who says the british are polite and stuffy?

in all the novels about british people, all the characters seem stuffy and unbearably polite, balancing their tea cups whilst entering into polite conversation.

no one here that i've met however is stuffy at all, although they are polite. well... most of the time.

the other day, we were having dinner, and i was helping clay eat. he got a bit of something he decided he didn't like and spat it back out on his plate. of course, i'm mortified that he's done this in front of my m.i.l, and wonder what she thinks about my parenting (as we all do). trying not to think about it, i concentrate on the issue at hand and tell him he musn't do that, and that its not polite. we go back to eating. he doesn't do it again. however, not two minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, i notice my husband spitting a peice of fat onto his plate with out batting an eyelash.

he sees me glaring at him. "what!" he says, innocently. "it was fat!" as if that explained it all.

i can tell that teaching clay table manners might get a bit interesting.

monkey business

we went to the zoo the other day with clay and his cousins. anyway, we walked into the exhibit called monkey tails, where you walk though the enclosure and this tiny monkeys swing overhead. fascinating, until you realize that monkeys aren't potty trained.

here i was, standing there, oohing and ahhing over the cute little monkeys to clay and nick says, "watch out!" and he's laughing.

instinctively, i stumble out of the way, and then look up to see a monkey peeing on the spot where i had been standing moments before.

now, i'm thinking those cute little monkeys are not so cute at all. nick then grins boyishly and tells me, "i wouldn't put that hood up if i were you," (on my jacket).

confused, i ask, "why?"

looking very much like a naughty little boy about to pull a trick, he tells me, "well, the monkey didn't just pee..." he pauses to let this sink in.

laughing at the horrified look on my face he says, "well, you'ld better check because i didn't see any of it hit the ground."

this very much makes me want to panic and i made him check my hood. then he tells me, "well, its not in your hood; maybe its in your hair."

of course that made me feel muuuuuch better. right.

in the end, there was no monkey business, so to speak, on me at all; but nick had a good laugh over it all. cheeky man!

cheers, mate

well, we are here in the u.k., and clay had a great 2nd birthday. he got a remote control care and a battery powered train set and track from his nan and grandad. he got some england team pyjamas and builder bob books from his auntie, and tomorrow is his party, so he'll maybe even get a few more things. he's having alot of fun. he loves seeing everyone and playing with his cousins. he's totally worn out from playing with his cousins today. will be fun to see everyone tomorrow.

the plane ride wasn't that fun, but we survived. clay was so tired, but wouldn't sleep for the longest time. he woke up a few times, and once he woke up and just started sobbing, and the stewardess thought she could calm him down better than we could and asked to take him for a little walk to calm him down. of course, being that he had woken up and found himself in a strage place and then was taken away by a complete stranger, he cried even harder. she brought him back to me and said, "i don't know why he's so mad!"

i don't think she has kids of her own. oh well. you gotta love those well-meaning parenting experts who have no kids of their own but think they could do a better job than you. after that i had him sit by me. he wasn't by me before that because that same stewardess told me she didn't think it was a good idea that he sit in the window seat by me because she thought he was "claustrophobic"; because he was fussing in his car seat and trying to kick the seat in front of him. so she had us move his car seat to the seat next to nick, where he got even fussier because he wanted to sit by me. no lady, he's not crying because he's claustrophobic, he's crying because its 8:30 at night, and he usually goes to bed at 7:30, and he's used to having his own bed. he also missed his nap, due to the fact that we had to drive for an hour and a half to get there, and check in early. so he's tired. not claustrophobic. and when he's tired and crabby, he want's his mama, so don't take him away from his mama and then act amazed when he gets even more upset. (of course i didn't say this to her, lest i get banned from NWA for life, but i was thinking it).

so after the "parenting expert" returned my child to me, i held him til he went to sleep and then laid him down on the empty seat next to me. and he was fine. he slept for the rest of the flight. i did not. so i'm still pretty tired and still have jet lag though. its only 8:30 pm here and i'm completely shattered. well, am logging off now; am having problems with this keyboard. this is taking me ages to write, because its not working right.

so, toodles for now!