Mummy at the School Gate

I watched something quite awful unfold on Twitter last week, and I began to wonder whether we are being a little bit too open about our personal lives?  I have nothing to hide about my personal life (except my identity!), and  my personal details are there for all to see. There are "crazies" out there, that we can be sure of, but I never expected to see such vitriolic abuse targeted at one individual. To cut a long story short, an individual, for reasons of their own decided to target a particular lady who had been campaigning and raising awareness for different charitable groups.  This lady had been open and honest and had suffered her own personal tragedy, but for some reason " the crazy" had decided that she was a charlatan.  Over a period of a week her "friends" had become the subject of a barrage mad tweets and saw the lady being reduced to a  quivering wreck and trying to explain to friends what had happened in a very moving audio boo .  Subsequent

We're not a morning family.  Our ride to school is generally quiet.  We don't talk.  Bart commandeers the radio as we make our 30 minute journey to the beat of drum and bass.  There's no arguing or fighting.  It really is quite peaceful apart from the thud of the radio. We pass two lollipop people on the way.  One elderly man and one elderly woman.  The lollipop man always waves as we pass and the kids wave enthusiastically back.  For some reason we call him Bob.  He's wiry and small and his bike is always propped up against the lamppost. A further 10 minutes into the ride is the other lollipop person. The lollipop lady never waves back. She never smiles. She too, rests her bike against the lamppost. We call her Miserable Madge.  The kids think that she maybe blind as she never sees them waving.  I've tried to tell them that it would be impossible to have a blind lollipop lady, but they're not having any of it.  We've been doing the same journey for the pa

                                                      

I think I've been bullied...well not exactly bullied but chastised for not doing something the wasn't in my remit!  How did I handle it?  Badly I think.  Initially, when he approached me, I apologised for not doing that thing I wasn't supposed to do. I apologised and remained calm and took responsibility for the error/oversight. But he kept on going!   Tell me once, and it goes in, but tell me a second, third and fourth time it becomes a little bit irritating. I'm not three! Sometimes I'm an adult.  It really was no biggie.  However, it was for him.   I think it may have been his passive/aggressive stance on the matter that raised the hackles. Stern faced, enunciated, clipped words, I declared,  "I will repeat myself, yet again...I apologise!" and with a toss of the hair I flounced off in the direction of the loo's where I had a weep at the anger mounting in me!  At that point I really wished I was a ninja! "Breath in, breath out, he's a

My au pair Miriam , is a beautiful sultry girl from the Slovak Republic or Slovakia as it is most commonly known. Most of the girls that have lived with us either come from Slovakia or the Czech Republic.  I've chosen them in particular because they have the "family values" that I want for my family.  I know that I can't tar everyone with the same brush, it's just that it has worked for me. However...Miriam is the exception to the rule.  Miriam is sensual; Miriam languishes; she loves burning candles and incense sticks. She loves long, bubbly baths with big fluffy towels.  Miriam walks the dogs in stilettos (how?), and loves my red lipstick (on her!) Miriam loves MTV.  Miriam loves raiding my wardrobe, and Miriam loves men...all men! As was usual for a Sunday early evening we had all settled down to watch a movie. Mimi was in bed and the boys were snuggled up on the sofa with BH.  Ben , (22 and stunning!), was on the other sofa, with his laptop researching with

Yes, I've gone all self sufficient.  Not totally, just slightly. I've dug over part of the veg patch, but then had to sit down as I came over all faint. Peewee had been helping, but he was digging in all of the wrong places. However he did unearth some treasures...beetroots and parsnips from last year!  They were so tiny and deformed that I realised that chucking them all in without thought of spacing was probably a bad move. Ah well, we learn by our mistakes. Peewee is rather keen on gardening. I know this as he has taken a liking to my gardening books. They are in tatters now because he's darn well chewed the lot! So now I'm busy looking through the seed catalogues and I remembered when my Ma used to do the same thing.  She would sit and plan her garden, much like I'm doing now.  She'd allow me to pick the seeds I wanted and I would plant them in my very own patch.  They were never successful, because I never watered them.  She loved roses and the garden, a

I'm so excited!  Lovely Manana Mama has awarded Yuckymum (me!!), the Liebster Blog award...my very first!  So my acceptance speech goes thus.... I'd like to thank my friends and family who have supported me through this process; to the kids for giving up the chance to spend quality time with their moma; to BH who for allowing tins of baked beans to replace lavish feasts; and not forgetting those working behind the scenes.... blah, blah, blah! But now onto the more serious stuff, and the duty of "Paying it forward". The idea of the award is to spread the lurve and  to bring lesser known (or not) but great blogs to light therefore I am pleased to nominate the following favourite blogs of mine as recipients of this award:   A Very British Dude  Radical, verrrry naughty..and they make me laugh..... a lot. The blog is written by two very opinionated libertarians who push the boundaries of acceptable thought!!  I can't honestly see them accepting this award, a

Mama ...and more  . ... tagged me for this particular piece and I will do my best to oblige. I'm not too good at describing myself and hope that this will give you an insight into who I am.  I am.... an idiot, but more than that, I am a stupid idiot.   much more than I was at 20. Searching for my reason for being, brings me to where I am now. I am all I was brought up to be, and no longer afraid of making a mistake or admitting it. I am proud of who I am and fear has no place in my life.  The bravest thing I have ever done ….was to chase after two young men who had broken into my car and stolen the stereo...OK, maybe not brave but stupid, but I did get my stereo back! I feel prettiest..... when I have a brown paper bag over my head. I've always said that BH married me for my earning potential...he doesn't disagree.   Something that keeps me up at night.... is worrying I may have inadvertently offended someone. I say things without thinking...BECAUSE I THINK IT

I'm not perfect.  I wish I was. If I was I'd be like Sookie ( True Blood, anyone? ). I'd be pleasant, sweet and nice.  But I'm not.  Well, sometimes I am. Nice, I mean. People think I'm nice. People say I'm nice.  But deep, deep down I must be a bit mean because I sometime do and say things that no normal person would ever do...because it appeals to my dark sense of humour.  That's not to say I'm not normal. I so am.   I think my children have picked up on this trait and I think they could be developing it themselves. Oh dear. They're in for a rough ride. The other day as I was picking up the kids from school, Mimi and I were having a discussion about whether or not her "bestest friend" could come home that night to play.  They'd decided between themselves and that was pretty much that as far as she was concerned. We'd a million and one things to do, the least not being a pile of reports to write in the hope that I could keep my j