Archive for coffee
Cup Day .. and we have planned the day, a family trip to the beach for fish and chips.
Of course, it doens’t start well … my newish coffee machine, designed for idiots and sleep deprived mothers, whereby it beeps annoyingly and refuses to work when some element of it hasn’t been inserted properly is not as idiot or sleep deprived mother-proof as I’d like.
I get up to the delicious smell of coffee, which is emanating from a largish puddle on the bench in front of the coffee machine and a much larger puddle on the floor.
Which happens when you don’t put the pot in the machine, and the machine not only neglects to tell you that the pot isn’t there by beeping incessantly and annoyingly, but also continues to function despite being potless.
Thankfully, new stainless steel kettle, courtesy of 10th wedding anniversary yesterday, prevents me from kneeling on the floor and licking the coffee up.
It was desperate times.
Of course, the toaster I purchased was chrome, not stainless, so am required to return it to exchange for matching appliance. And today is public holiday, thus stores are closed. Am forced to sip freshly made plunger coffee (a poor second cousin to my machine, but necessarily for the persistent survival of my family members) and observe bread toasting in non matching toaster.
Meanwhile, Chippie is having a tanty because no one will let him eat the LEGO, so he placates himself by emptying they recycle bin into a pile in the middle of my office floor, along with the contents of the “sentimental items” box.
New ‘do is not so much “whispy” as, say, “messy”, but not in a Hugh Granty, perfectly styled way. More along lines of “mum with no time or concept” kind of way.
Then we leave for our day trip, forced to stop the ensuing game of I Spy after round one (Godzilla choosing “T” which is always, tree. Even when it’s not “T”), when Monkey Boy chooses “E”, Godzilla comes up elephant, allegedly seen up the tree from the previous spying and an argument develops.
At which point, am so traumatised by the mornings events that I fall asleep.
Some hours later, we miss participating in the Cup in any manner and head home.
Sunday morning and I’m completley out of coffee beans.
Managed to scrape together a plunger coffee this morning – not ideal, but better than nothing.
I had to break the bad news to the kids. “Kids? We have to go for a walk this morning. To the coffee shop to buy some more beans.”"
I really have no idea why I bothered to continue past walk as as soon as I said the word, the “I don’t want to walk, I hate walking blah blah blah” started up.
Thus the need to explain things clearly and succinctly.
“Mummy has no coffee beans left. If Mummy gets up tomorrow morning and has no coffee, and has to function while she is decaffienated, what do you think will happen? You know what will happen don’t you?
“Ummmm,” Monkey Boy replied politely. Only because he knows what will happen and is too scared to say it out loud for fear it may come true.
“Yes, that’s right,” I continue. “Mummy will go off her nut tomorrow morning and it won’t be fun for anyone, will it?”
He concedes. And repeats it back to me, to be sure we are all clear on what will occur.
“So, you’ll be decaffietated?”
I determine that his is a condition inflicted upon families across Australian (and quite possibly the world) when Mummy wakes up to a house with no coffee – she loses her head at the lack of caffiene.
Still exhausted, flat and just … weird feeling.
I have a conference I’m looking forward to. Or was until earlier this week. Not the conferences fault.
The coffee machine sounds like its gone off, though. Wonder if I managed to put all the pieces together properly; you know water to coffee bean ratio, close all compartments and select the program button …
Wonder if I can have my coffee, tell the hubby and kids I’m going to the conference and go have some quiet time somewhere. Somewhere where I can have a sleep and they bring coffee and wine without me having to ask?
The decision made and the new computer ordered, today was the day my box had to go in to have it’s files moved over to the new PC, and have a good looking at, scan and other techno stuff done to it.
A sad day indeed. Fortunately, only a day that I’d be without my computer. Surely I could survive. I could do that filing that’s been sitting there for … oh, quite some time now. What’s left of it, anyway, after Chippie got to it and ate some.
(I knew I had kids for a reason).
I took the box down, and left, mildly more distressed when I went in, as the new computer will be a day longer than anticipated. The something something wasn’t there and needed to be followed up. They handed over a valium and offered several words of encouragement and sent me off again, with a promise of a phone call as soon as it was ready to pick up.
I retreived the children from school – walking home in the icy cold, as it was far less painful than having no computer and having to do the filing.
As an aside, its amazing what you can find to do when all you are left with to do is the filing …
The children go about their after school duties of whinging, whining and doing everything but unpack their bags, feed cats, and put their shoes somewhere, anywhere but in the frigging doorway. The tragedy struck.
Godzilla, performing his unstacking dishwasher task, without whinging, whining, misbehaving or otherwise procrastinating, breaks my coffee pot! Totally accidentally.
His distraught look as he informed me prevented me from going into a rage, or falling on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry, Mummy. I didn’t mean it. It just broke.”
And that it did ….
I considered just not getting up.
The Grumpy one had to go to work early.
I got less than four hours sleep between bedtime and 3am. And not much after that.
The 3am feed set off the pain in the right boob again. So bad I couldn’t sleep.
Monkey Boy’s bathers were on the line. He has swimming every day except Wednesdays, and one pair of bathers. He needed them this morning. It started raining not only before I got up, but before I actually could get up.
I did the usual yelling at the kids; eat your breakfast, get dressed, put your lunch in your bag, stop whinging at me. I really should just record it, its the same every morning. I could then relax with my coffee while the CD player yelled at them for a bit.
The rain stopped. We left for school. The rain started when we got to the corner.
The only fortunate thing was Chippie had his rain cover on his pram.
We did the usual whinging and complaining on the walk to school. Add on some new complaints with the rain. It rained all the way there.
Two minutes from school and the front wheel of the pram decided it would no longer turn.
I lie. It turned ever so slightly to the left and remained in that position.
I pushed the pram home with one hand, holding the umbrella in the other. I only managed use of the umbrella after wresting it from the hands of my children and convincing them they wouldn’t actually need it at school.
Decided to go via the post office box, a ten minute walk out of the way. Pointless, as it was empty.
I was tire, grumpy, my hand was sore and I was seriously wishing I had stayed in bed.
I figured I’d go for a coffee instead. Well, not ‘go’ for one, coz I didn’t have time and was becoming increasingly worried about remaining out of bed given the morning I’d had.
So, after umming and ah-ing about spending the money, I went and ordered a takeway.
Lo and behold, someone was looking out for me.
Tuesday is $1 coffee day at my favourite cafe (the other one). Hooray.
And it was a nice one, too
Gozilla’s fridge ‘fing’ was even more confusing as I had awoken to a completely Coffee Free Household.
Not good for anyone concerned really.
Well, we had some instant, but that doesn’t count. Worse, I had to take Monkey Boy – and other children – to guitar lessons with me. Completely decaffeinated! Not good at all.
On the way home, I dropped into my coffee shop. No, not cafe, my little shop where I buy my coffee, and they grind it for me just the way I like. Mmmm.
So bad was it, that I didn’t bother trying to bribe the kids with anything, just hauled them out and yelled a lot to head straight for the coffee shop. They know where it is. They get lollies there.
Didn’t event bother with the pram or a dodgy trolley, just carried Chippie. Quite possibly by the left leg only, or upside down or something. Didn’t care. Needed coffee.
Raced in door of shop and screamed at them; somethign about coffee, and now, and stabbings if I don’t get some soon. Fortunately for me, I’m a good customer and they instinctively know what I need. Course, they were helped out by Monkey Boy, who also knows what I need, as he politely informed them that “Mummy needs coffee otherwise …” and he demostrated the otherwise by waving his hands above his head and doing some sort of high pitched scream that sounded remarkably like a demented camel.
A perfect example of what may likely occur if I am to go without coffee much longer.
Arrive home, Chippie screaming for food, me screaming at everyone to shut up and stay out of my way till I have my coffee. Throw Chippie at Monkey Boy to entertain, race to kitchen flick kettle on and rip open bag containing my fresh coffee, which, I might add, had been taunting me with it’s delicious scent the whole way home from the shop.
Once I knew a MUG was forthcoming, I took in my surroundings. There, sitting on the bench was a half made cup of tea.
Which I had obviously started making in a vain attempt to satisfy my desperate needs.
And which wouldn’t have remained half made and sitting on the bench for most of the day had I had my fix in the morning.
Course, if I’d had my fix, I wouldn’t be making a cup of tea, either.
How is it that you can have an event planned for weeks, months even, and your husband neglects to mention that “oh, by the way, I have to work tonight”?
And then, the kids are being perfect little angels (who are you and what have you done with my real kids???) and this close to climbing into bed and falling asleep and the minute the doorbell rings, its like they’ve had this intravenous injection of some kind of red-cordial / caffiene combination?
And your hubby isn’t there to deal with it? Coz he’s now off working?
Right, off to staple kids to their respective beds so can get on with spending money online.
Today is school excursion day.
I put my name down to go. So did Grumpy. I’m not sure why, as I have no idea how he was going to manage it, given he not only had to pick Godzilla up from kinder, but another little boy as well.
He finally said, at the last minute, that, ok, he probably would have to miss out wouldn’t he? As nothing else had been or could now be rearranged? Um. Yes.
Of course, my comments over the last 4 weeks relating to this went unheeded, and we had a very distressed little boy on walking to school, because, not only did he want his dad to come and thought he was coming, but that the teacher had allocated small groups of children to each attending parent, and he had been allocated children. Monkey Boy was in a tizz about how Grumpy’s non-attendance was going to throw the whole plan into complete disarray.
So, a very thoughtful Grumpy informed me “just tell them I’m not coming.”
Um, NO WAY! You created the mess, you didn’t listen to my suggestions, you sort it.
And off I went, walking the kids to school. In the cold, and rain and puddles. Ah, great day for an excursion.
Arrive at school and gather with children and other attending parents to await our instruction as to how the day was going to function.
All organised with military precision. We were allocated children, lists, itenerary and the rest. The teacher read out the children and which parent they were going with. Parents had either two, three or four children.
Very pregnant parent (ie, me) was allocated four. Very thoughtful.
My own, another grade 2 kid, a grade 4 kid who thought she was far too cool to hang out with a parent and two grade 2 kids, and kept buggering off to be with her friend, whom she had clearly been seperated from for a reason, and a special needs kid who “has a tendancy to run off, so you need to keep a close eye on him. Ok?”
Yeah. Thanks. Hilarious.
On that instruction, we head off, some 45 children and 12 adults, for a brisk (and cold wet) walk to the train station, receive frantic, stressed text message from a friend, attempt to corral children into an area, not easy when they all want to stand along the yellow line to watch the train arrive (in some 17 minutes time) and wonder what the ettiquette is regarding texting whilst in supervision of group of children on school excursion, one of whom is too cool and one of whom has at tendency to run away.
Alight train, have everyone insist that I sit, being pregnant and all, my legs have apparently developed some weird condition or have disappeared altogether, making it obvioulsy impossible for me to stand. According to everyone else, that is.
Not easy, given my little group had spread themselves across carriage, mostly thanks to Too Cool Girl, and standing made it easier to keep an eye on them. That, and standing in front of and over the top of Run Away Boy also made it easier for me to prevent him actually running away.
If I was gonna lose anyone, I was at least going to wait until we had commenced the excursion proper, and not lose them right at the start.
The day went well. We stopped for morning tea where coffee was readily available nearby (a Coffee Run was immediately organised, then we could deal with the kids), we head off on first stop, back to cafes for lunch and second part of excursion completed.
The second part consisted of entering shops in China Town and asking questions of the shop keepers as to the origin and meaning behind particular objects. Inevitably, the first shop our little group enters is manned by an old, very Caucasian man with a grumpy streak. My immediate thought was that this was not the point of the exercise and made motion to the children that we would look at another shop. Preferably one that operated by someone of Chinese descent.
That made more sense to me. But the kids had started exploring and were fascinated by a display consisting of jade and gold statuettes of various animals. The tackled the excercise with aplomb, enquiring of the shop keeper as to what the animals meant.
“Oh, that’s them, you know. That bloody January, February thing. You know, Whaddaya call it? That bloody star signs crap.”
Right. Don’t want my group reporting back on that particular subject and quickly usher them out with a “Fabulous, isn’t that fabulous, kids? Lets go check out some other shops and see what else we can find out about. Isn’t that great? Go. NOW!”
Locate some more appropriate stores, gather required information and paraphernalia and head back to the meeting piont to catch the return train home.
Wait around for some other groups, tie shoe laces, cuddle weary kids, salivate at smell of coffee that I know I’m not going to have the time to get, or peace to drink. Once everyone accounted for, we race down the escalator to find our train ready to depart, and the parents set about ensuring 45 kids (we think) and 12 adults get onto the train before it actually does depart.
Someone does head count of children spread over one and a half carriages. In the rush to get down the escalator, I have lost Too Cool Girl and Runaway Boy. More concerned about the latter, I just check with teacher that someone responsible (ie not me) actually does have him, launching some kind of frantic, frenzied search by all adults and most of the kids to see where he is.
Right beside me, apparently.
Arrive back at school just after the bell, cold, wet and tired. Monkey Boy and I well and truly ready for a sleep.
Fortunatley, I had called Grumpy to come pick us up, which he did. Ah, yes, another little person in our possession for the evening. This requires some more Military Precision organising.
I set the three kids and Grumpy up with a DVD, food and a couple of blankets, head off for a hot bath for some 20 minutes and sneak into bed.
Up earlyish, caffeienned and off to the conference, remembering to pack for tonight’s cocktail mingler thing and for overnight.
And tomorrow’s full day, as well.
Lots of meeting and greeting, networking and socialising, sitting and listening, taking notes and asking questions. LOTS to take in and digest.
And that was just lunch. The conference itself had a lot to offer, too.
So much that by the end of the day my brain felt like it was about to explode. Gotta love the reverse however – rather than having to think up valid explanations as to how aeroplanes stay in the sky (and by valid, I mean according to five year old criteria, which is somewhat distant from that of an aviation type person), I was being fed information. And only needed to expand my brain enough to encompass the reasonably doable.
A huge relief.
Still, by the end of the day, I was exhausted. I head back to my hotel room, had a nice bath … what? what’s that noise? Nothing? How can there be silence? Argh! Now I’m scared … put on some comfy clothes (read: jarmies) and sat on the bed to read for a bit. Still had two hours before the cocktail party.
But my eyes kept trying to close. I was going to fall asleep at this rate. Hmmm, room service. Good excuse to order some. That, and I am a bit peckish. And I don’t have to share. And I can sit on the bed and eat it.
So I ordered.
Good thing really, because the knock at the door woke me up. ‘course, it wasn’t till I answered that I realised my ‘comfy’ clothes aren’t all that comfy; my jarmie pants sitting below my bulge and jarmie top resting just above my belly button.
Ah well, better squeeze into my frock for the evening …. right after I just indulge in these chips I don’t have to share!