Planet Shengsters

My entry for The Gallery this week:

How big is this flower?!!

There is some muttering that this awesome dancing video is a viral ad of some sort, but to be honest, if it is, who cares? Just awesome. More videos from the team behind it here: http://www.youtube.com/user/YAKfilms

A fresh batch of lovely, warm Euphemisms Of The Week as cooked at Gas Mark 6 for 20 minutes by Pastry & Baking North America* (can you imagine the size of the tin?)

In line with its policy to ensure university places are available to all those who want them, the U.K. government, in partnership with the Football Association is starting a major new initiative to ensure there will be a place in a Premiership football club for all young people 18-26 who wish to choose football instead of further education. Each year, for the next eight years, an additional

Hello! We are not halfway across the United States in a car with two children crapping on the floor mats. We are still at home in London SW9, where we are slightly tipsy on cocktails, since Ian decided three nights ago that every night in this house should be cocktail night.(For tonight's cocktail, mix equal parts Baileys and butterscotch liqueur. Add a generous clot of Green & Black's organic

So, Freyja is proving to be the person who is most enthusiatic about potty training Theo. She has taken charge of his sticker chart, rewarding him stars for his wees and cheering him on everytime he goes.

I might just leave it in her hands.

I recently read this very interesting post by the heartful blogger, from which I learned the phrase Third Culture Kid (TCK). It has really struck a cord with me - at last a name for what I am!

I left England when I was 2 years old and didn't return to live here until I was 18 and starting university. I had been living those 2 years, of which I remember nothing at all, in Surrey where I was born - though neither of my parents come from Surrey (my mum is from North Wales and my dad is from Iceland - and in a sense they are TCKs as well, as my mum spent much of her childhood in Canada and my dad grew up in London). From age 2 to age 5 I lived in Kuwait and from age 5 to age 18 I lived in Dubai. I go back to Dubai regularly, as my parents and my brother still live there.

Living abroad was completely normal to me and I did what every child in Dubai did - I went to school with other expatriate children just like me and then every summer went 'home' - in my case to my grandparents place in North Wales. But that felt like my grandparents home, not mine. My grandma died in 1999, and I haven't been to Wales since.

It was when I came to university that I started to feel a bit out of place. I hated being asked where I came from. In Dubai, if anyone asked I would say 'England' and, though not technically even true, that would suffice. In England, I realised you couldn't say that, you needed a city, town or village to claim as your own, and besides, with a name like 'Solveig' no one was going to believe that I just 'came from England'. So I started saying 'well I grew up in Dubai'. But I'd still have to explain my name. To this day I hate the question - it's just a conversation opener, an ice-breaker, but my reply can never be straightforward. Even now, when I usually say that I come from London, as soon as I say my name, it raises questions.

And then there were the references to things that I just didn't (and still often don't) understand - television shows, sweets, cartoons, Smash Hits and Top of the Pops. I have never bought a single. My teenage years were completely different, with different references, different TV, different magazines and different food.

I don't wish that things were any different. I am glad that I grew up abroad. Sometimes I used to wish I could have the same reference points as everyone who grew up in England, but that was only through wanting to fit in. I don't care so much about that now, but I think I have an understanding of how important these things feel. But overall I would never change it. I still love going back to Dubai - as totally different as it is after all these years since I left, I still get a thrill of 'going home' when the plane lands. But now I also get that same thrill when we touch down in London too.

There are many places that I feel I have some claim to. But I don't really feel like I 'come from' anywhere at all.

Every good anecdote should start this way:

"So I nearly got killed by a Walls sausage lorry this morning..."

This is was just too cool, until the BBC took it down. Boring bastards.


I don't really watch Doctor Who, but that theme tune sends shivers down my spine, especially the major key resolution (into what might be loosely termed the middle eight) and with Orbital's crunching breakbeat and Matt Smith having the time of his life, this looks like the awesomest way to close Glastonbury 2010.

Blimey, it's been hot. And what do we need to cool us all down? That's right; a new batch of freeze-dried, fan-assisted, ice-cold Euphemisms Of The Week as recommended by the Missouri Valley Ice Manufacturer's Association*.

A very timely Gallery for me this week, because I've just been on my first British camping holiday and also my first holiday with all my 'mum friends'.

I'm not a natural camper. My husband, anxious that I was getting carried away with a rose-tinted, Cath Kidston-esque fantasy of the whole affair had tried to put me off. And I admit that I did try to buy some bunting from Ebay to put up in our tent.

But I actually loved it. I hardly slept a wink, hated the damp mornings and was almost tipped over the edge when we realised that our airbed, plus the kids readybeds didn't actually all fit in our tent. Oops. Theo was relegated to the 'porchway', poor chap.

But we chatted, we went for a rambling walk in the woods, we toasted marshmallows and ate yummy food. We even had fairy lights and lanterns around the campfire. And once the kids were in bed (which ended up being 10pm on both nights) we all put the world to rights over bottles of wine around the fire. Life doesn't get much better.

I've chosen this photo of my daughter and three of her friends who were also on the camping trip. To me it captures something of those magical, carefree childhood holidays that we all want our children's memories to be made of:

For reasons best left undisclosed Isotoma rapidly descended into swapping Big Train sketches this afternoon.  Ladies and Gentlemen – Isotoma’s top 9:

"...so yes, just put it under your arm for a while; these are much better gooey..."

....to visit my father's blog. He is just getting to grips with the confusing protocols of t'internet, so be kind.I personally think he's fabulous, but my twitter buddies have also described him as 'brilliant' and 'aces' so apparently it's not just nepotism. His latest missive is 200 words of pooh-related puns and sweary spoonerisms, which I suspect will be right up some of your streets. Said

Dear America,1. How long does it take to drive coast-to-coast across the bottom of your country, from Charleston SC to Southern California?2. Where on that route should I avoid like the plague?Thank You,Antonia

In March I spent seven days alone, with my parents in Africa. Amazingly nobody died. There were frozen margaritas, crocodiles and a couple of unnecessary references to my Dad's horn when we were sharing a room. Still, nice to know that even in your seventies you can still be, um, exciting. I suppose."Wedge the open end into the cavity of a chicken" says all you need to know about South African

Today, in Sainsburys, Freyja is looking at the bikinis, some of which have moulded, bra-style tops, when she says to me:

'Mummy - maybe Daddy and me will get you some of these boobs for your birthday'

If only....!

Where has this blog gone? One minute I'm blogging almost daily and the next, virtual tumbleweed.(I invented the 'tumbleweed' emoticon a few months ago. It looks like this: ____*__)The baby is teething, and it has been almost 30C in London all week, and quite frankly being pinned to a chair by a hot, clammy butterball of a 20lb baby has done nothing for my sense of humour or my ability to reach

Anyone go to Glastonbury? No, me either. Shame, I bet there were some wonderful Euphemisms Of The Week to be had there. Ah well, as ever the internet is our saviour.

Theo has been showing a few signs of being ready to toilet train for a little while now, and he'll happily sit and wee on the toilet when asked. Over the weekend I let him go nappy-less round the house and he was great, weeing in the potty when he needed to. And then yesterday, completely of his own accord, he did a poo in the potty.

I can ignore it no longer. I really am going to have to start potty training the boy. Ug.

So today we popped to Sainsburys and bought him some Big Boy Pants, which he is rather proud of:



But I'm going to take it slowly - just let him go without his nappy round the house for a few weeks before we really get going with it.

That'll give me a bit of time to try and remember exactly what it is you have to do to potty train your toddler...

This seems to come from a reliable source: Police Tasered an 86-year-old disabled grandma in her bed and stepped on her oxygen hose until she couldn't breathe, after her grandson called 911 seeking medical assistance, the woman and her grandson claim in Oklahoma City Federal Court. Though the grandson said, "Don't Taze my granny!" an El Reno police officer told another cop to "Taser her!"… http

The lovely Zan bought Esme some small plastic horses.The photograph does not do justice to the beautiful, natural, equine blue and yellow hues.There was something about them that made me immediately think of Latawnya, The Naughty Horse.

I may have mentioned once or twice that my daughter is starting school in September.

She is going to the school that I put as my 2nd choice. I have seriously beaten myself up about this over the last few months, wondering if I should have put my 3rd choice as my 2nd (still wouldn't have got in but then could have gone on the waiting list etc etc etc). So I'm not completely at ease with things.

But, the school she is going to is nice - not doing brilliantly in terms of results, but has a friendly feeling, a very good head, and is making 'good' progress. But, it has a reputation of being a bit 'rough', I don't know anyone else going there, and was concerned at how few other parents chose to go to the recent open evening.

I was pretty devastated when I found out she was going to this school but I have done a very good job over the last few months of convincing myself it is all okay. I've even bought the uniform.

And then yesterday I found out that Freyja is much higher up the waiting list for our first choice school than I thought. There is a very good chance she will get in for September.

I am now in turmoil. I am mentally prepared for her going to the other school and I'm finding it very difficult to switch my expectations and think of her going to my first choice school.

My first choice school is bigger, though still manages to have the feel of a small school as it is infants only. It is quite strict in terms of its expectations and discipline and it has a great reputation, an 'Outstanding' ofsted, is very good academically and I know quite a few others going there, including Freyja's best friend. I know she will be challenged at this school and it would be lovely to go somewhere that we both know others. But the junior is a separate school - and I've heard rumours that it is not quite as good as the Infants - so will be a bit of an unknown once she gets to that stage.

I hate that I'm still having to think about this and I just want to bury my head in the sand until it all goes away. The transfer for the waiting list is automatic, so if a place comes up, she's in, just like that. So if I want to stick with the current school, I have to decide right now. I've heard so much rumour, gossip and opinion about all the schools in my area that I now have no idea what my own opinion is anymore and I'm finding it pretty much impossible to decide what to do.

I just found this blog under a pile of old newspapers and copies of Land Rover Enthusiast magazines, I thought I'd see if it still worked.I've found a thing.A mysterious thing.It is here:http://tinyurl.com/32ggl7jI saw it from the train when we travelled to darkest North Essex, and thought, "Now that, that is a truly mysterious thing!"I have little doubt that is there to summon aliens, but which

I've put this photo on my blog before but I love it so much I'm putting it up as my entry for The Gallery this week.

Here is my daughter hunting for creatures in the garden with my dad, her Afi (grandfather):

It's all starting to seem very real. Tonight Adrian and I went along to Freyja's school to meet the teachers and some of the other parents.

I was very anxious - one of my big concerns is that I don't know anyone else going to this school and I have convinced myself that there will be nobody there who I like or want to be friends with.

Luckily, it wasn't quite that bad! As soon as we walked in I saw a mum who I knew from the baby group I had gone to when Freyja was a newborn. And there were one or two other parents who looked like they might have a similar outlook to life as we have. But best of all were the school teachers and staff who, without exception, were warm, friendly, welcoming people who I will be happy to leave my daughter with.

I can't say that all my concerns have been eased. I have real worries about Freyja making close friends. But at least I feel confident that she will be helped and encouraged and supported as she finds her feet in this new stage of her life.

And the school sweatshirt is really cute.

I've taken inspiration from Josie's latest Writing Workshop for this post - better late than never...

I always secretly hoped that one of my children would inherit my eyes. I come from a light-eyed family - mostly blue, though my sister's are grey and mine are more green. My mum says she still finds it slightly startling to look at her grandchildrens' golden-brown eyes, inherited from their father. Her other two grandchildren, from my brother, are both blue-eyed boys.

I hope my children are slim like I am. But I also hope my daughter doesn't grow quite as tall as me. Though I will still encourage her to wear high heels if she does.

I'd rather they get their father's nose. But either of our legs will be fine.

One thing I can already see they have inherited from us is a terrible case of undereye circles. Adrian and I are both horribly afflicted by these - I always have been, even as a child. And Freyja in particular has the same shadowy eyes, despite a 7pm bedtime and sleeping for 12 hours most nights. I will introduce her to YSL Touche Eclat when the time comes.

I pray that they get their father's teeth - it will save us a fortune in dentist bills.

And his brain would be good too - mine is fine, but he has this photographic memory thing going on which comes in handy.

His musical genes - though they could come from me too, it's in my family, just passed me by.

Freyja retreats into herself at times, like her father did when he was a boy. Though I see flashes of my sister in her too. Theo is more gregarious - apparently like his Uncle Seb. And then they suddenly swap roles, Freyja laughing and clamouring for attention and Theo shaking his head quietly at anyone who tries to engage with him.

Different people see different things, both in looks and personality. Me, Adrian, my father, Adrian's mother, my brother, my sister, Adrian's brother....the truth is that they are a wonderful mish-mash of all of us, with a large dose of no one but themselves.

Football. The beautiful game. It's everywhere at the moment - so why should your favourite MOTD-analysed* Euphemisms Of The Week be any different, eh? Commentators are a rich seam of euphemistic possibility; in fact, I'm convinced some of the pundits try to shoehorn them in deliberately (yes, you, Robbie Savage). Anyway, recently observed on the TV & Radio coverage of the FIFA World Cup 2010:

Northcote Road, SW11, is in the heart of Nappy Valley. It is in the neighbourhood "between the Commons": Clapham Common and Wandsworth Common.Between the Commons is where you live if you are 40, white, rich, and with a young family, if you want to be surrounded by people exactly like you. It's where Ian and I should supposedly aspire to live. I drove through it this morning, through its annoying

• Falsehoods Programmers Believe About Names: MicroISV on a Shoestring
  (tags: programming names)

Ian: How was nursery today, Esme?Esme: It was fine. I played with Jackie, and Raffi. We played round-a-round-a-bouts.Ian: That sounds like a fun game.Esme: Yes, but Raffi wouldn't play mermaids with me.Ian: Wouldn't he?Me: Well, it is kind of a girly game, mermaids.Ian: How do you play mermaids? What do you do?Esme: You just swim.Me: Yes. Thing is, Esme, if you want to get boys in on the game, it

Loads of people have been asking whether goal difference, goals scored or head-to-head results will be used to decide who goes through from the group stages in the 2010 World Cup. It is in fact all three, in that order!

• HTML/CSS to PDF converter written in Python - HTML2PDF Converter
  Now open source, PDF generator
  (tags: python pdf)

Mum's Eye View x 2:

This is astonishing. From the distance run to the number of players passed, to the jinks, the turns and the finish, it is pretty much identical:Spooked, anyone?

So! Yes. Before Esme went all cute and snuggly on us on Saturday night, I WAS going to write about the hard bit of having two children. Because I'm such an old hand at it! Nearly four months' experience under my belt! I know all about everything, me. But anyway. I need to redress the balance, after all the cutesy posts.When I was considering Baby Number Two, I read other people's thoughts on the

Today we hunted for elephants!

Having small children, we limited ourselves to Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden - but there 258 of these elephants dotted around London. The kids loved it. I may have to go hunting for more with them before they disappear on the 20th June.

Go to the elephant parade to see what it is all about.

Here is Ian, some years ago:And here am I, some years ago. Yes, the one dressed as a sailor with a shiny bottom. It was a special occasion:A few weeks ago, we were on a tube coming home when all these chaps dressed as the Village People piled on:When I saw the one on the right, I felt like I was looking at Oscar's future.

Can anyone tell me what the music is that starts at 4:32 of this clip? I've been wondering for at least ten years now. Sounds like Boots Randolph, but I've listened to everything of his I can lay my hands on, and no luck.I emailed the chap who uploaded this to YouTube but never heard back, so I'm asking you lot because you know everything.If you know the answer you could win a biscuit. Fuck it, a

We have two bedrooms in our house. One is huge, the other medium-sized. I'm not sure how this is going to work once the children are old enough to want separate rooms: I'm hoping Oscar will settle for going feral in the garden shed. But anyway.In the huge bedroom is our mammoth bed. It is 6'6" wide, wide enough for us both to lie in comfortably even if a child (or two) has invaded the bed; and it

• Git Reference
  Looks like a fantastic reference to git.
  (tags: git)

I just bought Esme a copy of Okido magazine today, and this was inside it. It's too amazing not to share:Impregnation is FUN!When you're all grown up, you can play this for real! But not all together! Because that would be a gang bang! I'll stop typing now.God, I love the 21st century.

Thank you to all the snailologists who gave me the go-ahead to do this. I really love the fact that whenever I have a specialist question, at least one of you clever buggers knows the answer. It's been a busy couple of days, but I grabbed a few minutes this evening for a first stab at snail-gluing. I don't think the snail was very pleased. It did a big stringy shit and then blew some fizzy

[Or: Fun With Yahoo! Babel Fish; Too Much Time On My Hands]My latest wheeze, as I sit here rearing children and yawning with boredom a lot, is Interesque English. Interesque means 'of the Internet'. It comes from the same part of my brain as 'Pinternet', which is a weighty pause as you wait ages for something to upload. In many parts of the world, Pinternet has been rendered obsolete by

Will this work?


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I might go on a weekend away later in summer by myself. We've agreed that for the next few years, there will be no family holidays abroad, because family "holidays" with small children are really just chasing those children around on someone else's property. So, fuck that: but instead, each year, Ian and I can each go on a solo weekend trip. I'd love a weekend away, but if I leave Ian with two

Technically, of course, I know I can glue things to snails. In theory.I just fancied having bling snails in my garden. If I superglue bling to a snail, will it hurt the snail? I don't know why I care so much, because the bastards destroyed my rosemary bush, but I 'm the kind of person who gets guilt from stepping on snails. Pop! Shit.Is there a German word for guilt from stepping on snails? So

In case you hadn't noticed, there's a World Cup on soon.

Esme got up one day last week and said, "Let's be bees! Me and Oscar! We can both be bees."We are not averse to fancy dress in this household, and we do in fact have two bee costumes. By a happy stroke of luck, Esme still fits into the one I got her last year, and Oscar fits into Esme's old one. Just. It says 6 months in the label and he fills it.I haven't written much about Oscar for three

From: ian@workTo: antonia@homeSubject: PIE!Dearest sweetheart,Darling, my love for you, it burns with fire,For you I would travel, cross lands, cross seas,You are my life, my joy, my hearts desire,Could you take the pie from the freezer please?I. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.

Hauling ourselves out of a warm, comfortable bed and lurching folornly down the road into the start of another working week, we stumble past the prostrate form of The Publican-championed* Euphemisms Of The Week, as it recovers from the after-effects of one too many cider slammers.

• Top 10 best Android games - paid apps | News | TechRadar UK
  (tags: android games)
• 20 best free Android games | News | TechRadar UK
  (tags: games android)
• SourceForge.net: Mounting an CIFS/SAMBA share on a USB device to bypass DLNA - samygo
  (tags: tv samsung)

Having read Baby Genie's messy play post, I decided I'd join in. Apparently I have to let my kids get really messy and write a post about it.

That isn't hard - while Freyja stays fairly respectable, I've long since given up trying to keep Theo neat and tidy. My environmentally friendly rule of only bathing my children every other day has disappeared down the drain with Theo's emerging sense of adventure.

Yesterday I had an afternoon alone with the kids. Mr Lightly was off playing cricket. Again. I would like it noted here that I am a very good wife for letting him play cricket pretty much all summer.

Anyway, back to getting dirty. Freyja asked if she could facepaint my arms, which we did. Then I painted her. Then Theo woke from his nap and Freyja painted his arms. This was one of those melt-your-heart parental moments when you see just how worthwhile it all is. Theo sat calmly at the kitchen table while his sister painstakingly consulted her little book of facepaints and created her masterpiece on her brother's chubby little arms.

I took photos, of course:


So this is my entry to 'messy play'.

But what came after was the truely messy stuff. I gave Theo a blackcurrant ice-lolly to eat in the garden. Let's just say his clothes weren't going to stretch to a second day's wear after that...

I also can't resist posting this photo of a much younger Theo after a well received meal of pasta bolognaise and yoghurt. While it wasn't 'play', it certainly was 'messy':


Anyway, here are the rules:

1. The messier your baby is in the photo the better. (The challenge is cleaning up!)
2. Post the photo to your blog with The Messy Play by Huggies Wipes challenge. (It can be an old photo or a previous post).
3. Send a link of your blog post featuring your Messy Play photo to @Huggies_UK on Twitter or online.team@Huggies.com to participate.
4. Check out http://www.flickr.com/photos/messyplaybyhuggieswipes/ to see all the blogger submissions and links to their blogs. Submissions will also be shouted out by @Huggies_UK on Twitter.
5. The top 3 messiest entries will receive Huggies® gift packs of Huggies merchandise.

Yes, with the recent Bank Holiday weekend came the by-now-traditional 'mixed' weather but also the Eurovision Song Contest; a televisual feast that divides opinion even more than Israel's nautical stop-and-search policy...

...so, in the interest of harmonious cross-border relations, this week's EU-funded* Euphemisms Of The Week focuses on the wonderfully translated foreign-language entries to the aforementioned cultural event. All of these appeared live on screen for those of you following the competition via the BBC's 'red button' interactive service which helpfully scrolls the lyrics across the bottom of the screen for each act. And I'm calling them 'Europhemisms', before any bugger else does :)

For the last few years, I've wanted to make stepping-stones for a little path up at the end of the garden, in what was formerly the Shitty Patch that nothing would grow in.The Shitty Patch has come a long way, and is now rather nice: Ian wanders up there in the evenings to clean his ears and shout at squirrels. The path runs from bottom right of the picture, up to the bench, then out of the

• The DCI Architecture: A New Vision of Object-Oriented Programming
  (tags: patterns programming mvc dci)

I knew exactly who I wanted in my picture for this week's Gallery, it was just a case of finding the right one. As it turns out, I don't have that many photos of my subject matter.

So here is a not-very-good photo of my son, Theo* and his friend Lola:


Both were born on a Friday, Theo 6 weeks after Lola. Lola's mother is my best friend. We met when she was 19 and I was 22 and now here we are, more than a few years later, both mothers.

To me this is one of the great things about friendship, having your friends grow and change with you - out raving in a club one minute, then having coffee & cake with our babies on our lap the next.

* note that Theo is wearing one of Lola's hairclips in this picture!

I am generally not a fan of designer fashion for children. Too expensive, they grow out of it too quickly and before they do, they spill food down it. Plus, I don't wear designer stuff myself, so why would my kids?

But, I do have this Little Paul & Joe (which they sell at ASOS) skirt for Freyja:


It was bought in a designer outlet store and is so sweet and summery that I wish it actually was mine.

A long hiatus, I know, and this is just a repost from the b3ta newsletter but I just had to share it

Fantastic video for Groove Armada’s latest single.

This gem was too good not to share, from cricket last night:

"So when's the baby due?"
"3rd of August"
"And do you know what it is?"
"Yes, it's a Tuesday"