Mummy at the School Gate

Like all women I love to shop as long as it's not in the supermarket. Today, I thought I'd brave the roads, as the snow has now melted and I am able to walk to the car without being beaten back by the heaps of snow which had formed in the drive making it impossible for me to get the car out.  On closer inspection I can now see that the "heaps of snow" were in fact "heaps of gravel".  BH had been shovelling not just the snow...it was no wonder he'd worked up a sweat! I left the kids at home with BH (Miriam is still ill with au-pair flu), so armed with my list, my credit card and feeling excited about a quiet coffee, I left feeling quite liberated!  To be honest I just needed to get out of the house for a few hours without a gaggle of  kids or dogs.... BH wanted to come..a big NO from me...just for today!

I'm not normally a Daily Wail reader, but that's all they had at the corner shop this afternoon, apart from the Racing Post!  I needed some tangible contact with the outside world, as I've watched so much TV I'm beginning to feel  like the Old woman who lives in a shoe!  BH was not impressed on my return and asked me why I bothered buying it, I could look on the Internet if I needed to read something, but I like to hold something in my hands. Anyway, as I flicked through the paper I came across an article which pulled me up rather sharply. "Why did my best friend dump me?".

All that work for just one day!  I'm absolutely cream crackered and know that two weeks away somewhere nice with a couple of good books, (on my own ) would be just the tonic I need to be able to get back to some semblance of normality....but that ain't about to happen!  Apart from not getting to sleep until 4 am and being woken by Mimi at 4.15 am asking if it was "morning yet?", I felt quite on top of everything, when I woke yesterday morning.  The Christmas preparation list all ticked off, the kids presents all ready to be dumped in their rooms, the stockings filled, the crackers made (I impress myself on occasions!), the napkins folded, and the seating arrangements organised.   Ma was cooking the Turkey and sis was making the deserts so all that was left to me was arranging the table, cook the vegetables and make sure that there was enough wine and champagne to take away the pain of it all.

It seems that we are falling like skittles. First, my sister called me. "Are you sure it's OK that we come over to you on Christmas day?...I feel so rough at the moment I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do any shopping." "'Course it is!" I replied. Well of course it is...I've invited the whole family as we all seem to be in one place at the same time for the first time in about 5 years.  So there's Ma and Pa, BH's ma and pa all the way from the Emerald Isles (mainly to annoy me I think!), little bro' flies in from Germany, big sis and her husband, Ben and his girlfriend, and Sis's mother-in-law.  It is likely that we'll have Jude and her brood dropping in, and Stella and hers too so that we can play twister...oh joys! Not!  Particularly as Jude insists on bringing eggnog which I believe has been sitting in her fridge since 1984 and is oh...so disgusting!

This morning I was preparing the shopping list for the last foray into town (in the hope that the shelves haven't been cleared) when Mimi peered over my shoulder. "What's that?" she asked. "The food list for Christmas." BH laughed scathingly. "When have you ever gone out with a shopping list?  You normally walk around the store chucking random items in your trolley in the hope they'll be enough for a weeks worth of dinners.  Have you ever used those Black Beluga Lentils?  Or that tin of artichokes that's been nestling behind the anchovies?"

I found this poem in my son's english book, this morning.  I thought I'd share it here because I think it's funny.  I'm not sure that's what kids normally write about their mums (this poem is totally not true!) and I'm sure his teacher has a very bad impression of me now!! My Mum My mum is very ugly She has big warts on her nose She shouts when it's time for bed She always wears the same clothes My mum is very funny She smiles when she is sad She shouts when it's time for dinner Her breath smells really bad My mum is really rude sometimes She says bad words that are naughty She shouts when we are playing Because she thinks we are very noisy My mum is kind to everyone She likes to cook them dinner She shouts at them on the telephone But I think my mums the winner.

'Tis the season to be jolly....and all that, but apart from the kids there's not much cheer around!  I've been stuck in doors with the kids and dogs for the past few days along with a moaning Au-pair who just wants to go home to Slovakia for Christmas but like the thousands of others is stranded. She, however, is stranded in relative comfort unlike those camping out at Heathrow!  But she likes to remind me that she is here under sufferance and would never in a million years choose to remain here with my "dysfunctional family" adding "Zere is somesing not right about you all".  Which means that she now has to spend Christmas with us, as it will be unlikely that she will be able to get home...unfortunately! "But I vont to go home" "I know...but you can't" "But if I have to stay stuck in here with you...I sink I vill go crazy"

I'm sitting in my office (as usual) l ooking out of the window, and it looks like the world has stopped.  Saturday morning and one week before Chrsitmas and the roads are as dead as a dodo!  The postman has just knocked at the door with a parcel so it seems that some services are well worth the money!  I certainly didn't expect anyone to rock up to my door today.  The road outside is unusually quite ( apart from the fact that the road hasn't been gritted) and the few cars that pass by are driving incredibly carefully, although there are the odd one or two which whizz by...guess they have snow chains as is their confidence. The kids and the dogs are playing madly (particularly the dogs) in the garden building igloo's and snowmen!  At the moment we have around four snowmen of varying sizes, we did have six but Peewee decided to urinate on one causing it to collapse and Mimi kicked the other one to death!! Mimi is now sitting in the kitchen moaning that she can no longe

I always love being  centre stage and am a bit of an attention seeker (as Jude will testify as during a recent disagreement she accused me of "wanting to be the centre of attention"! True, because I always am! ), so why is it that my kids try to hide in the shadows if the focus is shone on them?  I want them to be confident, well-rounded individuals, and if that means taking to the boards and strutting their stuff while being a donkey or a star, then so be it.  I want them to do it without the fear of making a fool of themselves. There is nothing  wrong with laughing at yourself, and everything wrong about taking yourself too seriously! I'm not a pushy mother (unlike Marion, who forces her kids into delivering a word perfect performance) , and I'm not a competitive mother (unlike Stella, who'll force her poor babes onto the running track at 6 am because "they show a talent") , but base my methods on  more of  the nurturing, encouraging school of thought

I belong to a forum and have spent the last couple of years contributing my fivepee's worth.  I know I don't always get it right but try to be as diplomatic as possible without ruffling any feathers, and I think I've done not a bad job even if I say so myself.  I hope I've been supportive and looked at all angles of the picture before I throw my words into the circle. Without doubt, the forum has saved my sanity if not my life.  I'm not exaggerating when I say that "stuff" has been bad in the past year, but without the my "daily fix", I'm not sure I would've come out the other end.  I've made friends with people I've never met, and they have offered my words of support and comfort.  Some of them I have now met ( we've been going through the same stuff ), and I can say, hand on heart that they will always be a friend. However, there are some on this forum that will never be my friend.  Some that ruffle the feathers of others

I love new technology and am the first to embrace new methods of communication, but Facebook?  It is the absolute limit!! I spend hours and hours each day (when do I ever have time to work, you say?) , playing stupid games, looking at friends profiles and finding out what they're doing, and trying to find old friends who probably wouldn't add me, as they would've kept in touch with me anyway!  Hand on heart, I can honestly say, that I find it an absolute waste of my time. A few months ago, one of my "friends" kept sending me "gifts" from Frontierville. I was intrigued as she seemed to be having a better time than me and I don't like being left out. So I started with Frontierville, which was fun for a while.  I then had to install a "pit" which meant I had to join in with other games, which also meant that I had to play other games to get the gifts I needed for my pit.  So Cafe world, Mafia Wars, and Farmville joined the ever growing lis

After spending the past 2 hours in the garden clearing away the winter debris I came across a lot of poo (very clearly Bart hadn't done his naughty chore!), scattered all over the lawn!!  I have no idea who is the culprit, but Chubba has been trained to "go" in the bushes, so I have to assume the Peewee is to blame (very clearly Chubba is not doing his job either!!), unless we have a great Dane visiting! I wouldn't mind so much if it was to the side of the lawn near the borders, but as I was walking over to the veg garden I must have stepped into about 10 pats...which were the size of a cow or at the very least, the size that I assume that the visiting great Dane would do!!!  They are massive!  As you can see, from my exclamation marks, I'm in shock. Peewee is half the size of Chubba.  The bag I collected from the garden must weigh more than Peewee, himself. In fact I can honestly say that the bag was bigger than Peewee. BH told me that there was a lot of poo,

This morning after I dropped the kids off, I met up with Marion for a quick coffee before I braved the crowds.  I was hoping that it would be quite and I would get a place to park, but obviously as everyone had the same thought I spent 20 minutes fighting to find a parking space.  No sooner had I spotted one than some great 4x4 swooped in to the space I had earmarked for myself.  Luckily I escaped unscathed, but I saw a couple of arguements happening and was rather pleased with myself that I didn't have to fight with anyone. Anyway, I met with Marion at Starbucks, and all I can say is that she was red-eyed and puffy faced. I have a feeling that she had been crying all weekend. She told me that she had gone to the office after she left us last week and ransacked the office.  She found, stashed away in the filing cabinet, his credit card statement, and information that she needed to confirm what she wanted to know.  She didn't go into too much detail, except to say that she sma

I find it really easy to swear and have a list of choice words up my sleeve, which I can use on a regular basis depending on who I am speaking with.  I find it hard to swear on paper though! BH swears like a trucker and often does it front of the kids which sends them into either a paroxysm of giggling, or into lectures of anti-swearing.  Now, I'm the first one to be disgusted when I hear a small child using foul language and often blame the parents...but I live in a glass house so I shouldn't be throwing stones should I?   I don't always notice when I'm swearing and I know BH doesn't either, but being reminded by your small children that you swear like a trooper is a little bit of a shocker.  A lot of the time I do it for effect and humour, but sometimes I forget where I am.   This morning I caught Finn telling Miriam that she was a "biatch" because she was making him put his toys away.  When Miriam protested and told him he was a "scumbag&quo

I know this is probably going to make me unpopular, but I'm actually quite proud of our student population. In a country where apathy is usually the norm, our student body has taken action, are rallying and protesting about the governments proposed increase into student fees for university education. As a mother with three children who are too young to make a stand, this proposal potentially scuppers their chances of attending university should they decide to at a later date. I can't afford to help all three, which means all of them will suffer because our leaders have decided that education is at a price!! Why should it be the rich that has the luxury of sending their children for further education? Once again, the ruling classes are dictating the future of the potential leaders of this once great country. Unlike Scotland and Wales (no disrespect intended to you), at the moment most graduates leave University with a debt of around £18,000. The student finance is not fre

I love christmas and birthdays, as BH buys me the most amazing presents. Me...I'm rubbish at getting him anything that resembles a "desire, want or wish", and end up getting him the most practical of items. Last year I bought him a pair of ski gloves, a garden vac, and some aftershave (which seems to end up in Barts room!). For my birthday this year, BH bought me a ipad...I was so excited and shocked, I think the excitement nearly made me faint! BH kept asking me, "Do you like it? Do you like it?"...I think he was more excited at my reaction! I keep wracking my brain for a "surprise" for BH that will knock his socks off. It's not that I lack imagination (probably is) but he really doesn't want or need anything unusual...apart from a pair of cowboy boots!! I've bought him a crate of wine from the wine club, and I had to tell him because I was so pleased with myself and I've already given him the ipod case, so all I've got to give

Yesterday, I met with "the girls" for our annual Christmas lunch...no drinks as I was driving! It is always a practical event as Marion organises a little shopping jaunt post lunch so that we are able to fit in a bit of Xmas buying. Some of the other mums join us and it's nice to catch up sans men. We can talk about them without the interjection of rugby or golf! Yesterday though, Marion brought a little shocker to the table. She was unusually subdued, but I'd put that down to the fact that her mum had been unwell. I'd been seated next to her and could feel her agitation. I'd been laughing with Jude about her reluctance to shop (and spend money) despite the fact that her hubby a partner in an accountancy firm. She had decided to shop at Poundland this year and was impressed with the vast array of gifts she could get...all for a pound. Her hubby is to do the three peaks challenge next year and she bought him an emergency tent...just in case. Anyhow, just

Peewee has settled in nicely and gets on very well with Chubba. Chubba plays with him like a doting grandfather and although it's nice to see, I just wish they wouldn't play fight near my feet. If I move into another room, they chase after my feet and tumble and flail, with gnashing teeth and deep throaty growls. I know they're enjoying themselves, but my poor feet seem to be the focal area for their games! This morning whilst I was emptying the teapot, Peewee tangled himself between my legs. Now, if I had been younger, lighter and fitter, I would have been able to simply hop over him and nimbly land on my two feet...unfortunately I landed on my knees! Collapsing into a heap, the pain and nausea was too much to bear and I lay face down moaning, with lovely loyal Chubba kissing/licking my face, trying (I believe) to revive me. Peewee had scuttled off to a corner and sat watching. BH heard the grunts (it's how he described it!), and came running into the kitchen sh

No one can bear liars, but I forgive them because they are either not brave enough or strong enough to deal with the consequences of the truth. But what about those who make excuses for their actions? "I did it because so and so made me do so" or "I did it, but I was suffering from blah, blah". Is it excusable? For me, excusers are worse than those who lie. The liars do it for a reason, either to protect themselves or to protect others. The ones who make excuses are deluding themselves, and although appearing to accept responsibility are placing the blame on the shoulders of something or someone else. This morning, as Bart was brushing his teeth, he was as usual fiddling around with the loo roll. He'd decided to unravel the roll and re roll it. I have no idea why nor does he, but he thought it would be a good idea. However, during the process he dropped the whole lot down the toilet, but instead of fishing it out, he flushed the toilet to get rid of the ev