Hi, Saturday night and a house full of pesky kids. Twins' friend E is having a sleepover. She is quiet, clever (knows her eight times table already, and she's only seven), and doesn't like fizzy pop or chocolate - I have absolutely no idea what she has in common with my girls, but they all seem happy enough up there in their improvised tent on the bedroom floor. Son and I have just watched The Voice. He's a big fan of Samuel, but my money is on Ruth, especially with that rendition of 'Get Here'. Blub? I should say so!
The excitement for tomorrow is a cheerleading party. Both Twins were invited, but I have managed to persuade Twin 2 to bow out. I'm all for inclusivity, but I think that handstands and high kicks would be just a little too much for a girl with cerebral palsy to manage. She was upset, but perked up a bit when she realised that she would still get a party bag. It's a bit difficult at the moment because there have been a few incidences recently where she has to accept that her disability is an issue. We've had tears because I won't let her scooter into school (because she can't actually scooter yet, and because school is at the bottom of an enormous hill), and huffiness because I won't let her join a gymnastics club. I don't want to come across as Nemo's dad, but there are some things that it's just unsafe and impractical for her to do.
Right, I have to go and turn lights off now, will try to think of something cheery to tell you about next time! xxx

...hello, I'm back from the exciting trip to the tip, and in order not to tackle the next thing on the list (yes, the oven) I'm back with you. What else can I tell you about? Oh yes, it was the twins' birthday at the weekend. I booked a soft play place and I had visions of me sitting sipping a nice caramel latte whilst the party just sort of happened around me. But it all ended up being slightly manic. Oh well, the girls were very happy with it, although nobody was remotely interested in the cake, so I've given it to a neighbour for her kids - at the moment mine only seem to want to eat olives and oranges (strange children - they certainly don't get their eating habits from me).
I have to admit to feeling slightly dislocated and frazzled recently. I put it down to not having to fill up every spare second with coursework or kids and having odd amounts of spare time, during which I feel I ought to be doing something, but in fact don't have the va-va-voom for it. It all came to a head after a weekend during which, as well as the manic party, there were just enormous amounts of homework for the kids to do (I blame imminent sats) and then on Sunday night Twin 2 was up half the night with a nightmare, so then, by Monday I was so fed up and tired that I decided to just blooming well go back to bed. So I did. I ignored the breakfast dishes/washing and went straight up and hopped under the duvet and didn't wake up until gone eleven. I know it sounds dreadfully slovenly, but I think I'm a bit at the end of my tether with this whole single parenthood thing now - and I did feel so much better afterwards (in fact, I'm positively chirpy today).
Just realised that I have a whole hour to spare as they are all at choir today...would it be very wrong to go out for the quiet caramel latte that I didn't get to have at the weekend? xxx

Brazilian Wurzel

I've been writing lots of lists of things to do. What I've noticed is, however, that somethings get crossed off immediately, whilst others take weeks. Funny how booking the Brazilian blow dry was only on the list for a nano second, whilst cleaning the oven and taking stuff to the tip have been languishing un-crossed off for weeks now. Oh, yes, the Brazilian blow dry has nothing whatsoever to do with a Latin American shoving curlers in. Nor has it anything to do with shaving genitalia. It will, however, turn me into the flaxen haired goddess that I always have been...underneath every Worzel Gummidge there is a Timotei advert from the 1980s waiting to emerge and I shall be that Timotei woman. When Hubby arrives back from Afghanistan I shall flounce through a meadow of wildflowers in a floaty chiffon number and waft into his manly embrace. I shall also be twenty years younger and quite possibly Austrian. So now Hubby is not allowed to come back from Afghanistan before 31st May or he will be greeted by the disgruntled Wurzel that he left behind six months ago.
I have to go now and take some stuff to the tip. I'm not going to clean the oven today though, and you can't make me. I'll be back in touch later...x

Hi, how are you? I got a phone call from my husband last night. On a Wednesday, I know - it was so unexpected that I burst into tears. I didn't sob for long though, as the phone was soon wrested from me by children needing to say important things about missing teeth, lost watches, etc. Not sure why I'm feeling so emotional, but it must be something in the air because this morning both girls were in tears (Twin 1 because  of my unreasonable request that she get dressed before breakfast and Twin 2 because of my unreasonable request that she stop playing 'teachers' and brush her teeth). I can only apologise to them for being clearly the worst mother in the world. Not only are they not allowed a pink television in their room, they are also not allowed to have breakfast in their pyjamas and they have to brush their teeth on school mornings. Bad, bad mother.
Maybe they'll forgive me tomorrow morning because, hurrah, it's their birthday. They are seven (yes, this does make me feel old). I'm going to be spending this evening baking cupcakes and assembling scooters, so hopefully there won't be tears tomorrow...
Right, must go - still working my way through the backlog of washing from the broken washing machine furore. Take care x

I've developed a TV crush on the one who plays Henry the eighth

Hi, how are things? I've found myself with a bit of spare time, and I know that I should be cleaning the downstairs bathroom or sorting out the finances or doing something productive, but, you know, it's been a while, so I thought I'd write. Talking of it being a while, I went to circuits today for the first time in yonks (since that day when they decided to have a 'fun sports competition' and I ran away - literally). It's all so very painful and humiliating. But someone has to be bottom of the class and make everyone else feel good about themselves, so it might as well be me. The sad thing is that I'm also bottom of the class in yoga, too. Most people are good at either being bendy or fit, but I'm good at neither. Oh, well, better stick at it. The plan is to be nice and buff for the summer, but I have a feeling it might take a bit of work. It's not that I ate lots of Easter eggs, but I did have quite a lot to drink when my friend H was here at the weekend, when we reverted to our student lifestyle, spending the evening drinking, eating crisps and shouting at the telly until H started snoring on the sofa and I wobbled up to bed. The difference is that twenty years ago, when we last existed like that, neither of us had kids, so we could sleep in. Nowadays we have four between us, and although they are very good at sorting themselves out on a weekend, come eight o'clock there had better be toast and bacon or there will be the kind of consequences I don't really want to think about. I feel quite tired today, and the scary circuits haven't helped...
Right then, nearly time for exciting Horrible Histories. Tonight we are having a snack supper in front of Horrible Histories. I don't care if you think this is chavvy. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I've developed a TV crush on the one who plays Henry the eighth, honest! xxx

I have just discovered that when my husband gets back from Afghanistan, he is planning on a sailing trip to the Arctic. Did I discover this via a diplomatically voiced telephone conversation, or in a carefully worded letter accompanied by a big box of chocolates for his loving and understanding wife? No, I did not. I discovered it via a Facebook conversation with a yachtie friend of his.
 He has yet to mention the trip to me.
I wonder how long it will take for me to officially be told? I'll let you know...

ps. Does this cancel out him finding out about the two grands worth of damage on the car via my blog when he was in Iraq?

Easter

Hello! How was your Easter? I'm going to try to write something but I admit to being a bit zombied out after my very long trip back from Devon (although also a bit high on heady mix of Red Bull, double-shot lattes and Green & Black's Easter egg). We set off late morning but as the car tyre had been flat my dad directed us to ATS in Totnes to get it looked at before hitting the M5. Turns out that ATS closed down four years ago, but we found somewhere else, luckily. The nice man removed a nail and bunged in some glue and then we were off, by which time it was almost lunch time so we had to stop for a Burger King somewhere in Somerset...by which time the traffic jams had started, so it was already five by the time we got to the M42 so we had to stop again for some sandwiches and caffeine...and by the time we got home it was pretty much bed time. Why does Devon have to be so far away?
Anyway, the Easter weekend was a success. We managed to see some lovely friends from Nepal on Good Friday here in Nottingham. It was fantastic to see them, although it did confirm my suspicion that I am the  hostess with the leastess, because they did end up eating Tesco ready meals that they bought themselves...(oh, was it my fault that they didn't want fish and chips and I didn't have any other food in the house?). The following morning we had breakfast with them at their hotel (I can't think why they decided against sleeping over at my house...) and then we went our separate ways. The Twins didn't manage all their breakfast, so I saved it for Dog to have in the car, but he only ate the sausage and left the bacon, which he sat on for most of the journey...so when we arrived in Devon I gave it to my mother for her own two dogs. For supper that first night we had paella. After we finished it and dutifully said how tasty it was, my mum said that the little bit of bacon had been a nice addition, hadn't it. I said what bacon? And she said, the bacon you gave me. I said, you mean the bacon that was breakfast leftovers that the dog had licked and then been sitting in for five hours in the car?
The next day Twin 1 had diarrhoea. My mum maintains that there is no connection whatsoever between her cooking and her granddaughter's stomach upset, but I beg to differ.
Other than that, it was a pretty good weekend. We went to the beach, we saw the cousins and I managed not to have a row about politics with my dad - well, almost...
Hope you had a good one too.
Take care xxxx