I Am My Mother Afterall...

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, I am my mother after all.
The final realisation hit me as I bit down into my Ryvita and light cheese spread that I can deny it no more. I am my mother.
I have become a 1978 housewife.
I ride to school on my bike with a basket on the front. Just like my Mum.
I eat two Ryvita's for lunch whilst watching Australian soaps. Just like my Mum. Only she watched The Sullivans and Sons and Daughters. I watch Neighbours and Home & Away.
I help out at my children's school listening to reading. Just like my Mum.
I tell my children to hover over public toilets. Just like my Mum.
I wipe chocolate off their faces with my own spit. Just like my Mum.
I go to coffee mornings whilst the kids are at school. Just like my Mum.
I buy all my school uniform from M&S because, 'it washes well.' Just like my Mum.
I don't like going out on Saturday nights anymore. I used to chastise my Mum for this for having no life when I was a teenager. Now I am to be found with a cup of tea (not even alcohol) on the sofa watching Strictly on a Saturday night. Just like my Mum.

God help my husband...

Words Can Hurt

Today is the start of anti-bullying week. With the slogan ‘Stop and think – words can hurt’ this year’s campaign is focused on tackling verbal bullying. Young people at the ABA Youth Summit 2010 raised concerns about the negative use of language in schools and the wider community – expressions like ‘you’re so gay’ and words like ‘sket’ and ‘slag’. They saw this as a key indicator of bullying or a hostile environment.
My 7 year old said in the car yesterday: Everyone at school says Justin Beiber is G-U-Y.
Me: A guy?
Her: No, I mean G-A-Y
Me: Do you know what gay means?
Her: No
Me: You know how mummy and daddy love each other and we are a boy and a girl, well, sometimes girls love each other and boys love each other and that's called being gay. Justin Beiber isn't gay, he has a girlfriend.
Her: Selena Gomez
Me: Yes, they are using it in a derogatory way about him when it shouldn't be seen as an insult.
Her: How many sleeps 'til Christmas?
She'd switched off, after losing interest, when she didn't think a girl loving a girl or a boy loving a boy was that big a deal.
But it shows, how even at a young age, children are learning that words such as gay are an insult. Who do they hear it from? Older siblings? Parents? Who knows, but it's just beginning in Year 3 (aged 7-8). Depressing or what...?

Perfect Weekend Escape

*this is a review of a place I stayed where I payed in full. It's not a freebie. I've have written about it because I really liked it. Ditto with any websites mentioned.




My husband likes surprises. I don't. They say opposites attract, which is good news for us.
For his birthday this year I decided to surprise him with a night away. I organised for my dad and step mum to come and look after the kids for a night, and then began the hunt for the perfect retreat.
I was thinking cosy log fires, lovely food, in the countryside somewhere so we could go for long walks, big beds, even bigger tubs.
I thought I'd found it. The Pig in the New Forest. Only just over an hour away from us, ponies strolling outside the door. I booked through Late Rooms, to save myself a couple of quid. Big mistake. When I called to book a meal a deux for the night we were there - the chef comes from The Ivy in London - they had no record of my booking. A frantic call to Late Rooms and I find out we are in fact double booked. So, the reservations lady at The Pig sent me a mail of all other rooms available in the area (some of them priced at £495 per night). None of them were right.
I headed to Mr & Mrs Smiths website, where I always go to find lovely hotels. They have beautiful hotels to suit most budgets. I ended up booking The Wheatsheaf Inn at Northleach, Cotswolds. It couldn't have been more perfect. Luxurious rooms at reasonable prices (£100 per night including continental brekkie), the food menu appealed, and again wasn't outrageously expensive. It didn't disappoint. We thought the service was outstanding. The way the staff spoke to each other and their guests was with the utmost respect. They couldn't do enough for us. They were friendly, and made our stay even more special. The husband loved it, and I certainly notched up a few brownie points due to the ales on tap and tasty steak he ordered for his dinner. I would highly recommend it for a night away with the other half. It has the cosy fires, massive comfy beds with Egyptian cotton bed sheets, large tubs to soak in with gorgeous products, fancy TVs (with Sky Sports) in your room, Hunter wellies to borrow and yummy food all in a beautiful Cotswold village. We loved!

Family Planning

When I was trying for a baby, I never even thought about planning for what month they should be born. It's not 'til after they're here in this bad old world that you realise that perhaps you should have thought ahead. For example, a feature this week claimed August babies are more likely to be binge drinkers, fail their exams and be bullied. I am happy to report, to parents of August babies that my nephew, who was born in the dreaded month, is studying in 6th form and is none of the above. My mum also, absolutely fine and an August baby. Actually, maybe fine is not the right word to describe my mother...anyway, I digress. My second baby was born in November, four days after my husband's birthday, two days after Halloween, and 3 days before Bonfire Night.
I should have planned it better.
THIS WEEK HAS BEEN HELLISH!!
I took the husband away for his birthday for a night to a lovely hotel (The Wheatsheaf Inn, Northleach, Cotswolds if anyone is interested - it's lush). So for a night I had to pretend to be a fun loving wife who was up for (more than) a laugh. When all I wanted to do was climb into the king sized bed and hide under the covers until spring. I am so tired. These dark nights don't help, do they?
We got back from night away on Halloween, so then it was pumpkins to decorate, lanterns to light, big spider to stick in the window, outfits on, trick or treating, hair wash, back to school.
Up early and back to doing two packed lunches, shoes, uniform, book bags. Yada, Yada.
I had one day before little girl's birthday to get a number 5 balloon, wrap the presents, bake 30 star shaped biscuits and tie in individual bags to hand out at school (WHO STARTED THIS RIDICULOUS THING OF HANDING TREATS OUT ON BIRTHDAYS AT SCHOOL? WHOEVER IT WAS, YOU ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY SAD FACE). Husband built the birthday bike whilst I was babysitting for a neighbour. Then it was up early doors for the excitement of present opening.
That was met with, 'Is that it?' once her presents were opened.
Spoilt and Madam were the words that initially sprung to mind. Perhaps it's the 5 year olds don't have the social graces to realise they should hide their disappointment at lack of presents. I manage most years on my birthday, however in a few weeks, I may say exactly the same thing after opening mine. 'Is that it?' and see how the husband and children respond.
Then, the husband had his tooth out on little girls birthday. Why would you? Meant the birthday tea I had planned went to the dogs (quite literally). I was so glad I rushed around to buy ingredients for Fajitas. Not.
I had one day to shop for the actual official party. You know what it's like. Cocktail sausages x100, cucumber sticks, children's entertainer, paper plates, pick up the hall key...blah de blah de blah.
I have 24 hours to go before the week long party extravaganza is over.
Next time I have a baby, I'm going to have it in August.
It'll be far too busy binge drinking to notice it's their birthday and anyway, all their mates will be on holiday.