Operation Ouch

I'm not gonna deny it, I thought by the time I hit middle-age I'd be reaping the financial benefits of landing a highly trained professional as a husband.

But alas, life had a more frugal existance in store for me. My naive young-self eventually gave way to my more mature responsible-self and has since embraced a life of bargain hunting and money saving. Every opportunity to make/save a few quid is celebrated. Sometimes such opportunities present us with a bit of a quandary;

Do we spend more and invest in something that will last us longer?

Would we prefer to save time over money and pay someone to do it?

And our most recent dilemma; Would we rather risk life and limb or get the professionals in?

A continual scratching sound in the ceiling of our bathroom had alerted us to the presence of something that was living in in the cavity betweeen our ceiling and roof. Further investigations (AC looked outside) revealed we had a wasps nest. AC formulated a plan to rid us of our lodgers. The plan involved climbing onto our roof through the skylight, shimmying one's way upto the outer edges of the roof and then fumigating them with ant powder.

The only problem with AC's plan was his extreme fear of wasps. And heights.

Unable to come up with any alternative solution (see video below), I put Operation Ouch into motion.

Donned in my PPE, I revelled in the opportunity to out do my husband my role as Family Fummigator.

"Your PPE isn't going to protect you if you
if you fall off the roof" Grandma

Grandma was right, although eager to get one up on my oldest dependant, I was very mindful of my other four. I used the utmost caution as I made my way towards the entrance of the wasps nest, my leg hooked inside as I made my way from bathroom to roof, and kept an arms length away form the roof's edge. AC's contributions were limited to shouting instructions from the ground.

Sam, Sam, The Funny Old Man

My Grandad's legendary status is perpetuated further still by the fact that he achieved it whilst still alive. As a youngster I knew that Grandad could not be equalled in knowledge, strength, or ability. My childhood was jammed packed with proof of just how awesome this man was.

An engineer by profession, Grandad was a man of sagacity, and he was always on standby when we had a problem. He helped us to find answers and reach conclusions under the vigor of our own mind. He understood the worth of self sufficiency and wanted to equip us with life-skills.

Having a healthy body was up there on Grandads list of important attributes. Upon every visit to Gran & Grandad's, Grandad would present himself for a punching. We children lined up awaiting our turn to thrust our fists into his stomach as hard as we could, all the while Grandad goading us to try harder.
And, if ever something needed fixing, making, or pealing, he was onto it. With the aid of his trusted penknife no diy task was beyond his reach.

However, it didn't suffice for Grandad to display such prodigious traits alone, he wanted to instill such important qualities within his grandchildren. Having attained such stature himself, the rest of his life was dedicated to helping us reach such heights too.

It's only as an adult, with the experience of time, that I can recognise and fully appreciate the love and dedication that Grandad gave us. I now know that he cannot be surpassed in devotion, fervency or love.

Grandad Sam
1920 - 2013

Roma

2014 saw the celebration of our 10 year wedding anniversary. The day itself was overshadowed by the general hubbub of our busy life together.

The only way to escape the bustle of our daily lives and give the occasion its due glorification was to take an extended child-free weekend away, or so AC said.

A child-free weekend for us meant a child-full weekend for Team Gran & Poppy. Confident in their child-minding capabilities they readily accepted the challenge of 4 kids for 4 days, allowing us to make definitive plans in preparation for our 10 year celebratory tour of ROME! 

The nearer the occasion drew the more excited we grew. Like the A-Bomb counting down the days till his next birthday, we began the countdown to our highly anticipated time away.

"This time next month we'll be eating ice-cream for breakfast"

"This time next week we'll be sightseeing by chariot"
"This time tomorrow we'll be shaking hands with the Pope"

That time at the airport just before we boarded the plane with our neighbours.

Looking to the heavens to be saved from my husbands fastidious examination of
every ecclesiastical artifact in Rome.

That time Aaron had a run in with the local law enforcement.

That time we visited the Trevi Fountain and it was hidden by scaffolding.

Aaron checked it out on Rightmove. It wasn't To Let.

That time at the Colosseum when local criminals provided the entertainment. 

That time on the Spanish steps.

That time AC caused a scene with his exhibitionist tendencies.

As opulent and breathtaking as the city was, nothing is as attractive or as awe inspiring as the creations we made ourselves.  Dearly missing our 4 little darlings (and concerned for the toll we knew they would be taking on Team GP) we were just as excited for our departure home as we were for our arrival in Rome.

Long Time, No Blog.

Both AC and I are from large families which was probably a contributing factor in our desire to have a large family ourselves. Offspring - I wanted at least six. Whilst AC never committed to a figure he seemed comfortable enough with statements such as 'Imagine having to buy a mini bus to fit all our children in'.

All these much thought and talked about plans (mostly by myself) lasted only until we became pregnant for the first time. Nothing could have prepared us for the horrendousness that lay ahead. The physical and emotional turmoil that persisted for those long 9 months made life almost unbearable.  Rendered completely useless by the parasite growing within, I would vow to never put myself through this again.

However! The only emotions that could ever overpower my distaste for pregnancy would be my fervent desire to have a family and be a Mother. And with the arrival of each of our 4 babies, what seemed to have been the greatest of sacrifices seemed then to become the greatest of privileges.

The H-Bomb, born 18 April 2013, weighing 7lb 2oz.

The H-Bomb aged 4 months.

Dribbly Blood

Last week whilst training for the Olympics (doing laps around the dinning room table) The A-Bombs head finally met it's match. The radiator was able to do what concrete slabs, an enforced glass window-screen, and Shemily's aggressive tendencies could not.

The A-Bomb fell head first into the radiator and cut his head open: blood was gushing, tears were streaming, and he was screaming. This distressed Missy greatly. It pained her to see her brother in such a state. All our attempts to soothe him were in vain. So it was with great sincerity and compassion, with tears of her own, that Missy declared 'I would take this pain and have it for you if I could'. And she meant it.
The sentiment was lost on the A-Bomb who understandably couldn't think about much more than the pain he was in. But to her mother, in those tense moments, it melted my heart.

More recently Missy has been the one suffering (with illness). There she was, sitting on the sofa, exhausted by her troubles, and crying with pain. I extended the same words with the same sincerity that she had offered The A-Bomb only a few days prior 'Darling, I would take your pain for myself if I could'. And I meant it.

Missy looked me straight in the eye and with such fortitude, defiantly replied 'I would definitely not let you'. Then I was crying too.