Help, I need some Body, Help, not just any body, I need my body...just less of it!

I have to have a deadline.
The 1st September 2011 is it. Tomorrow I am going on a diet. I know it is not good to deprive yourself but to be fair I like ALL food so I will have to cut out something.
I have tried 'FatReducers' a humiliating 5 times, no course working as well as the first time. Each visit I start weighing more and give up having lost less. The financial cost however is more each year (reminds you it is a business)!
So following the example of @jojohedgehog who is quitting smoking with the support of her FB & Twitter friends, I am roping in the help of Twitter.
My thinking being, I am letting down a whole lot more people if I don't try & I am documenting my travails, putting it into print so as to be held accountable!
I am doing this for my family and my health.
The more help the better. Today... @wifenotlodger: So any DIET suggestions? As long as they are safe & palatable I will give them a go....(use the tag) #WifeysTwitterDiet ..and Exercise tips, I need ideas... #WifeysTwitterDiet
First responses,
@wombat37: I used SparkPeople. It's free, full of all sorts of stuff & help. Lost 5 stone using the site. I immediately register, site looks good & is free!
@stickymitts:spark people is pretty good, takes a while at first to enter all the nutritional info of British foods though...It's good for emphasising the importance of exercise too, which I think is the most important bit. @wombat37:Quite a few are already on there, just search entries by other people.I also have a "food" called Calories which I've set up to be 1 cal per gram. Easy to enter just a number then. I've made a lot of good friends on there too, through the social teams. Lots of good support. @parkrunner: Good luck with diet.My advice is only way to lose weight is to eat a good diet but small portions exercise as much as poss>...and don't restrict yourself too much or you'll fail. I lost a couple of stone 6 years ago and kept it off by doing that
@weids_l just cut out bread and white flour worked for me Xxxx hugs
So I am all set. There is some great advice, which I need and will appreciate.
I will share #WifeysTwitterDiet with the ephemeral internet and hope it helps!!

Time to think, time to change.

Life is sweet here in Anglesey. I have had space to relax and think.
September for me as a teacher is 'New Year', I make plans, decisions and resolutions.
These days, I don't recognise myself, it seems through being a mother & girlfriend my appearance has become last in a long to-do list.
I do not know how I should look, what I should wear.
I have bin-bags of clothes, that I have swelled out of, but hope to shrink into again someday.
My hair neither flatters or deceives. It proclaims to the world at large that I have lost touch.
My weight has gradually grown over the years, encouraged by child-bearing and depression.
I now wear the weight of my past experiences like large panniers, holding the mistakes and traumas of the last decade.
But I am here now, at an indefinable start line, that were it to gave a title it would be, The Rest Of My Life.
I have a husband who loves me and children who are old enough to make their own decisions and choices, needing not the physical sheperding of the past, merely emotional support and 'huggage'.
I am rich.
What happens next is up to me.
What happens next is truly exciting.
Watch this space...

A review wot I wrote...

Green Man fires up first-timers « FamilyFestivals

I always knew the time would come when I had to talk about S-E-X with Small Boy and Girl.
I have tried to be open and relaxed.
I was given this lovely book when I was little- took me years to think about procreation without wearing striped jumpers!

Whilst Big Boy sprints for the bathroom swathed in towels , I try to brazen it out naked styly!
Every so often, at bathtime, I have used to opportunity to air the correct language ( as recommended by the Sex Education advice at school) , Remember to wash your VAGINA, clean behind your SCROTUM
 (the children look bewildered as I over enunciate and bellow, through embarrassment, rendering the words foreign and unusual)!
This doesn't always work out  quite as you hope- after a long discussion on mustaches with Small Boy, he wandered into the bathroom as I was showering, glanced across casually at my 'front bottom' and said " Nice Mustache, Mum!"
You try and answer each question as honestly as possible, but who amongst us does not use some shortening  phrase, front bottom, willy etc.I have to say I hate the word penis, just saying it makes my lips press together in a Mary Whitehouse way, but I have persevered using correct parlance where possible.
So now,it was the time to reveal that the birds and bees are not so far short of the truth,I researched books on the internet and made my selection.

Mummy Laid an Egg- Babette Cole

Where Willy Went- Nicholas Allen

I took the books round to a friends one evening where we drank wine and evaluated them, ( yes really and a cracking night it was too I can't recommend it enough , maybe there is a whole new market- an alternative to 'Baby Showers)!'
I planned to read them the stories while camping, there they could ask me as many questions as they liked, get it all out of their system before going back to school!I hoped the 8yro would benefit most and the 6yro take in as much information as his brain needed at that age...Of course Gales and rips in tents foreshortened that plan so it actually occurred at we were walking down the street...
"Mummy why don't you have another baby? I mean you are a lady so why not?" -Small Boy
I decided to seize this opportunity and run;
" Well do you know how babies are made?" Silence.
"Well it involves a seed and an egg."
" A seed!" The look on 8yros face was so disgusted that I thought I was going to get the giggles so I hurriedly postponed it until we were back at home. I sat them on the sofa and read both books.
The End.
No reaction, no questions...like a stone into deep water with no ripples.
However I feel something will emerge when they have had time to digest the information ( I can't wait!).

Just hoping the questions get asked at home - though I fear they might be aired elsewhere so I apologise in advance if your child comes home having been 'educated' by mine!
P.S.
Small Boy seemed excited about finding out what his wrinkly, saggy testicles were for ( perhaps previous to this he thought they were excess skin waiting to fall off?)

Self Help & Dirty Feet

'Self help' What is that all about?

Well it is definitely better than being locked in a room with the best the NHS can supply!

I finally get an appointment for 'Psychotherapy', 6 years after the main crisis loomed!

I feel positive, mentally agile and ready to put the final seal on my recovery with some good strategies for maintaining mental well-being...

...then I step into my first 'session' with The Counsellor', she has dirty feet and straggly hair and clothes in shades of brown. She takes up a position that is slanted away from me, poor body language- in an interview she would be shown the door before a question was answered!!

She gives me reams of paperwork to fill in and asks the occasional question with a long drawn out ...'yes' to follow, I feel like saying rhubarb in response and seeing if she still answers in the affirmative.

She asks me what I want to achieve out of this 'treatment'.

I say honestly, 'strategies and concrete responses that will help me build my confidence and maintain well being'....

More sighing and limp questions, then she asks me again, I say, more firmly now, 'I want actions and responses not just talking' ....

..she mentions Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, my heart quickens, but she speaks, with the slowness of a Pope,

"I feel that there is more to explore, more discussion to come."

'Oh please no!' We are now running over an hour and my will to survive is melting.

..... "I state again- more stridently, even daring to mention 'CBT' obviously- a no-no in 'counsel speak' let them divine what you want- usually the opposite of what you are saying!

"I think my colleagues in CBT could probably do something good with you but....there is just some thing intriguing, I feel we need to talk more, you are un-resolved"

...( 'yes as to whether to throttle you?')

She asks me to do a checklist of how I am feeling right now, it comes out dangerously high on the Harm/self harm side, she does not realise that it's her I might want to harm...

...she mentions past desires to do harm to one-self

" But it wasn't serious? I mean you never actually did it"!

DUH!! And you became a counsellor how?

Finally she protractedly explains that although she has normally made a decision at the end of this 'interview' she feels she needs to see me again...

...absolutely not I think!

I go home and order the complete Paul Coelho works and 'CBT for Dummies' from Amazon,

SELF HELP!

like my voice, delayed in the ephemeral post!

I wrote this at Easter but never got round to posting it...
It’s perhaps unusual that I should find my blog voice again on the cold coasts of Holland. Then again the bracing arctic winds are great for sinuses and clearing out anxieties!
I have been struggling for words over the past year. Not vocabulary, for I have lots of words waiting to be used, but for the air to speak them with. This pausing and stumbling manifested itself in a minor way during stressful times of my life but now, when I am out of a toxic stressed environment and feel well, it has come back full force, gripping my larynx in a tight grasp that can only have a physical cause, or so I thought!...
But apparently it is a ‘common’ manifestation in people who have suffered from depression and anxiety. It seems so unfair that as I enter the stage of my recovery where all the work-related ‘nastiness’ seems a dim distant memory (on someone else’s page) that this has appeared.
I have been having speech therapy and for most of it have fought all the way that it is mind related. It is such a physical sensation for me. However as I get to grips with the problem, how best to manage it and how not to let it put me off speaking I feel I am on the right path again.
As with anyone suffering a ‘speech dysfluency’ or in my case a stammer, the person begins to dread certain words and letter sounds.
‘K’ was a bad one and when I was supply teaching in a particular class with a Kayleigh followed by a Kaine it was a daily struggle to tackle each name equally, one child always came off worst!!
You feel like the person you are speaking to thinks you are dissembling as you, stumble over words,blush and your eyes begin to slide away, as you try to calm your larynx- all classic lying 'tells'!!
.....now to present day and August!
How did I cope with this?
I decided I had to keep talking whatever may! I kept teaching until I was made redundant this July and now have a 'party-plan' business selling Jamie Oliver home wares in peoples houses- using my raconteur skills for a living!!I will not give in!
After all a little breathiness went a long way for Marilyn didn't it?
"Boop boop de Boop!!"
Blonde and a bit blonde!!
"I am involved in a freedom ride protesting the loss of the minority rights belonging to the few remaining earthbound stars. All we demanded was our right to twinkle. "
Marilyn Monroe

WoW

I write my 4-year-old son is recovering from the trauma of wandering off a cliff and dying! His avatar that is!

His granddad, my dad, has got him hooked on World of Warcraft (WOW), an online fantasy role-play game. Small Boy is 'Piggy Mon' and Small Girl is 'Lyonessuz'.

Grandad left the room for a second and Small Boy climbed a tree ( as boys do) and dropped off a cliff, cue much crying and devastation until Granddad brought him back to life!

There is a life lesson right there! All without leaving his seat!

This activity is keeping in the family tradition; I was inducted (brainwashed!) into Dungeons and Dragons and Tunnels and Trolls at the tender age of 9! It was a major past time in our house and all the neighbours kids would be round to play and dice roll through various situations.

My brother still has not let me forget that my Elf Legolas threw a spear without looking and stuck him in the back! That's 26 years ago!

It was normal to me to have talk of Trolls and Orcs and this was while Peter Jackson was still doing homework and dreaming!

On going to university in a different country away from my family I knew exactly what to do on fresher's week and I headed to the Fantasy Role Play Soc… only to find it was populated by spotty males in denim, their eyes lighting up at the thought of a female member!

Turning on my heel I tried the Science Fiction society, this at least had female members! However the first meeting descended rapidly into a testosterone fueled argument along the lines of " How many Dicks have you got?"

Philip K Dick that is!

I kid you not!

So sadly my role-playing fantasy and science fiction has been kept firmly behind home doors until now! My dad and younger brother are hooked and meet up online in WOW to interact and 'play together'.

I have resisted because I have the funny feeling I too will be hooked!

As a quick rule of thumb watch this,

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkCNJRfSZBU

if it makes you laugh then you are a natural gamer and or may have played in the past!

if you mutter "nerds" or " utter twaddle" then don't worry this world is not for you, you are obviously well balanced holding down a good job and providing for dependents!

Tunnels & Trolls (abbreviated T&T) is a 1975 fantasy role-playing game designed by Ken St. Andre and published by Flying Buffalo. The second modern role-playing game ever published, it was developed to be a simpler alternative to Dungeons and Dragons suitable for solitaire and play-by-mail gameplay.

Hi's and Lows

I had another 'outing' last night! I am quite the social animal these days! No not really! It was a long-standing invite, a friend and inspirational colleague was retiring after 40 years! Although yet again I wanted to stay at home in my comfort zone (pyjamas and TV and bed at 11pm) I owed it to Sara to get 'out there'!

It's strange being at a 'reunion'. To meet people you haven't seen for years, taking yourself back 11 years to when you first worked with them.

You can feel pulled, between who you were then and who you are now. Memories seem so perfect; you remember the Technicolor highlights not the real lows!

Life does move on inexorably but sometimes you can yearn for what has been.

I do, because I know what will happen, now I have the 'Knowledge' and could do it confidently, perhaps even better, if I got a second go!

But, of course, life is not like that, so for me ( always looking on the downside) to confront my memories is also about me measuring myself against my mistakes. What I could have done differently or better, what I did not do, opportunities that were not seized!

For me my biggest guilt is who I have lost contact with. My single-child free past was all about being able to drop everything and go off, to remember birthdays and occasions.

My children have changed me forever. They take pride of place, full precedence, thinking about them and being responsible for them fills my mind and there is no space for remembering birthdays, sending 'nice post to friends' impromptu nights out!

So ultimately the 'Reunion' was lovely, it was great to see everyone, to catch up on where they are now, brief snapshots and possible future 'meet-ups'.

It was just as nice however to sneak off and go home. To give the Big Boy a long cuddle that covered 11 years of shared history. To go upstairs and tuck in two small warm bodies and kiss their cheeks and whisper into their ears, "I love you very much."

Authors Note:

Midweek 'Mums trip out' to the cinema to see 'My Sister Keeper', was an enormous error, we cried, we sobbed and a small soggy tissue mountain was created!

It is frame after frame of, beautifully acted and shot, unexpurgated sorrow.

Like Pandora's box, it seems to have released a flood of emotions that have been lurking these last few days! Hopefully a run this afternoon will blow the cobwebs away (a good alternative to Chocolate Cake (9lb off to date!!!).

If you put 'soggy tissues' in as an image search on Google, this is the first image you get! Nuff Said!

Saturday Night, Sunday Morning

Last night I hit 'Town'!

Well actually I went for a meal to celebrate a girlfriends birthday and met all her mates who are a bit younger than me and (the important bit…) don't have kids!

Pre-Children, going out into Manchester was a given. Big Boy and I would think nothing of propping up our favourite bars, visiting a few of them as the mood took us and then rolling into a nightclub to finish off by drinking more and dancing till we dropped.

Post-Children that is not an automatic choice when we have a precious childfree weekend! I have become an expert at fending off invites to 'Go into town.' Initially it would be because one or other of the children was ill or sickening. Then it might be that I had nothing to wear, or couldn't afford it, couldn't cope with a late night and then getting up with the kids in the cruel morning and finally it was because I didn't feel that I could pass muster, in 'Town'. I was past it!

Post-Children we have got a house near a nice school but a more expensive taxi ride from 'Town'. You see, Manchester is always 'Town' and though we live in Stockport that is always, well Stockport!

Going out is either the coffee bars near us, which with their close proximity to home you don't tend to push the boat out very far, your bed is always calling.

Stockport Town Centre, forget it!

'Town', in my on-lookers, post-baby and past-it opinion is where IT's at. The bright lights, the buzz of people having a good time and the best people-watching material ever!

I started to go regularly into town a few years ago. I book theatre tickets for the Royal Exchange, and go, whatever it is, to feel me again, this is something just for me and the children know when Karen arrives that I am on one of my theatre nights and I will come back.

Just being in town and mixing with 'normal people' makes me realise I am still young (ish) life didn't end with children; in fact it is still there to be grabbed. Last night was further confirmation of that.

I drove; it really was how I persuaded myself to go (having a cheap quick exit parked around the corner). The company was enjoyable. The food was affordable. I felt like I fitted in (well no-one stared) and I didn't go on about the kids (much). I left like Cinderella on the stroke of…10 (Cinderella didn't have kids) and drove home to enjoy a bit of peace& quiet and dial-up TV. But it felt good .

When Big Boy lurched in from his local night out (boys are not as hampered by these hang-ups) I informed him, that in the future, now the children are older, we would be hitting 'Town'!

And enjoying it!

Tagged

Tagged by Katherine of Supply and Demand

This tag stuff is new to me and certainly not as easy as when we were at school- you only had to tag one person to pass on! Here goes!

8 Things I am looking forward to

1. Having a childfree weekend courtesy of my parents.



2. Seeing the children again!



3. Going out to see a friend for her birthday in town (v.rare event!)



4. Coming home to Big Boy, feeling glad I don't have to do all that anymore!



5. Undisturbed Lie-ins (in about 15 years?)



6. Small Boy starting school ( also dreading it!)



7. Losing more weight…



8. …then being able to eat what I like and stay thin.

8 Things I did yesterday

1. Got woken up by Small Boy

2. Checked clock without glasses on.

3. Got the kids up.

4. Went downstairs to make the packed lunches.

5. Checked the microwave clock

6. Saw it was 5am!

7. Went for a coffee after work with friends (see 1 above)

8. Went to see Transformers at the Cinema and loved all the silliness.

8 Things I wish I could Do

1. Achieve World Peace.



2. Lose weight fast



3. Eat biscuits and still lose weight



4. Cook nice puddings and still lose weight! (Ok stuck record!)



5. Not worry about worrying.



6. Never get cross with my children even at 5am.



7. Afford to on holiday abroad every school holiday!



8. Invent the self-cleaning house and give up cleaning forever.

8 Favourite fruits

1. Strawberry Cream tea



2. Cherry Garcia Ice-cream



3. Gooseberry Fool



4. Apple Crumble



5. Banana Split



6. Blueberry Cheesecake



7. Peach Bellini



8. White wine (grapes?)

8 Places I'd like to Travel

1. Rio De Janeiro (Central Station)



2. Wyoming (Brokeback Mountain)



3. New York (When Harry met Sally & The fisher King)



4. Greek Islands (Mama Mia, Mediterraneo)



5. Jordan (Transformers)



6. Mississippi (O Brother Where art Thou?)



7. New Zealand (Whale Rider)



8. Tokyo (Lost In Translation)

8 Places I have lived

1. Moss Side, Manchester



2. Hong Kong



3. Germany



4. Hyde, Manchester



5. Cyprus



6. Lincoln



7. Modena, Italy



8. Stockport, Gtr Manchester

Now I have to send this on....apologies!

http://twokidsandababy.blogspot.com/

http://lifeofwhisky.blogspot.com/

http://thearcheshighheadcastle.blogspot.com/

http://morechocandchipsplease.blogspot.com/

http://joanne-helpinghands.blogspot.com/

http://workingmumonverge.blogspot.com/

http://cerebralmum.com/

http://froginthefield.blogspot.com/ ( Know you have already been tagged so I am cheating here!)

Help me...I have been trying to resist for so long....

I have come to terms with the fact that I have a problem.

I have been trying to give up for years. I can go for quite long periods of time reducing and doing without but I always fall off the wagon! And now as I approach my forties I realised that I have to do something and get it sorted for good.

I love food, no really love food. I enjoy just looking through cookbooks for fun. I experience a small high just looking at the photos and reading the list of ingredients!

But it is an addiction, I constantly think about what I want to eat, plan meals, if I am feeling down or I want to cheer the children up then I automatically think of food.

Cake and a cup of tea is my panacea, my anti-biotic.

The problem is I eat too fast; I inhale the food without tasting it so that when I have finished I want to eat it all over again just to taste it properly.

I know what Paul McKenna and all the other self-help gurus have said and 'yes' I do put my fork down between mouthfuls and count my chews! I have even trained the kids to tell me off when I am eating too fast.

Mind you this has been a lifetime addiction. When I was younger my lifestyle balanced the food I ate, I was naturally more active. It has been as I became a young adult and left home that eating became more out of control!

Loaves of homemade garlic bread, in the halls of residence; chips and cheese after the nightclub and cakes in crinkly paper trays, fresh from the bakers.

Add to that the fact that I have always put on weight in times of stress and I am doomed.

I am anxious and I eat. I am depressed and the food tastes like sawdust, I eat more to get a taste, to feel that taste bud high. Anaemic and lacking in energy, I eat hoping that I will get out of bed with a Popeye-spinach-induced' vault of energy.

As for childbearing! What joy being able to eat for two? Feeling that I couldn't refuse my tadpole anything and the urges, the flip in the tummy as I passed a bakery were my 'bean' saying I am hungry go on in!

So here I am, I have acknowledged my addiction. I have shared it with my family.

Small boy " Are you fat Mummy?"

Me " No I am not fat, that is not a nice word, I am overweight, which is not healthy so I am trying to lose weight so that I can be healthy."

Small Boy " Is that the same as fat?"

I have tried to wage a war on my appetite on my own.

I run but my knees and ankles are going to go on strike unless I shift some of the load.

I serve my meals on smaller plates. I cook healthy low fat dishes and Big Boy gets thinner whilst I...lets just say Jack Sprat and his wife!

I run, I run, me and Forrest Gump...but I still grow,it's the hidden mouthfuls, the crusts when I am making the packed lunches, the kids leftovers, the odd treat with the cup of tea, the late night snacks ( does it count after 9pm?

I knew I could not do it alone…and so I walked through the doors of Weight watchers (for the 4^th time) and got on the scales.

I am Jo and I love food…

Our love has changed...

...it's not the same,
and the only way to say it,
is say it, it's better.
Tom Baxter

It's been so long... the thing is..I had to keep a secret and I am the world's worst secret-keeper. I love a good bit of gossip and as gossip goes, this was fab!
After yet another traumatic interrogation ( no exaggeration) by customs on a 'lone-female-with-kids' trip abroad things changed.
Big Boy went for the extremely-small wedding concept floated by myself with no alcohol or bribery involved!
We felt very strongly that it was about us as a family so it was going to be linked to a holiday already booked. Only the children and two friends as witnesses, then pop off on holiday and tell everyone on our return!
Simple eh?
Oh I so pity those contemplating the full-blown affairs!
Our nuptials could not have been simpler, could they?
Well apart from the ridiculous cost of gold! We went for slightly unusual recession recommended titanium!
The florists! I just wanted simple buttonholes, I got talked into a 'corsage' with 'crystals' ( on pins- perhaps I could remove them?) with 4 buttonholes totalling twenty pounds. Then a small posy for Small Girl (lovely idea I thought) was to be forty pounds! When I cancelled that I had a irate florist on the phone saying I had better come down and "See Me!" I managed to head her off from a complete strop by immense flattery and grovelling.

This is a small wedding!
I have to say Big Boy has made me fall in love with him all over again not bad after 11 years!
Every email I sent about the registry office,or the rings or the pub was received with calm commitment! This man was not for turning!
I meanwhile didn't quite believe it was going to happen!!!!!!!!

Everything was ready pub, taxi, outfits, florist, hairdressers and friends.

The weekend before we realised we could not do it without our Mums and Dads, we had wanted to keep it small but, as the ones we love most dearly, we wanted them there.

We just didn't give them enough time to make a big fuss or tell people!

My mum still managed to cram in a mammoth 4 hour shopping trip for the perfect dress, shoes, cardigan, and jewellery!

The day was wonderful. I had nerves. I cried and we all smiled and laughed a lot!

'Don't Go In The Water...' ( Jaws 1975)

Well it seemed like a great idea, now that both Small Boy and Small Girl have swimming lessons at the same time, 'Why don't I lane swim?'

It must be better than sitting, sweltering, in the overheated spectator area, trying to spot my progeny from the bobbing heads and panicking, momentarily, as they submerge, breathing out as they reappear ( why is it always when the instructor is looking the other way?).

In the past I have spent the time, extracting Small Boy from between the flip-up seats ( he was there a while before I realised he was stuck!), bribing him with Monster Munch from the vending machine which always results in a trip to the reception desk because my money is stuck or ,on one memorable occasion, Small Boy's hand!

Possibly the worst 'hot-flush moment' was when Small Boy was playing on the stairs, as I always warn him not to, ( then look the other way and hope he obeys) I caught sight of him as he tripped and then rolled down the steps, in a 'Harold Lloyd ' style, all the way to the pool edge where, thankfully, he came to a stop. By this point the whole pool had also come to a stop as people watched the spectacle and I had to stand ( admitting he was mine) and retrieve boy, whilst trying to appear like a Mum who has Control!

Anyway that is all a distant memory ( I hope) and I have regained enough confidence to dis-robe, exposing my swim-suit clad body for micro-seconds, hopefully, as I get into the water and swim! I do not want to horrify anyone apart from my children!

Unfortunately as the 'family-sized' changing rooms are by the splash pool we have to make a detour there, by order of the children,before I can hide in the depths!

Though I am now stranded in knee-depth water, I still try to attain full immersion in the hope that objects look smaller when seen through water (it's the reflections you know)!

Just as we are about to go to the lesson I realise that my locker key has gone. It had been pinned to my strap. Full alert! I try and search through the pool and re-trace steps but to no avail! I have to attract the attentions of the lifeguard ( who fits the lifeguard stereotype, y'know what I mean?) sucking in , stretching up and waddling to avoid displaying my bum in its full, wobbly glory, I tell him my problem.

'What number is it?' , I can't remember so, horrors, I have to walk away from him to check. I haven't been brave enough to see my rear view for years so I have no idea how horrific it may look. Is it my imagination or has he blanched a little by my return?

I tell him the number and wait to hear his words of wisdom when my friend looks weirdly at me and points.

'It's there...'

It had slid up under my hairline on my halter-neck strap.

When I had gone to the loo I had inadvertently pushed it out of sight as I put my costume on again!

I looked up at the life guard and tried to be cool ( cool, cool, cool does not stop me blushing).

'Oh here it is!' Then I walk the line, butt clenched, I make it into the depths and try swim home.

I am glad I am not about for swimming next week. Perhaps after two weeks he will have forgotten the nutter who hid the key in her hair or perhaps I will have metamorphosed in to Elle 'the body' McPherson?

Rocking all over the Road....

I am sure I lost a few brain cells this weekend so excuse me if I am under-par on the vocabulary front.
Big Boy and I went out not one night but two and while my mind is still trying to function as an adult and a mother my body is refusing to follow instructions and is not listening, particularly like a 4 year old!
It all started to go a bit creative Friday night when a friend and I had organised a band Night for the Parents Association at our children’s school.
In the pub on a Friday, many weeks ago it seemed to be a brill idea, surely inside every hard working 30 something (plus) parent there is a rocker dying to get out every once in a while?
You would have though so…but advance sales had not gone well despite me pushing tickets at the front of school Thursday and Friday, haranguing parents just when they need it least (at drop off and pick up!)
‘ Band Night, come to Band Night…’
Still we rocked, we drank, we broke even, the bands were fab, people danced and everyone I know had terrible hangovers surely that ticks all the boxes for a Good Night?

I had provided crayons for people to doodle on the paper tablecloths if they wished! Lovely Mummy was clearing the tables at the end and came up to me,
‘I didn’t know whether you wanted to keep your tablecloth?’
I smiled, completely unaware of what she was talking about until downloading the photos of the night to find that my lovely (non-parent friends) had been playing obscenity scrabble on the tablecloth!

I managed to fold up tables and benches in heels, half-cut, nearly snogged the caretaker (!) and wobbled home (Big Boy had departed first to relieve Nana- sitter).
Somehow I managed to end up wearing someone’s lawn on my heels on the way home, my beautiful shoes which spend their days wrapped in tissue paper, in their box, to be looked at, but occasion less most of the time, I was devastated!
My knees were in agony the next day, a combination of heels and unaccustomed jigging! But that was nothing compared to my head…never drinking again! That’s the 4th time I have said that in three weeks!
Who says Parents never get out!

Thanks to our Sponsors, Girlfriends Ma & Pa and Big Boy’s ma & Pa

The Snuffalufagus is alive.....

Today was an Outdoors day! Big Boy and I were celebrating the weekend between our birthdays by having a family outing.

Last year we took them to Knowsley Safari Park. As we came to the baboon enclosure we noticed the new 'car friendly' route!

'No ' I cry, definitely not, 'lets take them the full-on baboon up-close-and-very-personal route, after all we always did it as kids!'

I was driving, Big Boy was manning the camera, with a definite Blair witch effect.

It was like a car graveyard, I was torn between not slowing down and perhaps wearing a cute baboon baby as a hub cap cover... or slowing and letting them on to do unmentionables to our car.

Note: it is funny when you can see the Merc in front getting it!

We lost a windscreen wiper trim and were lucky!

The kids screamed hysterically and tried to get in the front simultaneously.

As we left, profoundly shaken by the event, we remembered that as kids we had been similarly traumatized!

So how to top it this year!

Nothing so ambitious...

We were going to become a family who walk...in the outdoors! ( Weather dependent mumbled Big Boy) as I skipped to bed , full of the joys of being a brill 'outdoors Mummy (tomorrow)!

6am and the kids are up as usual.. so I whistle a happy tune...

( honest , after a cup of tea anyway) a...nd set to work making a mountain of sandwiches and boiling eggs. A picnic isn't a picnic without eggs..even if it is only Big Boy and I that will entertain them!

Lie to Big Boy about the weather ( it is starting to rain) .. get him out of bed and off we go...to the Great Outdoors

...very rainy on the way up, but blue skies during our 'hour beginners trek', flat and easy,

though it took 2hours because of all the collecting,twigs, sticks, small trees, pine cones, more pine cones and of course photos to prove we had done it!

See photo of tree and the famous Dam Busters dam!

But..


Picnic in the boot of the car because the rain had started, an exact parallel with last year, but there weren't any elephants watching us..just ducks which meant that most of my lovingly prepared sandwiches went their way, courtesy of Small Boy and Girl.

'Ducks don't like tuna...'

'Yes they do!'

All in all a successful day.


But we come back to a garden that looks like World War One has been recreated, earth every where, scrapes in the soil and a huge freaking hole in the bank!

The badgers have moved in! I needn't have bothered leaving home to see the Great Outdoors , it's right outside my doorstep . . . literally!

...later...

I have just come in from a run, ( no comment .. but small seismic wobbles have been reported in the Stockport vicinity) and there is crashing and crunching in the bushes like the special effects of an old Horror movie..the one where the lone female jogger gets it....

It sounds huge and I wont be going into the Great Outdoors that is the bottom of our garden in a hurry..even if Big Boy holds my hand and wears his sexy head torch!

Mums on Margaritas Mob Morecambe

While uploading my photos I came across this cracker! Whilst wishing to remain as anonymous as possible on my blog I feel that this encapsulates particularly well the mood of the night!

Bring me Sunshine!http://www.morecambe.co.uk/index.php

Maternal Instincts and Margarita's don't mix!

Half-term holidays in Morecambe.

Bring me Sunshine, in your smile,

Bring me Laughter, all the while,

In this world where we live, there should be more happiness,

So much joy you can give, to each brand new bright tomorrow

To celebrate 3 days in Morecambe with our children and no 'significant others' a girlfriend and I decided to eat out. Planning ahead, we walked to the venue and started as we mean to go on- with cocktails!

It was quite surreal, drinking cocktails in our scruffy walking clothes while simultaneously attempting to construct an origami parrot that F&B thoughtfully provide as a young un's past time!

Despite arriving at 4.45, by 6.15 our food had not arrived, and by now we were on our second round of cocktails and considering a Jug of same... ( better value in a credit crunch!). The kids had abandoned origami and colouring and were doing hand-jives and swapping seating arrangements under the table.

Whilst clearing the detritus to prepare for our main course (when oh when...) I set fire to the origami paper with the candle (for ambiance). After a good Basil Fawlty impression as I wafted the flames out we were now surrounded by a burnt ambiance that brought the waiter over...( still no mains!)

Finally our Jug of Margarita arrived closely followed by the Mains ( like a rainbow follows rain!) At this point we would have made good subjects for a Beryl Cook painting as, red-cheeked, we were full of the joys! The kids were happy and we were happy and they gave us all our drinks free to say sorry!

Replete and each clutching a balloon we set off for out moonlit wander home.

Any one fancy crossing the Irish sea on F&B balloons? Small Boy is keen...watch this space!

P.S.

Why is it that however late my children go to bed, they still are up at cock-crow! Not good when you have been drinking!

P.P.S.

Bring me Sunshine, in your eyes,

Bring me rainbows, from the skies,

Life's too short to be spent having anything but fun,

We can be so content, if we gather little sunbeams.
Be light-hearted, all day long,

Keep me singing, happy songs,

Let your arms be as warm as the sun from up above,

Bring me fun, bring me sunshine, bring me love.

Out of the mouth of babes!

I am stewing, literally ( beef!) and metaphorically! While I was 'in position' in front of the Hob Small Boy comes in for a Deep and Meaningful...
'Are you married to Daddy?'
'No'
'Who are you married to?'
'No-one'
'When I grow up and I am a daddy, can I get married?'


( I though he was going to ask me here but no such luck- like Father like son!) 'Yes when you find someone you are very good friends with you might get married.'
'Why are you not married to Daddy?'
'I don't know, you'll have to ask him?'
' Do you have to get married?'
'Well no, it's just something you might do if you love someone very much ...(am I wrong?)'
'I am not going to get married, I am going to be like daddy!!!!!'

Hmmm, well daddy has just got a nasty shock in the post. It was from the Passport Office and as we are trying to get Small Girl's passport through before we go to abroad in March I opened it thinking there was a problem!
And what a Problem!
As Big Boy does not have parental responsibility ( in common with all unmarried dad's in the UK, of children registered before December 2003) Then the child's' mother must write the word Mother, print full name and sign and date, 'confirming that she agrees to a passport being issued to...'

This reminds me of when I received an interrogation from Customs on the way into the Netherlands last year!
' Does the father of these children know you are taking them out of the country?'
This was nothing compared to the grilling the children received for the armed Dutch customs on the way back, they did not even speak to me just asked the children to tell them if I was their mother!
All because they have their dad's surname!!

And to cap it all my 'not an engagement ring just an I-love-you-very-much-and-it's-been-10-years' ring has lost one of it's stones! Bought under extreme duress in Bruges after a 'non-proposal' moment at the top of the Belfort tower!


Is it a message from the Gods?
I don't know what the answer is and I certainly don't know what I want anymore, I am moderately happy being a girlfriend, I don't want to be a partner! But how do we not permanently warp our children's perception of marriage?

Just in case you are wondering...Thanks Wikipedia!

Girlfriend is a term that can refer to either a female partner in a non-marital romantic relationship or a female non-intimate friend.
The term is most commonly used to describe any female person who is in a romantic relationship with another person.
Partners in a non-marital relationship are also sometimes described instead as a significant other, partner or life partner especially if the two partners are living together. At times, since "girlfriend" and "partner" mean different things to different people, the distinctions between the terms are subjective, and which term is used in a relationship will ultimately be determined by personal preference.
When used by a girl or woman about another female in a non-sexual, non-romantic context, the two-word form "girl friend" is sometimes used to avoid confusion with the sexual or romantic meaning. "Girlfriend" is usually used in terms of very close friends and usually has no sexual connotation in that sense of its usage, unless it is in the case of lesbian, bisexual and pansexual women. The term also has currency in LGBT communities and can refer to people of any gender or sexuality.
Though nuanced, there is a significant difference between "girlfriend" and "boyfriend", and "girl friend" and "boy friend". In a strictly grammatical sense, a "girlfriend" or "boyfriend" is an individual of significance with whom one shares a relationship. A "girl friend" or "boy friend", however, is simply a friend identified on the basis of gender. The transition between the two is a significant aspect of adolescent development.
This term when used between men and women does not necessarily imply a sexual relationship, but is often used to refer to a woman who is dating a man she was not engaged to, without implying that she is having sex with him. . It is essentially equivalent to a prior term used, "sweetheart" which is also a term of endearment
PS I am second on a Google search!

Oh I need this...! Missed my 'venting' opportunity!

Blogging is such a good destressor that one could be forgiven for thinking that I have been having a wonderfully stress free life since I last posted!

I think the answer is that the opposite has been true, I have been doing some great headless chicken impressions whilst not managing to find any down time... here I am, new Years resolution no 11 implemented on the 6Th Feb ( not bad!)

Now I am not going to go on about time flying- cos we all know it does, I mean Christmas is still a bright memory and already there is Easter chocolate everywhere you look in the supermarket, making shopping a very stressful outing with the small ones!

Anyway shopping is a thing that seems more distant than Christmas what with the 'Credit Crunch' and me working FULL TIME!

January saw a new dawn, my New Year's resolution to iron (anything- tea-towels are my favourite) lasted all of a couple of days as I got work covering for a colleague who has had an operation! I haven't worked full time since Small Girl was born!

It's a challenge to make sure I have clean clothes and tights! Who wears tights when they don't work? And my hair has had to adapt to vaguely tidy which means I have had to brush it ( sometimes). In fact when looking me over it is best to start from the bottom and work up because it doesn't improve!

Anyway the pupils have been fab and not eaten me alive, I think they like me, as there has been no repeat of the 'Pritt Stuck' pencil case onto the desk!

My home life has adapted well!

Big Boy, while still not achieving a vertical stance before I leave the house, has become adept at clearing up the kitchen last thing at night. So much so, I come down to a Martha Stewart dream environment in the morning and that is definitely the way to win a woman's heart!

All my pre-Christmas practice at seeing the hour of 6am has been valuable as I manage to slip into another day by making a first mug of tea, whilst simultaneously laughing along with Sarah Kennedy, preparing lunchboxes, making the breakfast and feeding the cat.

Where does the time go though as I seem to get no more achieved in 2hours, than I did in the mad 1 hour scramble?

Any spare time I have is spent conjuring up great cheap meals- let me count the ways you can present a turnip as a main course!! More on that subject to come!!!