I do or I don't?

Unless you’ve been living under a rock you’ll be aware that Kate Middleton and Prince William are getting are married today in London.  All the stores have out red, white and blue and Union Jack bunting, cakes, cookies; you name it—if they can cash in on the hype, the stores are selling it.

I can’t say what it’s like down south in England, but in Scotland there doesn’t seem to be much hype.  Not a single application for a street party was put in in Glasgow and I don’t know anyone throwing a party.   I can’t speak for everyone in Scotland, but I can say that Union Jacks and red, white and blue have a very different connotation in Glasgow.  All the Rangers/Celtic connotations aside, there is a long history of the Scottish not being that keen on the monarchy.

No offense to my fellow Americans (unless you were that idiot hopping up and down on the news outside Westminster Abbey today) but most of you don’t get the difference between British and English---it’s not the same thing.  The United Kingdom, or Great Britain if you will, is made up of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.  So while a Scotsman is British, he is certainly NOT English. Do you follow? There tends to be a bit of an Anglophile slant and often it’s assumed that British and English are interchangeable when they really aren’t.   Throw in a thousand years of border wars and , let’s face it, who *actually* likes their neighbours anyway?

If it were up to me and I would watch the wedding to see her dress, make fun of other people’s dresses and just to see if anything crazy happens. Hell I’d even throw a party just for a reason to have a party; after all we do all have the day off (well those of you who don’t consult do).  NotBlondeHusband is not keen on any of it. He changes the channel when the news has any “reports” on the Royal Wedding and in general is fed up with all of it.

He made one comment that really stuck with me in the midst of all his rants and ravings:

“We say that Blondie Boy can grow up to be and do whatever he wants.  Well he can’t grow up to be King.”

The man actually talks some sense.  When my sister was little she told everyone she wanted to be a Queen when she grew up—I think she just wanted all the bling and a castle—and while I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to happen, in theory it could.  If Blondie Boy wants to be King he can’t but William can simply because of his parentage.

Why is so much attention and pageantry given to someone solely because of the family they were born into?  Why is his wedding that much more important than anyone else’s marriage?  To be honest I don’t “get” the whole monarchy thing.  Sure in the States we have our own sort of royalty with celebrities, but there isn’t anything vaguely comparable.  Can you imagine getting a day off work and the shops full of souvenirs and limited edition tchotskies because the President got married? It doesn’t work; there isn’t anything to compare it to because monarchies are something we’ve never had unless you count Disney princesses.

I could take this a whole other route and say do we want our daughters growing up wanting to be princesses, but I won’t go there. I did see someone tweet “I wonder what it’s like going to bed tonight knowing tomorrow you’ll be a real live princess.”  Hmm, I hope for her sake Kate is going to bed tonight knowing that tomorrow she’s going to be a wife and that the princess part (if she even gets the title) is an afterthought.  Since the release of their vows revealed Ms. Middleton had “obey” deleted from the wedding vows, I’m hoping she’s feminist enough to not be so antiquated.

I am planning to set my DVR to record the proceedings and if NotBlondeHusband doesn’t “accidentally” delete it I will fast forward to the best bits and ooh and ahh while he’s out of the house.  I don’t see anything wrong in celebrating two people’s love for one another, but I can see that when tax payer’s money is involved and other long standing history is involved that not everyone would be so keen.

Tots 100 Guest Post

Today I've got a guest post over on the Tots 100!

The easiest way to explain why I’m not your average Mummy blogger is the fact that – whisper it –  I’m not actually a Mummy.

You see I’m a Mommy.

Not only am I a Mommy, but I am a Mommy who lives in Glasgow, Scotland: more than eight hours and 400 miles from London, where most blogging events seem to take place....

Read the rest here!

Tots 100 Guest Post

Today I've got a guest post over on the Tots 100!

The easiest way to explain why I’m not your average Mummy blogger is the fact that – whisper it –  I’m not actually a Mummy.

You see I’m a Mommy.

Not only am I a Mommy, but I am a Mommy who lives in Glasgow, Scotland: more than eight hours and 400 miles from London, where most blogging events seem to take place....

Read the rest here!

It's oh so quiet

A sick husband with essays due, plus a nap-striking toddler and beautiful weather means my blog has gone a bit quiet! I've got a post in my head about Blondie Boy's potty training progress (you know you are dying to know about that) that I will get up asap, but in the meantime why not check out my review for UK Mums TV of the Baba and Boo Cloth Nappy!  It's a video review so you get to see Blondie Boy in live action, ooh la la!

Peepshi Easter Treats

The lovely people at Kellogg's UK were ever so kind to send us out a wee Easter surprise package this week with aprons, a chef's hat and all the goodies you need to make Rice Krispie treats.  Blondie Boy is still a little young to help cook (I can't wait until he's big enough!) and for such a sugary treat so I set NotBlondeHusband a task using Rice Krispie treats and his favourite American candy: Peeps.

First off for those who don't know this is a Peep and they are awesome.  It's basically a marshmallow chick covered in coloured sugar.  They are amazing and NotBlondeHusband LOVES them.  Luckily for him my Dad sent over a bumper pack that arrived the same day as our Kellogg's goodies.

So what is Peepshi then?  It's a sugary reincarnation of one of my favourite foods: sushi! You can read how to make Peepshi here but all you need is Rice Krispie treats, Fruit Winders or any Fruit Roll-Up snack and Peeps!

Isn't it cute? NotBlondeHusband had a lot of fun making them and I can't wait to bring them out tomorrow for a Easter treat at half-time during the football. If you want to make Peepshi yourself why not check out The Five F's competition to win your own Kellogg's goody bag! 

Bossypants

I love Tina Fey and if this is anything to go by I can't wait to get my hand on her new book Bossypants! Here is her "The Mother’s Prayer for Its Daughter” that's been making the rounds.

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.”

-Tina Fey

Photo and Words from Write in Colour.

Wordless Wednesday: Happy Peaster!