Young & Yummy Mummy

As some of you may know, my lovely new job is working at a quaint, haunted, pub.

This pub is renowned in the local area for its amazing food. The quality is fantastic, the portions are huge (I kid you not, you could feel full on just the starter) and the deserts are home made.

For the first time, ever, I waitressed on a Sunday. In previous jobs I have refused to do this, because I have always known that Sunday is the day where general morons come out to play. However, these are credit crunch times, so when asked to work a Sunday I will work a Sunday, it is £40 I need in my back pocket.

As anticipated, Sunday lunch bought out the wankers. We did about 80 covers during my shift alone, for a PUB that is fantastic, and we are just a pub...not a restaurant.

Towards the end of my shift I had 4 desert orders, deserts are my 'duty' and one of them was a creme brulee. I was quite happy about having a creme brulee, I'm pretty good at the burning bit and I always know to take it out of the fridge long enough for it to reach room temperature. So I did just that, I took the creme brulee out and let it reach room temperature whilst I prepared the other deserts. Then I took the deserts out-creme brulee included, and went back to waitressing.

Five minutes later whilst I was flapping accross a restaurant with two very heavy and steaming hot roast dinners, the lady who ordered the creme brulee barked 'Waitress'

'I'll be with you in two seconds' (cue fake smile from me)

'For christs sake' (cue roll of eyes from customer)

and so I carried on with the plates that were now starting to burn through the cloth, set them down, went through how many mustards we had for the 20th time that day and went back to the customer. I asked 'is everything okay with your deserts' to which she poked her spoon in to the creme brulee looked at me as though I was minus a few chromosomes and said 'It isn't warm'

'Pardon?'

'My.creme.brulee.is.not.warm'

'Okay'

'And it has burned bits on it'

At this point I was actually surpressing the urge to piss my pants. Who the fuck expects a creme brulee warm without the tiny flecks of burned sugar? So instead of arguing the toss over the issue (I may have pissed myself) I said, 'I shall get you a different desert' and then went in to the kitchen to bawl my eyes out with laughter.

I'm yet to eat anywhere that serves it warm, it comes room temperature...otherwise you have a runny pile of goo, with brown sugar sprinkled on top. That is why her attempt to patronise and make me feel a little less dim than she is, made me laugh until my sides ached.

If she comes in again I shall serve her a bowl of hot custard with some sugary sprinkles on top.

Ever since I moved house it has appeared as though my life is improving, but in fact it is just full of more annoyances.

We made the big move almost two weeks ago. Within two days I was succesful in finding a job, I secured a position in a haunted pub in Derbyshire. It pays above the minimum wage that is intended for 21 year olds, at the moment the minimum wage for anyone aged 18-21 is £4.77 per hour, here I receive almost £2 more. On top of that I get tips when waitressing, the locals are pleasant and I am lucky enough to have a boss that leaves me to my own devices.

I was hoping to work in a care home for disabled adults, I was succesful in getting the position and then was told that not only may the CRB take a long time, but I would also have to study an NVQ in social care, which does not tie in well with my access to midwifery.

So I have decided to stick with the haunted pub. The other staff members are nice, aside from one woman. Her name is Janette* and she is 60, childless, has 4 marriages under her belt, is moving on to the 5th and tells anyone that listens about her IBS. On my first night she revealed in detail that my boss' have an open relationship, that 'he' (as she so lovingly refers to Paul*) seeks the sympathy vote after having cancer and is 'idle' and that the chef is shit and lazy.

It turns out that the chef is neither shit or lazy, that they do have an open relationship but very discretely and they remain together for the sake of the kids and that the small bout of cancer was cancer of the stomach and esophagus, something which the British medical world sees less than 10 times a year. So this woman has pissed me off royally. I am a friendly person, and I am open to the character traits of others as I am far from perfect myself, but this woman has somehow managed to by pass the part where I gradually begin to dislike her and has entered the realms of full on hatred.

So the small things about Janette have begun to annoy me. The way she sits two people on a table of eight (what if eight walked in?), the way she re-arranges tables despite the fact that she is a bar staff member only and has no restaurant authority, the way she says things like 'Spare the rod and spoil the child' when I jokingly mention my daughters mischievous behaviour and her 5x a day mention of her IBS. Fortunately she only works 2 nights a week, so the rest of the time there is no aged bride ready to test my patience.

I am also annoyed at all of my spare time being taken up by split shifts, hayfever, child care and house work. My fiance hasn't quite grasped that whilst I am working and he is still looking for work (we think he may have found something) he needs to take on more house work. Unfortunately his attitude towards housework is laissez-fare to say the least. So all I request in return for me working extra hard is 2 hours in bed in the morning before diving in to more split shifts, do I get it? Do I hell.

My annoyance is now extending to the fact that we are having to battle with our ex landlord over a cracked freezer tray extending our deposit and the fact that I am giving up a weekends worth of shifts and £70 to spend money on petrol that will take us to Sussex, for a birthday party. I will inevitably be knackered from pulling more double shifts all week to make up for it, my fiance will receive the usual coos of 'Ohhh it is so hard when you are a man that can't find work' (when your a woman that can't find work you apparently are just filling your pre-ordained role of home maker according to his family) and then there will be further daft suggestions of a career in golf, golf club management or golf teaching, just to derail him from seeking something realistic in the meantime.

Don't get me wrong, he works hard, but once someone nudges him on the path of dream world, unlike me he cannot quite step off and hit the rocky road of reality.

So I am full of annoyances. Minor ones. But I am pissed off.

It is apparently Attachment Parenting Month, so it only feels appropriate that I explore the subject of attachment parenting.

To some attachment parenting is a must, and is easily described as a 'human instinct'. To others it is a want, but cannot be achieved due to their modern lifestyles and others brush attachment parenting to one side, preferring the older methods such as crying it out.

Attachment parenting involves breast feeding, co-sleeping, picking up at every cry, not leaving your childs side for work until they reach school and then in the later years becoming a fully involved mother who attends to all homework, emotional and physical needs with no questions asked.

To some mums (and dads) the requirements of attachment parenting will come easily. Their baby will attach at the breast, they will by-pass sore nipples, they will easily wash and dry cloth nappies, CIO is not an option and neither is leaving their baby to sleep in a cot. I love to hear about stories of women succesfully achieving attachment parenting, any mother who achieves her beneficial parenting goals is a succesful mother in my opinion.

The most critical advocates of attachment parenting can come across as being a little 'nuts' to say the least. They may aliken leaving your baby to sleep in a cot to forced sex and I have read comments on parenting forums that suggest that women who promote pumped breast milk are 'orally raping' their children by denying them breast to mouth contact. Such advocates can give attachment parenting a bad name, and should not be used as a clear example of all parents who advocate attachment parenting.

I am not a complete advocate of attachment parenting. I advocate breast feeding (and I have previously blogged on how the NHS needs to provide more breast feeding support) and I love the idea of home births. There are aspects of attachment parenting that I cannot achieve, such as using cloth nappies. We have no tumble dryer (nor can we afford one) and the British weather does not allow for out door drying, indoor drying is slow and so we use disposable. 

Co-sleeping was an early option for me. I allowed my daughter to sleep with me until she was 6 months old, and then she moved in to her cot. At 8 months she moved in to her own room and now at 23 months she is in her own bed and quite content. From the age of 12 months if she cried I would practice CIO by counting to 100, usually she would settle, but if not I would check to make sure she was comfortable (no teething, no wet/dirty nappy etc). Failing that, the CIO method would not continue for more than 5 minutes. Attachment parenting does not allow for this and to be honest I do not have the patience that allows for me to pick my daughter up at every whimper and not every woman does. I don't feel anyone who practices the CIO method should be blasted for their parenting choices.

I am anti-spank, which falls in with the ideals of attachment parenting. That does not mean that I feel pro-spank parents are lazy or brutal...there is a very thick line between spanking and beating.

Over all, I am not anti-attachment parenting...but I do feel that it will not work for everyone.

Parenting Without Punishment

As much as I love Gavin and Stacey, I am pleased it is ending. It is better to leave on a high, instead of exhausting the one liners and character traits the Wales/Essex based show is famed for.

Nessa is set to marry at the end of the show....but who will she be marrying?

I am pleased to report that the filming of Greys Anatomy series 6 is underway and that my favourite actress Chandra Wilson has been nominated for two Emmys! I can also reveal that the character that passed away at the end of series 5 was of course George O'Malley (for those who hadn't already guessed/heard!) and that we will be seeing more of Katherine Heigl.

There are also suggestions that we may see more of Dr.Addison Montgomery! WOO! I LOVE her.

Mischa Barton has been edging closer and closer towards emulating the personality of the troubled teen Marissa Cooper she is famed for playing in The OC.

She has now been sectioned and has missed the premier of 'The Home Coming'.

Unfortunately Mischa is another child star to fall victim to the pressures of fame from an early age. I hope she gets better soon.

I've moaned and whined quite a bit today. So I will blog about what made me happy in the news and then go off to bed:

I mentioned this on The Skinny Blog. We are heading for another Bridget Jones movie, and the 3rd installment of Britains favorite hopeless singleton sees her trying to fall pregnant in her 40's. I'm looking forward to the forced British accent and hopefully another embarassing Hugh v Colin fight.

I LOVE this story. This young lady above is a year older than me. She had her first baby aged 15, her second aged 16 and is now heading straight for Cambridge university. Good for her, she has broken the teen mum stereotype mould .

Marilyn Monroe wore a wonderbra. That's right, we can all look like her by wearing a wonderbra.

And the man picture above proposed to his girlfriend, on a cinema screen, singing 'If you're not the one, by Daniel Beddingfield'. I've got to say, I'd be mortified if I was her, but this made me giggle.

Now after doing all of that I feel a little less like a moody cow.