I named this blog as I did because, at the time, I was playing a lot of World of Warcraft. Actually, my time on that game dropped dramatically as my sister had a baby boy, Dylan, 6 months prior to the first post I made (the only real post before this) and she didn't seem to want to spend any time with him. And she went on to spend virtually no time with him until he was nearly 2 years old; she would drop him off at our place soon after he woke, usually between 9am and 10 am, and wouldn't come to pick him up until after 9pm.
At some point during this time my play time on WoW and any other games dropped even further and yet I still seemed to have no life of my own.
When her son was around 18 months old she had a Daughter, Georgia-May, just as adorable as he is. We frequently took care of both children for a few months, but as her son was now able to walk unaided and speaking in full sentences (no thanks to her) she started taking much more of an interest and we don't get to see him as much, these days.
(Elise isn't actually employed and nobody is completely certain why she can't watch both children, or why she couldn't look after Dylan when he was an only child).
We now baby sit her as much as we did Dylan, if not more as Elise tends to drop her off after 8am, some time, and will rarely come for her before 10pm. She seems to have less interest than she had for Dylan, and I thought her treatment of him was pretty deplorable. Realistically I know George is getting treated better than he was, or at least changed more frequently. Though this could be because she's spending more time with us during the day, although Dylan probably spent more time here as we had him for far more nights.
Most days a guy called Tony Quigg comes and babysits for us. I don't think I can really explain the way this man makes those around him feel and do justice while accurately explaining the feelings he evokes in us. He does it for free and he's not exactly affluent. This, you would think, must make him some kind of saint. This is what I would think. However I think that if you, my imaginary reader, got to know him for a few weeks, then eventually you'd want to be payed to endure his continued company. There's no end to the amount of personal comments and cutting remarks he makes. He has no problems telling people what he thinks about their personal habits, especially my poor step father who has several medical conditions which prevent him from leading a hygienic lifestyle. I think about killing Tony at least once a day, which is still much more merciful of the amount of homicidal fantasies my mother has of him.
I don't even think he babysits out of the goodness of his heart, I think it's more to do with some perverse way he see's my sister, who has to be 40 years his junior. (He claims to be about 50 or so, though I wouldn't be surprised if this was true and life has simply aged him a little prematurely).
Even though he's babysitting my sister's children she won't let him do it at her house because he keeps complaining her house stinks of weed (she denies this repeatedly, but I think this is one area where we might actually agree with Tony. Though, thinking about it, I couldn't smell weed when me and mum popped by for a few minutes earlier), that her boyfriend is a twat (one of the few other things we agree on. Even Elise has a hard time rebuking this) or anything else that comes to mind. She also suspects that she snoops around her house, in places where he doesn't belong, and opens her mail. She doesn't mind the idea of him doing that here.
Today he told mum "wasn't fit to look after the baby" (he's ill) this morning, however I pointed out to her that he's not fit to look after her full stop.
So I had her all day, not that I really minded. A few months ago (it might have been about 6 months ago, it was summer) we had a huge blow out and I wouldn't let mum have him around for a month. This was the longest we've been rid of the anal bastard since the birth of her first child. I knew that, as soon as I started backing down and letting him come infrequently it wouldn't be long before he was here almost every day of the week.
Mum had a dentist appointment today, needed to make a trip to Welshpool and had a weight-watchers meeting. I was supposed to accompany her to Welshpool, but we both agreed it was unfair to take a baby out in the car in this weather when we don't have to. I still didn't like letting her go along but I didn't see any other choice.
George took 2 short naps in the middle of the day, the later one lasted for the better part of an hour, most of which I spent trying to revive Chug's yahoo email account. For some reason it won't accept (what we believed) to be the old password or let us change it to anything new. I didn't manage to do this while she slept. I even tried starting a new yahoo account, however I kept getting messages saying I couldn't open an account for anybody below 18 years old without parental or guardian consent and required a parent or guardian to log in to give it. I don't know my mother's password (which I'm a little surprised about, truth be told, as I know the entire household's passwords for their online services except for mum's email. And I swear I used to know it).
I don't remember what I did until after 4, when Charles came home, and I don't really remember what I did until around 6, when I watched the episode 1 of 'Psych' on my computer, as he never saw much of the first season.
George was asleep at the time, this time sleeping for at least 80 minutes. After Psych I took fer down to change her nappy and make dinner for family. Although "making" dinner seems wrong, mum got a cooked chicken from the supermarket and some pork stuffing and meatloaf, which I warmed and fried some pre-sliced chips. (Actually, it's been so long since I've had anything other than pre-cut chips that I don't remember what home sliced ones even taste like. This isn't because I prefer them or even because I don't like the hassle of cutting chips (I don't, but this is beside the point) but because, years ago, I found the McCain's Home Fries were better than any other chip I'd ever tasted from anywhere. They're not nearly as good since they made them into oven chips, but they'd become too habitual by then).
I stayed downstairs until it was time to take Georgia home. She was very talkative in this time, though she doesn't know any 'actual' words, unless you count 'mumumum' (which I suspect we do), and possibly bababa. (She also make a sound which I don't think I know how to repeat, let alone spell, which seems to combine a 'W' and a 'B' sound. You can try to imagine it but I don't think you could possibly understand the noise without hearing it first). I watched a little Q.I with Chuggle.
Stavros, my sister's loser boyfriend, had taken their car to Liverpool for whatever reason (I wouldn't like to think about his reasons, let alone speculate about them as publicly as this). When we got there Mum had to pop inside "for 5 minutes" to top up my sister's mobile phone credit. We ended up staying for far longer, but this was to be expected.
We arrived to find her playing that memory game with the cards where you flip a pair and if the pictures don't match you have to flip them back. Dylan apparently had some trouble understanding the rules. But he's 2, so I let that slide, especially as he played so enthusiastically.
He cried when we left, which was pretty heart breaking. He was pretty excited that we were there, as we rarely make the visit to her place (in my case it's mostly because I don't like my sister) and I think he wanted us to spend the night.
It's not fair to have to take care of them so much, but it still hurts to see the little buggers go. I've bonded so much with both of them it's almost a maternal thing, which is more than can be said for their mother.
On our way home mum said she wanted to have a look around town (which she does sometimes, and so do I, occasionally), not that there was anything to say by that time (especially on wednesday). I reminded her that I was the only one who hadn't eaten yet (as I was looking after the baby while others ate, as they were nice enough to watch her while I 'cooked'), but that I didn't mind as my dinner was, no doubt, already cold. We didn't spend long going through town (my sister lives 5 minutes away by car so any stops made between her house and ours are detours).
I warmed my dinner a little and ate it with some buttered bread and watched Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. (It started off pretty hard hitting, but trailed into more of a court room drama, like the original show. Actually, it one I'd seen before, where the woman from the D.A's office comes out of witness protection). Then I came up here, checked my messages and finally got around to updating my blog after 2 years.
I think I may go and have a mug of Rooibos before I actually go to bed, though.
At some point during this time my play time on WoW and any other games dropped even further and yet I still seemed to have no life of my own.
When her son was around 18 months old she had a Daughter, Georgia-May, just as adorable as he is. We frequently took care of both children for a few months, but as her son was now able to walk unaided and speaking in full sentences (no thanks to her) she started taking much more of an interest and we don't get to see him as much, these days.
(Elise isn't actually employed and nobody is completely certain why she can't watch both children, or why she couldn't look after Dylan when he was an only child).
We now baby sit her as much as we did Dylan, if not more as Elise tends to drop her off after 8am, some time, and will rarely come for her before 10pm. She seems to have less interest than she had for Dylan, and I thought her treatment of him was pretty deplorable. Realistically I know George is getting treated better than he was, or at least changed more frequently. Though this could be because she's spending more time with us during the day, although Dylan probably spent more time here as we had him for far more nights.
Most days a guy called Tony Quigg comes and babysits for us. I don't think I can really explain the way this man makes those around him feel and do justice while accurately explaining the feelings he evokes in us. He does it for free and he's not exactly affluent. This, you would think, must make him some kind of saint. This is what I would think. However I think that if you, my imaginary reader, got to know him for a few weeks, then eventually you'd want to be payed to endure his continued company. There's no end to the amount of personal comments and cutting remarks he makes. He has no problems telling people what he thinks about their personal habits, especially my poor step father who has several medical conditions which prevent him from leading a hygienic lifestyle. I think about killing Tony at least once a day, which is still much more merciful of the amount of homicidal fantasies my mother has of him.
I don't even think he babysits out of the goodness of his heart, I think it's more to do with some perverse way he see's my sister, who has to be 40 years his junior. (He claims to be about 50 or so, though I wouldn't be surprised if this was true and life has simply aged him a little prematurely).
Even though he's babysitting my sister's children she won't let him do it at her house because he keeps complaining her house stinks of weed (she denies this repeatedly, but I think this is one area where we might actually agree with Tony. Though, thinking about it, I couldn't smell weed when me and mum popped by for a few minutes earlier), that her boyfriend is a twat (one of the few other things we agree on. Even Elise has a hard time rebuking this) or anything else that comes to mind. She also suspects that she snoops around her house, in places where he doesn't belong, and opens her mail. She doesn't mind the idea of him doing that here.
Today he told mum "wasn't fit to look after the baby" (he's ill) this morning, however I pointed out to her that he's not fit to look after her full stop.
So I had her all day, not that I really minded. A few months ago (it might have been about 6 months ago, it was summer) we had a huge blow out and I wouldn't let mum have him around for a month. This was the longest we've been rid of the anal bastard since the birth of her first child. I knew that, as soon as I started backing down and letting him come infrequently it wouldn't be long before he was here almost every day of the week.
Mum had a dentist appointment today, needed to make a trip to Welshpool and had a weight-watchers meeting. I was supposed to accompany her to Welshpool, but we both agreed it was unfair to take a baby out in the car in this weather when we don't have to. I still didn't like letting her go along but I didn't see any other choice.
George took 2 short naps in the middle of the day, the later one lasted for the better part of an hour, most of which I spent trying to revive Chug's yahoo email account. For some reason it won't accept (what we believed) to be the old password or let us change it to anything new. I didn't manage to do this while she slept. I even tried starting a new yahoo account, however I kept getting messages saying I couldn't open an account for anybody below 18 years old without parental or guardian consent and required a parent or guardian to log in to give it. I don't know my mother's password (which I'm a little surprised about, truth be told, as I know the entire household's passwords for their online services except for mum's email. And I swear I used to know it).
I don't remember what I did until after 4, when Charles came home, and I don't really remember what I did until around 6, when I watched the episode 1 of 'Psych' on my computer, as he never saw much of the first season.
George was asleep at the time, this time sleeping for at least 80 minutes. After Psych I took fer down to change her nappy and make dinner for family. Although "making" dinner seems wrong, mum got a cooked chicken from the supermarket and some pork stuffing and meatloaf, which I warmed and fried some pre-sliced chips. (Actually, it's been so long since I've had anything other than pre-cut chips that I don't remember what home sliced ones even taste like. This isn't because I prefer them or even because I don't like the hassle of cutting chips (I don't, but this is beside the point) but because, years ago, I found the McCain's Home Fries were better than any other chip I'd ever tasted from anywhere. They're not nearly as good since they made them into oven chips, but they'd become too habitual by then).
I stayed downstairs until it was time to take Georgia home. She was very talkative in this time, though she doesn't know any 'actual' words, unless you count 'mumumum' (which I suspect we do), and possibly bababa. (She also make a sound which I don't think I know how to repeat, let alone spell, which seems to combine a 'W' and a 'B' sound. You can try to imagine it but I don't think you could possibly understand the noise without hearing it first). I watched a little Q.I with Chuggle.
Stavros, my sister's loser boyfriend, had taken their car to Liverpool for whatever reason (I wouldn't like to think about his reasons, let alone speculate about them as publicly as this). When we got there Mum had to pop inside "for 5 minutes" to top up my sister's mobile phone credit. We ended up staying for far longer, but this was to be expected.
We arrived to find her playing that memory game with the cards where you flip a pair and if the pictures don't match you have to flip them back. Dylan apparently had some trouble understanding the rules. But he's 2, so I let that slide, especially as he played so enthusiastically.
He cried when we left, which was pretty heart breaking. He was pretty excited that we were there, as we rarely make the visit to her place (in my case it's mostly because I don't like my sister) and I think he wanted us to spend the night.
It's not fair to have to take care of them so much, but it still hurts to see the little buggers go. I've bonded so much with both of them it's almost a maternal thing, which is more than can be said for their mother.
On our way home mum said she wanted to have a look around town (which she does sometimes, and so do I, occasionally), not that there was anything to say by that time (especially on wednesday). I reminded her that I was the only one who hadn't eaten yet (as I was looking after the baby while others ate, as they were nice enough to watch her while I 'cooked'), but that I didn't mind as my dinner was, no doubt, already cold. We didn't spend long going through town (my sister lives 5 minutes away by car so any stops made between her house and ours are detours).
I warmed my dinner a little and ate it with some buttered bread and watched Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. (It started off pretty hard hitting, but trailed into more of a court room drama, like the original show. Actually, it one I'd seen before, where the woman from the D.A's office comes out of witness protection). Then I came up here, checked my messages and finally got around to updating my blog after 2 years.
I think I may go and have a mug of Rooibos before I actually go to bed, though.
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