I am a tortoise

It can be the only sensible conclusion. I was a tortoise in a former life or something. The struggle with this bloomin' hour of the clocks going back, I have never felt so tired (except in pregnancy) the winter approaching, the dark nights, the cold. I wish I could climb into a box and be covered in some nice soft hay and everyone get me out again when the leaves are green, the sun is shining and America has a new president.
Alternatively, am I too young to spend winter in Benidorm?

The Mother Is Coming...

...so the hard work begins:
children hair to be washed
mummy hair to be washed and dried down (she doesn't like me wearing it in a ponytail - makes me look 'drawn')
beds, all to be changed and sheets to be ironed
blinds to be dusted
cakes to be made
loos to be scrubbed
shopping to be got (from Marks and Spencer, she won't eat anything else)
carpets to be hoovered
cobwebs to be got rid of
floors to be bleached
children to float on air until she comes
husband to be moody
children to be over excited as they will receive presents
Mummy to be excited as she takes children off my hands for the whole time she is here
Best clothes to be worn by all
Dinner to be booked as she is going to babysit (hoooray! First meal out with husband since 1902 or thereabouts)
False smiles to be worn whilst stepdad talks about politics
Lots of eating to be done to avoid 'you are looking too thin' comments.

Hope she doesn't open any wardrobe doors whilst we are out, or the truth about my slovenly habits will be revealed and that image she has of me as 'managing so well', 'always have such a tidy house' will be well and truly shattered. Why do I feel like I can't be myself, warts and all in front of my own mother??

NB - not that I have any kind of wart...don't want you all imagining I am riddled...

Love Letter Straight From My Heart...

Dear Blog,
I feel I have neglected you somewhat. I apologise. At the moment you must feel very much like that cobweb in the corner of my kitchen ceiling, looked at occasionally, with the thought 'I must attend to that', but left well alone for another day.
But fear not, I am back now.
I will explain why I needed some space for a while. I don't want you to get upset, or feel that you came second best. I wouldn't even describe it as a trial separation...
After having some negotiations with my old work, I have decided that now is not the time to neglect you and go off with this shinier work proposition. It may actually pay me, unlike yourself, but the writing I do there will be nothing in comparison to you. Also, that work is a bit fickle, a bit Colin Farrell, looks OK from the outside, but not willing to commit long term, and a bit of a nightmare once you get involved. It will only end in hurt.
So, I promise I won't neglect you for as long as I did last week.
Unless I go on holiday of course. Or maybe if I win the Euro millions. But I have more chance of marrying George Clooney, so don't you worry your pretty little self about that.
I promise I will continue to share all thoughts on McDreamy, buns, over growing eyebrows and annoying husband with you and other such, ahem, life changing and important things.
Now I have to go again. I have a lot of catching up to do, comments to make on other peoples blogs, and thinking of what to write next.
Always yours,
A Confused....

Perfect Housewife?

It's been a busy week. I haven't even had time to blog or read other peoples blogs. And boy, have I missed you lot. But, I seem to have got myself a little old life all of a sudden.
This week I have had a flurry of social activities. I normally get a bit nauseous if I have more than two things planned a week. I like my freedom, I like spending time on my own with my children, I find talking with other mums constantly about the children and what they are eating/how they are sleeping/how often they are pooing etc great for one or two hours a week, but beyond that I begin to glaze over.
This week however, has been a strange one for me... I have felt like a proper housewife. Something I have possibly been trying to resist for some time.
Monday - Went to playgroup but my usual friend wasn't there, so I spent some lovely quality time making a teddy bear with my daughter, squishing playdoh and helping hand out the squash to the children instead of my usual standing with friend at tea counter, gossiping and moaning about how annoying our husbands have been over the weekend.
Tuesday - Tea and scones with mums from school so we could get to know each other in a gorgeous house. It was Emma Bridgewater mugs, giant tea pots of earl grey, home made scones and star biscuits, labelled baskets for toys (food, music, lego, pens, dolls, balls, etc etc.). It was amazing. I wanted this mum to come over to mine and organise my life. She had lived in the US for four years. It showed. She hosted the event so well considering not one person in the room knew each other. The new school mums were also really lovely and friendly. It was fab!
Wednesday - Soft play area with gossipy friend and her poorly girl, straight up to school, pick up big girl and take her for lunch at her new boy friends house. I had never met the mum before. Was dreading having to make small talk yet again for several hours. But she was great. We had a lovely few hours, except for being told by big girls new friend that baby girl had done a stinker of a poo in his bedroom. But what's a bit of poo between friends? In the evening met gossipy friend and went to see Mama Mia. What a daft movie. I loved it! I want to be Meryl Streep. Although not when she kisses Pierce Brosnan. Yuk.
Thursday - Beautiful sunshine, food shop, park and then dinner out with my two neighbours who have a combined age of the 95. Leave husband his favourite dinner after having made children their favourite dinner.
Friday - Walk to and from school, then walk to park, then walk to shops, then cook dinner. Get email from old work asking what my phone number is, as big boss wants to speak to me. Could this be about a job? Tummy flips. Collapse in bed, exhausted at 10pm instead of writing a blog/reading all your blogs...bad blogger...
Saturday - Clean house from top to bottom. Practice making lovely buns for Harvest Festival next week whilst baby girl sleeps. Take children out to local farm to pick strawberries, sweetcorn and apples in beautiful sunshine whilst husband plays football.
Sunday - So far, I have tossed some home made pancakes with handpicked strawberries for breakfast. My god. I don't want to blow my own trumpet or anything, but I'm feeling like I am the perfect housewife...
So just when I seem to have it covered, have finally started to give in, can make buns, cook a boingy cottage pie, chewy lasagne, fresh pancakes with handpicked fruit, I could be getting the call up from work.
So, what now?

Since You've Been Gone...

Dear McDreamy,
Thursday nights are just not the same without you. I know you're kinda busy in the US with your new season of Grey's and even people in the UK with Sky get to drool over you on Living, but for little old me with my wind up TV, I have to wait a whole year before I see you again. And to be honest, since you've gone and deserted me McDreamy, I have noticed that things have gone a bit downhill around here. Life just doesn't seem the same without your smouldering looks. The weather has gone terribly cold and there are lots of grey clouds, a bit like my moods since we no longer meet up on a Thursday. My daughter who often joined me when watching you has started waking up for two hours in the night every night. I think secretly she is pining for you too. There is an awful crisis in the global economy (do you think they are missing Grey's on Five too? and that's why they haven't been looking after our money?). My husband's soccer season has restarted so I have become a football widow again. They even put a football match on in Grey's slot on Channel Five last night - the cheek of it! My cooking has gone from mediocre to officially rubbish. My husband described my cottage pie last week as 'boingy'. You wouldn't ever call my cottage pie 'boingy' would you McDreamy?
Also, I can't find my two pairs of tweezers so I bought a new pair and now they have gone missing too. My eyebrows look like Freda Kahlo.
Would you still love me even if my 'brows remained unplucked for days on end? If you've been trying to contact me, you won't be able to get through because my mobile phone died on me. I phoned customer services to get a new one, spent an hour of my life doing it, they said they would send me an email with a reference number within 24 hours. Four days later, nothing. I haven't the energy or inclination to sit through another hour long phone call, so husband's old brick phone will have to do for now. So if you want to send a text, it should get through.
Anyway I should go, food to cook, toilets to clean etc. I just wondered, do you think if I write to Channel Five and ask them to put Grey's back on, my life will return to normal?
Yours,
a confused take that fan, 30 (something)