandfather.  Their cat died a couple of weeks ago.  I mentioned to Wal that now might be the time to drop by w/ Squidge.  I would stay home as they don’t like me and I don’t really fancy seeing them but do feel that Squidge should have a relationship with them.  I hope that this Christmas they will finally open their hearts and allow Squidge to be a part of their lives. 

So you see, although I blog about all things Squidge I suppose I don’t really blog about ALL.THINGS.SQUIDGE.  No one wants to know about the bad and negative.  I choose to focus on the positive.  I choose not to waste my time hating them.  I choose to think that one day they will meet a little girl that I think this is the bees knees. 

Helping dad put her chair together!

Watching Cbeebies

giggles

It really is their loss…

I googled Squidges name.  Oddly enough there is an 18 y/o girl named who lives in Manchester with the SAME NAME.  Now I think that is weird.  This girl signed an online memorial for a friend that passed away on my birth date.  Odd isn’t it!