Archive for August, 2006

So why Tiger Feet?  Well, “Tiger Feet” by Mud was number one in the charts on the day I was born.  I suspect it was also Pewari‘s birth day song, as she is a whole 5 days older than me, the old trout.

I was also born in the year of the Tiger, according to the Chinese horoscope.

Quick poll:  How many of you now feel old?  How many of you have no idea who Mud are as they are too young to remember them?

I hope you enjoy the video.  I’m partial to a bit of glam rock myself.


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I had a quick look at my blog stats whilst slurping my soup at lunchtime today and I was somewhat shocked to find that someone had found Tigerfeet by entering “P!ssing with her @rse in the air” into a search engine. This pointed them to one of my posts of 31st July where I’ve posted a photo of my daughter’s favourite sleeping position along with a typical Anglo Saxon description of said sleeping position.

The idea that someone could find a perfectly innocent picture of my sleeping daughter whilst googling for porn has made me feel incredibly, well, icky. I want to go for a shower and wash all the horridness away from both of us.

From now on I’m going to be a damn sight more careful about how I talk about things. I’m also going to use pseudonyms. It’s either that or take the blog offline, which I really don’t want to do. I’m not daft enough to think that pseudonyms are going to stop people finding their way here who I would rather didn’t, but it makes it far less personal somehow. The fact that a complete stranger, who was looking on the internet for something entirely different from pictures of a sleeping baby, knows my daughter’s name saddens and sickens me. That’s the world we live in I suppose :(.

So here’s a list for you:

  • Tiger Feet – Me. Obviously.
  • The Yorkshireman – My long suffering husband. A walking talking Yorkshire cliché.
  • Little’un – My two-year-old daughter
  • Sibling 1 – Brother, two years younger
  • Sibling 2 – Brother, four years younger
  • Sibling 3 – Sister, *cough* years younger
  • BabiesEverywhere and Deckchair – two of my oldest friends, a married couple with a brand new daughter called Babychair. I didn’t choose their handles. They did that all by themselves 😀
  • There are various others – Pewari, GGM, Bubbles and Kroy spring to mind – that are generally referred to by pseudonym anyway.

If you spot any forgotten name changes anywhere, please let me know.

Sigh. One day I will stop being so naïve about what I write on the internet. I will learn.

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I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer so I took this afternoon off work and hot footed it up to South Yorkshire to see Babies Everywhere, Deckchair and beautiful brand new Babychair. They are all still in hospital after a traumatic birth but are on the mend and are hoping to be home soon.

Well I am smitten. (NB smitten, not broody ;)). She is just gorgeous. All I wanted to do was cuddle her and get lost in her big blue eyes [bucket emoticon]. She is very alert and can already hold her head up at two days old. She’s going to be very clever indeed. Clearly the influence of her Auntie Tigerfeet during her brewing.

I wanted to take Little’un with me but the maternity ward they are on does not allow children (other than the brand new ones I hasten to add). On one hand it was a good job she couldn’t come, she would probably have got incredibly jealous of me slobbering over my newest friend. On the other hand it was a real shame because I took the opportunity to pop in and have a long awaited cup of tea and a cake with me old mate Bubbles (not her real name I hasten to add), who would have loved to have met her.

Bubbles and I first met many years ago when we worked for the same company. I spent many nights (in the olden days when I was still single) passed out in a drunken coma on her sofa. I was once hideously sick in her garden. She has since moved house ;), and I have to mark with real sadness the passing of the comfiest sofa in the world ever.

We have a lot in common in terms of life experience and outlook so she is one of those people I can always talk to no matter how long it has been since we last caught up with one another. Good job really as we haven’t seen each other or spoken properly since I left South Yorkshire seven (yup, that’s seven Bubbles!) years ago. Not quite as long as the twenty years it took Pewari and I to meet up after being at primary school together but still a pretty long time. I’m too old to leave such long gaps these days.  I’m going to have to make more effort to stay in touch with good friends. 

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…on the birth of their little girl, Babychair 🙂 , who finally arrived yesterday afternoon after a long and particularly difficult labour (awful even by childbirth standards – mine was fairly straightforward but still excruciating). Thankfully I can report that now that Babychair is here, in the words of that immortal cliché, “Mum and Baby are doing well”.

I think I now know how expectant fathers used to feel in the olden days when they weren’t allowed to attend the birth of their children. I’ve been on tenterhooks since Thursday morning when BabiesEverywhere’s water broke. Everyone at work is sick of hearing about it. I’ve worn tracks in every carpet I’ve walked on. I’ve become obsessed with the arrival of this little one to the point where I think that the Yorkshireman was starting to worry that I might be getting ideas about family expansion (I’m not, btw).

When I finally got the call from a very tired and slightly spaced out sounding Deckchair I was delighted, overjoyed, overwhelmed with happiness and lots of other words that don’t really describe how pleased I am for them. We in the car at the time and I must have got an insect or something in my eye as I had to have a little dab with a tissue.

I can’t wait to meet Babychair and have a chat with BabiesEverywhere about how good Gas & Air really is :D.

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Yesterday we went to a Family Fun Day at work. In spite of all the horrors a corporate fun day conjures up in the mind we had a really good day out. All the food, non-alcoholic drinks and rides were free. There was a band and an It’s a Knockout competition. The Yorkshireman was sent out for (free :D) burgers and got caught in the wall of water that fell out of the sky, Little’un and I stayed smugly dry under in a marquee so I got to have a laugh at his expense – always an entertaining way to pass the time.

Little’un’s big enough now to go on some of the rides, but not quite big enough to go on the little train rollercoaster thing unsupervised. Never one to turn down the opportunity of behaving like a two-year-old, I went on with her. All was going well until the time came to get out of the seat. My arse is so wide these days and my legs so chunky that I was stuck (oh the shame) and it took some heaving and straining and forcible rearrangement of legs to push myself out of my seat. It could have been worse I suppose. No winches or cranes were required to de-seat me. Needless to say there was no option but to soothe my battered pride with (free :D) ice-cream.

Little’un is also big enough now to burst eardrums when told that it’s time to go home and that no, she can’t go on the merry-go-round for the 58th time. Judging by the pack of wild hyenas that appeared as if by magic, she can scream in various pitches including some that are inaudible to humans [fingers in ears emoticon]. Happily for everyone within a 20-mile radius, she can still be easily soothed with a lollipop :). Unfortunately she’s not big enough to hold on to her helium balloon tightly enough so sadly it’s probably now floating somewhere over the Mid Atlantic :(.

So back to me being, erm, cuddly. I struggled to cut my toenails last night because my stomach got in the way. So the point of lardy ridiculousness has been reached and it is time for (yet another) attempt to Do Something About It.

Don’t hold your breath though. I’ve threatened such things before without following though (as it were). What I need is MOTIVATION.

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Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright…

Either I am incredibly slow on the uptake, or WordPress have just added the “Blog Stats” page to their free blogs.  Either way, I now have a new obsession – an hourly check to see how many people have passed this way and how some of them got here.  My particular favourite bit is the Search Engine Terms – the words or phrases that people have put into their search engines to get a link to this blog, and then clicked the link.

I had a great one today – “Real life tiger encounter stories”.  So, dear reader, by coming here to see me you now have a real life tiger encounter to share with your friends.  You will be the toast of any dinner party you happen to attend.

Little’un told us at the weekend that there was a tiger in the hedge in the back garden, and spent the next couple of days saying “Tiger!  Raaahhhhhrrrr!” whilst doing the vicious claw hand thing.  PMSL.  I think she knows her Mummy is a tiger really.

Oh, and the Yorkshireman, Kroy and Pewari all know why this blog is called Tiger Feet.  Anyone else?

Raaaaaahhhhhhrrrrrrrrr [scared reader emoticon]

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Healthy Eating

Aren’t children’s birthday parties great?  You dress your little darling up in their finest and take them along to the do, where they proceed to stuff their faces with every kind of crap imaginable, smear indelible food dye all over their beautiful party outfits and get ridiculously overexcited and very overtired.  Then you get to take them home to deal with the aftermath of all that sugar and all those E numbers.

Not in our house though (she said smugly).  It doesn’t matter if Little’un eats bright red food washed down with a fruit shoot, followed by the entire contents of her party bag (including some of the non-edible bits).  She stays her usual sunny self and toddles off to bed at 7.30 without complaint.  I’m always telling myself how fortunate I am to have a happy, healthy child but with regard to her behaviour, particularly post sugar binge, I have been exceptionally lucky.  I have read so many horror stories of what happens to some children once they’ve had so much as a sniff of tartrazine, regardless of how good their diet is otherwise.

On the whole Little’un eats very healthily.  One of the (many) reasons that we chose the nursery she goes to is that they provide home cooked fresh food for every meal and every snack.  The smell of cooking when you walk in through the door is enough to make any red-blooded person salivate.  It even overpowers the smelly nappies if it’s cheese straws :D.  At home she gets the odd fish finger but I have been known to cook for her too, my non-chilli-con-carne being a particular favourite (handy mummy hint – don’t put tomato purée in and it won’t stain clothes).  She often turns down biscuits and cake in favour of her all time favourite – ham – although she never says no to chocolate or sweets (just to prove that she is actually a normal little girl and not a mutant superchild 😉 ).  She gets all the nutrition she needs from her everyday diet so the occasional cakey day will do her no harm at all.

It is my humble opinion that in moderation, a bit of food colouring or the odd Fruit Shoot won’t do any child any harm, food intolerances aside of course.  The human liver is well equipped to deal with the odd non-organic ingredient, as long as it is functioning well.  I’m fairly sure that Little’un isn’t downing a bottle of White Lightning behind the bike sheds with her mates on a Friday night, so I think she’ll be OK.

I really think that the best thing we can do is to teach her that the odd bad food day is fine, as long as her diet is good on the whole.  I don’t want her to grow up with any unhealthy attitudes to food, and in all honesty I think that total avoidance of certain types of food is just storing up future problems. 

Everything in moderation, after all.  It’s such a shame that the only thing that I do in moderation is practising moderation itself.  It’s very much a case of do as I say, not as I do.  Hopefully I’ll get this sorted out before she’s old enough to notice that I am a complete hypocrite.

Now, where did I leave those Cadbury’s Mini Rolls?

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