St Patricks day curse

St Patricks day, The Craic, few pints, hangover!! Thats what its all about isn’t. Thats what it used to be about anyway, however you’ve two little sprogits the only craic you want is something to get you through an episode of Mister maker!!

As we are taking Miss C back to th homeland to be christened in April we were summoned to our local church for Kindviering “a children’s celebration” so the priest could allow us to get her christened, I know it’s ridiculous! Anyway it’s started off well, until LPV got ants in his pants and wanted to walk around, at this point I have to say we had attended a service that was completely in Dutch and considering I end up tell a waitress that I AM coffee not I want coffee, you can imagine there wasn’t an awful lot to be understood.
Any good catholic will tell you about the old “peace be with you” section of mass, if I’m honest I hate this part, it gives me the giggles. I alway remember my uncle who instead of saying peace be with you wished everyone a Merry Christmas.
EPD had taken LPV for a stroll around church and left me on my own to deal with the Dutch service. Blah blah, and a Dutch dude goes to shake my hand……with a vacant look on my face I practically shout “oh right, peace be with you”. Everyone stares and I curse EPD for leaving me.
Mass comes to an end and before we leave we say goodbye like good little church folk, the priest tells us it was nice to meet us and proceeded to tell us a story that terrified me to my core.

Priest: Happy St Patricks day
Us: Thank you Fr
Priest: You remind me of another couple I met on St Patricks a few yrs ago
Us: Really
Priest: Yes, they were English speakers, he was English, she was Scottish. Lovely couple, however he was murdered in a park over there *points in the direction of our house*
Us: *awkward smiles on outside, shits self on the inside*
Priest: you’ll be fine tho

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the tactless, blunt matter if fact way of the Dutch, however if I didn’t look back on this conversation and laugh, I’d be crying hysterically.

Anyway I’m off to check all the doors are locked so we don’t become a case load for CSI Haarlem, how did your St Pats go?


I am bored, bored out of my skull, I’m in hospital you see and my lack of Dutch communication skills is stopping me from having a good old chin wag with the preggo lady next to me,
that and the fact she’s throwing up every 5 minutes.

I’ve had a lot of pain recently and yesterday it got progressively worse twinned with me bar thing all night long, not a pretty picture, certainly not when you’ve absolutely crap pelvic floors too.
I was admitted this morning just for monitoring, bubs was grand and kicking away, scan was good.
So I was discharge, as I was here I thought I’d pop to the pharmacy to get some more insulin. It was here it went Pete tong, I felt a bit hot bit dizzy so I left to get some air. BLANK!

The next thing I’m surrounded by a group of Dutch people “mevrouw, mevrouw are you ok” or Dutch words to that effect. I’m fine I say, looking at them like I’d just left the pub. The next thing I’m being wheeled to A&E, I did a full circuit of the hospital today, I get handed a cup of Vla, which is Dutch custard and told not to go to to sleep. I wanted to sleep I could of slept forever!

EPD turns up with a poorly LPV, we were only there last night with him due to raging temps, “poor Mammy, poor Mammy” he’s saying as when I saw them I burst into tears. My poor husband he’s been up and down to this hospital like a blue as fly.

It quite intimidating being in foreign hospital, I know I live here but it’s scary, I don’t speak the language, I don’t get their bedside manner, although I cannot fault the care and attention I’ve had today, but it makes me realize how much we all take the beloved NHS for granted.

Yes it’s battered and bruised but its there still going strong for you, and it has been for years. You moan, however if you seen behind the scenes for one day, the exhausted nurse, that hasn’t peed’d or eaten all day, ok your ward needs sweeping but spare a thought the cleaner she/he has probably got about 7 or 8 to clean due to cut backs.
The system here is ran on insurance, which is good in a sense too, I think sometimes it would benefit the UK too.

However it’s not until something like this happens you realize how hard the life is you choose, no one to mind the wee man so hubs can’t stay with me, family frustrated and worried as they’re not here. Then you have the gems of friends that drop off a lasagne on your door step so your not stressed about what’s going on at home.

Still I have 4 more sleeps until my parents and Aunty arrive for Christmas, I’m not sure if we’ll have a turkey mind you we were supposed to pick it up today!!

Old T-shirt

Do have items in your life that are just a complete pain in your arse??? I do mine is an old pyjama top of mine that LPV took a shine too when he was a wee bub and he now takes it everywhere and sleeps with it. If we don’t have it a bedtime its like Armageddon in our house.

So you can imagine my pure delight I felt when I realised that we had either left it at Mum’s & Tots or he decided to throw it out the bakfiets on the way home. Only in the house 5 frigging minutes I had to re strap him in and pedal off the exact way I came home. This meant cycling the wrong way down the cycle paths. Now I found the dutch to get quite agitated if you get the whole cycling etiquette wrong here. So whilst doing the 30 minute round trip for the 2nd time of the day you can imagine how ecstatic I was. I must have been cycling with a face like a smacked arse as even though the other cyclist were giving very disapproving looks for my complete disregard to the cycling rules, they took one look at my face smiled and peddled as quickly as they could.

We get to the hall where Mum’s & tots is held and as I pull up I see the stinking, scabby navy blue t-shirt just basking in the lunch time sun, I park up the bike, quickly run in and grab the T -shirt. At this point I have to say I hadn’t locked the bike purely because I was literally two seconds. I turn around to come out and the bike and LPV are gone. My initial thought are FFS were wheres my baby,now I have a snuggly and no farking kid, who stole my kid. I get out of the gate and there is the bike with LPV looking a bit shocked, the bike had rolled down the pavement was half on the curb half in line with a parked BMW. I have to say I have absolutely NO idea how it rolled as it flat but there you go, someone upstairs is obviously trying to teach me a lesson. It was a superb piece of parallel parking on the bikes behalf tho, thanks be to god that it didn’t roll any further and roll right into the BMW or even worse roll in a different direction and end up in the middle of the road.

Maybe in hindsight I should have left the farking t-shirt, or locked the bike all I know is that now I have happy sleeping toddler, Im shattered and snuggly is home