Alpine Mummy

A new life in the middle of nowhere


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The Traumatic Incident of the Tooth in Daytime

I popped into the dentist for a quick root canal this morning. And was in the chair for TWO AND A HALF HOURS.

If you need a lesson for your kids to get them to brush their teeth, let this be it. I have been left traumatised, abused, and depressed. And my mouth is still so sore, 8 hours after the event, that I can hardly force my wine down. Exactly. It is BAD.

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(Photo credit Little Shop of Horrors)

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Secrets and lies

The other night I awoke to strange whisperings coming from Alpine Boy’s room. Pulling my ratty dressing gown around me I shuffled to his bedroom door, and was amazed to hear the following coming from within.

Now it all makes sense… every last bit.

I jotted it down, word for word, to pass on to other parents who, like me, are at the end of their tether and wondering why their kids are such brats. Here it is, take note; now the secret’s out, parenting will be a piece of cake…

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Eat, Poo, Love

Well Alpine Baby is here! Our beautiful girl made her way into the world at the end of March, bringing with her a sense of family completeness, total happiness, and constant sleeplessness.

She’s already a true Daddy’s Girl – with a headful of dark brown hair she looks nothing like me or either of my other children, and I’m constantly waiting to be stopped in the street and accused of kidnapping her whenever Alpine Papa’s not with us.

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The nine circles of hell (otherwise known as… pregnancy)

 As Alpine Papa will attest, I am not very good at being pregnant.  Not at all. 

You know those people who glow their way through pregnancy like a sunbeam, with nothing to slow them down except too much damn gushing about how they “luuuurve being pregnant” and “isn’t it amaaaaaazing”?  That’s not me.  Not at all.

Don't get confused - that's a sunbeam, that is, it's not me...

Don’t get confused – that’s a sunbeam, that is, it’s not me…

Alpine Papa is no help.  I don’t think he believes any of the suffering I am genuinely going through to bring this beautiful new life into the world.  In fact, when I moan (admittedly for the 40th time that day) about how crap being preggars is, he immediately takes great delight in pointing out how desperately I wanted to be pregnant each time, and how I would whine any time anyone I knew would dare get pregnant before me.  “Ooooh , it’s not fair”, he mocks (apparently that’s how I talk).  “So-and-so is pregnant, how come I’m not pregnant? I want to be pregnant. It’s not faaaaaaaair.  Why can’t I be pregnant? I want to be pregnant!”.

I would like to point out, though, that he is wrong.  Very.  I have never said “I want to be pregnant”, or moaned about not being. I have often whined about the fact that I want another baby and I want it now.  But that’s entirely different.  I have never had any desire to be pregnant. Why would I? It’s rubbish.

Hell in fact.  Nine months of hell.  Must have been what Dante had in mind.  Here are my nine circles of hell:

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The best of times, the worst of times – a trip abroad with Alpine Mummy

The end of November 2013 saw the amazingly perfect wedding of my bestest friend ever.  No lie – it was really fantastic.  The bride was (of course) beautiful, the venue was amazing, the weather was gorgeous (in London, in November?! Not sure how she managed that but she did!), and her shiny new husband was certainly shiny and new in his rather fetching RAF uniform.  She put so much work into every little detail – she is a total goddess, my friend Helen, and her stunning crafty talents were on display in the most perfect fashion.  If you need a wedding planning and you want it to be amazing – call on her. 

Don’t, however, call on me to organise any kind of travel plans to said wedding.  That will result in epic failure.  (What else would you expect from Alpine Mummy?  Helen and I are a strange match in that respect:  the things she touches turn to gold, whilst my faffing fiddly fingers turn most stuff to dust.  I’m not really sure why she stays friends with me – especially as it’s been this way since we met, nearly 18 years ago, and is unlikely to ever change…!). 

Beautiful venue

Beautiful venue

So, yes, as I said:  a perfect wedding.  Slotted into the middle of a disastrous weekend.  It went a little something like this: Continue reading


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A trip ‘abroad’ and a (tiny) tragedy

I’m lax.  And lazy.  And quite frankly still exhausted from my trip to the UK on my own with two kids and lots of luggage. That’s why I haven’t blogged about my trip yet, even though it was nearly two weeks ago now.  Bah.  But I’m back in the typing-seat again, so here goes…

Bit different to what I’m used to these days…

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Top 5 Alpine Mummy moments

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Oh dear.  It’s been ages, hasn’t it?  Over a month in fact, since my last post.  And it was going so well!  (But don’t say I didn’t warn you – quote:  Not sure how long the blog will last (I was never very good at Dear Diary when I was younger…) and I’m sure it won’t be that interesting, but here goes!”.)

So, I hope you all missed me?!  My inbox has been inundated with concerned inquiries about where I might be and when I’m going to start blogging again (ahem).  So I’m feeling a bit of pressure here – perhaps you’re all expecting stories about how I’ve been wrestling wild wolves in the mountains; or how I’ve been lost in 2 metre-high snowdrifts having trekked back from the chocolate shop in a snowstorm; or how I’ve been cross-country ski-ing my way through the Alps with just a baguette in my bag and a baby on my back.

Sorry.  Nothing so exciting has been keeping me from my updates.  I’ve just lost the habit.  And not much has been going on really, so the habit stayed lost.  And when something interesting did happen I was usually up to my neck in pooey nappies or snotty tissues and so never found the time to write.

So I’ve decided to do a Top 5 things that have happened in Alpine Mummy’s life over the last two months post.  Catchy title, no?

So, here you are, pop-pickers, in at number 5:

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