Titchy Jo

all about me, my boys and my adventures in Canada

By George!

So as the most hotly anticipated birth in decades has finally happened, I thought I’d better jump on the bandwagon and share my thoughts on the whole hoopla.  So here goes, firstly, massive congratulations to the warm, loving parents who are doing so well in giving their little bundle of joy the best possible start in life, Sach and Roxy on the birth of your beautiful little girl, Tiree Rose Rastogi.  Well at least that was the most eagerly awaited news in our house this week.  In other news a couple I have never met, though who seem really quite nice and decent and I’d probably like them very much if I did ever meet them, have also had a baby, apparently called George.

I love how newborns are a great leveller, no matter what riches and privilege Prince George has been born in to, one thing’s for certain, right now he is totally oblivious to it all.  There are also a few other things that I think are pretty much certain and seem to come hand in hand with having an heir:

– Right now, nearly a week in, royal or not, the adoring Mum and Dad will be exhausted.  Possibly, as I was shortly after Casper was born, to the point of hallucinating (I was breastfeeding him in the early hours – or at least I think I was  – and wondering how I would squeeze the Casper I was feeding into the moses basket next to the one that was already sleeping in there – I still have no clue which was the real one and which was the figment of my imagination).

– On approximately the 14th September 2015 he will start to find poos, willies, farts and boobs hilarious – this affliction will never leave him.

– No matter what far flung and exotic parts of the world he visits, inspirational people he meets or incredible experiences he has he definitely won’t appreciate them until he is at least eighteen.  This Saturday I took my boys to the beautiful Rainbow Park near Whistler where they played in warm crystal clear water whilst gazing out onto stunningly imposing snow-capped mountains all around.  They, however, were most excited by the fact they got to eat crisps and drink juice with a straw.

– He will at some point lie on the floor, kick and scream and have a totally illogical and uncontrollable tantrum in a public place – fortunately for most mums this can be confined to embarrassing though survivable places such as the supermarket or the library.  I hope for Kate it is some where similar rather than say at the state opening of parliament, when she’s in the middle of launching a ship or at Great-Granny’s birthday party.

– He will deposit a variety of bodily fluids on the bodies/in the hair of his nearest and dearest.  For little Prince George this will just happen to be senior members of the Royal family, I doubt he cares, though I doubt they’ll care either – that’s the beauty of being a newborn, you can get away with anything.

– As he enters the ‘terrible twos’ he will embarrass his parents by saying or doing totally socially inappropriate things.  My two year old recently approached a heavily tattooed gentleman on the beach and roared in his face for no apparent reason.  Fortunately again as a mum out of the public eye this can be contained and is even fairly amusing…though I suppose they do have experience of dealing with Great Grandfather Philip to rely on.

Anyway, Congratulations to William and Kate and Sach and Roxy and all the other lovely people who have become parents this week.

Yeah whatever, when can we eat the crisps?

Yeah whatever, when can we eat the crisps?

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And this week’s winners and losers are…

I’m still getting over the excitement and drama of watching the amazing Andy Murray win at Wimbledon on Sunday.  What an astonishing sporting triumph, for once I was able to sit and watch a Brit in a major sporting event without feeling the need to hold my breath and watch with only one eye open from behind the sofa.  The whole warmth and atmosphere left me feeling very homesick, try as I might I just can’t get as excited about how well the Canucks do in the Stanley Cup.  I’d also like to take this moment to mention another remarkable achievement – Kim Sears’ hair, truly phenomenal, it’s almost superhuman, anyone else’s locks would have wilted in the heat, the sight of her glossy mane nearly distracted me from the tennis, I think it ought to be nominated for Sports Personality of the Year.

Apparently Andy Murray started playing tennis aged five, this gives me  about two years to spot any hidden world conquering talents Casper may have – so far I’m floundering, unless toy scattering or bed time procrastination counts.    I feel terribly guilty for not having the insight to spot something outstanding in my child.  Though if I did I’d probably then feel guilty for being too ‘pushy’ – there is a fine line between nurturing your child’s undeniable talent and just being a pushy parent.  Judy Murray got it right, the mum I encountered recently forcing her tearful overweight tutu clad five year old into a drama class perhaps didn’t.

(Quick note to my boys though – if you ever achieve anything, from winning Wimbledon to the Kitsilano under 7 tiddlywink championships and you forget to hug me immediately after, your lives will not be worth living.)

Someone who makes me less proud to be British is the horrendous Katie Hopkins, I am loathed to even give the former reality show contestant the satisfaction of writing about her but just can’t stop myself.  After watching (like nearly 11 million other people) the You Tube clip of her on This Morning I haven’t felt the same bile rising up within me since I clapped my eyes on the similar clip of Samantha I’m Just Too Damn Beautiful Brick.

Just in case you’re one of the four people on the planet who hasn’t seen it here it is…

With names like Casper and Theo (though perhaps Katie would prefer if I just referred to him as Theodore)  I imagine my children would sneak it onto Katie’s ‘good boy’ list and if they were ever to become friends with Katie’s poor children I would gladly have them round to tea and let mine go to Katie’s house too – despite the fact I find their mother an insufferably ignorant human being, but I would not hold that against her poor children.  I feel genuinely sorry for them and hope they rebel in the most explosive way possible in their teenage years, go full gothic, total body tattoos, face piercings, or better still really shock their mother and become nice, rounded, non-judgmental human beings with a wide circle of good friends from a variety of backgrounds.


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