It had to be you

It is with a heavy and anxious heart that I write this post.

It may be hard for you to believe but that beautiful little girl of mine, the little girl who, quite literally, is my someone to bless me whenever I sneeze; the little girl who will sing herself to sleep and to school; the little girl who says 'lovu' down the telephone and always says 'alllright mummy' whenever I drop something (which is often) is ....

in danger of becoming a brat.

There I said it.

At nursery she has taken to smacking children who come near. Well that may be an exasperation, but her jealousy seems to know no bounds.

Now I know that jealousy stems from insecurity, but what I don't know is what to do about it?

Please don't get me wrong, she can be kind and there are days at nursery where she spends the day wiping noses and kissing upset children better.

But, these days are outnumbered by those where she is demanding, hardwork and out of control.

I love my daughter, PD loves his daughter, most people love her. But how long will that last?

Lady of letters

For the last few months Isobel has been learning her letters.

I was going to say that this has happened by accident, but I realise that when you buy your baby foam letters for her bath AND a wooden alphabet
puzzle, not to mention magnetic letters, that the must be some intent, even if just subconciously.

Anyway, you'd think I'd be proud of myself for teaching my daughter that 'G' is for giraffe, grandma and grandpa.

But no: even when isobel is happily pointing out 'M' for mummy, I chastise myself because I taught her the capitals not with lowercase.

Bloomin mother guilt strikes again!




-- Post From My iPhone

Packing my satchel

Yes, you read correctly: I am packing my satchel. I am very proud of my bright yellow satchel and now I am going to school!

Yay for me!

It's only a two day train the trainer course, but hopefully it's a new begining. With doubt over my current contract it was a fabulous excuse for reinvention.

Let's face it is a break from norm and requires a step out of my bubble, but the only thing I seem to be anxious about is arriving on time and a taxi will fix that.

I am genuinely excited; I have planned my outfit and everything.

But, slightly gutted I didn't use this to buy stationery. Thankfully PD and Little girl but me new notebook at Christmas and now I can use it. That and my muji highlighted pencils mean I am sorted.

I am that easily pleased. I just hope I don't make a mess of the first page.







-- Post From My iPhone

This was meant to be a picture of little girl rocking the whole socks and sandals look, but we nearly missed the shoes.




-- Post From My iPhone

One of the reasons I haven't blogged much

I've been busy exercising my inner old lady.




-- Post From My iPhone

The nearly naked chef

-- Post From My iPhone

The great White

So spring is busy springing and summer is yet to come, but the end of the day a girl likes to take off her opaques.

So my legs have never been my best feature, and they are extremely pale not hairy but just a great white expanse, I certainly wasn't prepared for little girl's reaction:

'tights mummy. Pleeeeease mummy tights please'.


-- Post From My iPhone

Friday fings

These are things I have found myself uttering lately:

'You know you have been too long on the loo when your daughter comes and lays out a picnic.'

'yes, I know I have been having chest pains but do I honestly look like I'm having a heart attack. Ok, don't answer that.'

'I think what bothers me most, is that it bothers me'







-- Post From My iPhone

Outdoor games

In our house we don't seem to discriminate between indoor and outdoor games.

While I was busy trying to channel Charlie Dimmock, (yes I did try bra-less but it made moving between gardening and the trampoline somewhat eye-threatening,) Isobel was busy making money.











- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Life and times of a blog post

Of late I have found that shine of blogging has somewhat died.

It isn't because of the hoo-ha over reviewing vs not reviewing etc of blogging war that took place last year; and it isn't because of the growth in numbers of lovely blogs out there now that I often feel I can't keep up with all; it's not because I don't like the competition or the pressure of maintaining a spot on the top 100 (something I am sure I have failed to do this month).

Or maybe it is.

I can't read blogs at work over my lunch like I used to and sad though it may seem my evenings have become somewhat 'crafty' of late. I just seem to be completely unable to keep up with crowd.

It's not that I don't think about posts, that's so not true. I write a million posts in my head but never seem to get round to putting it on paper - well virtual paper, you know what I mean.

For example on Tuesday I thought about writing a post about how we had come back from the Isle of Wight where we surrounded by lovely family and friends, and felt a little flat and a lotta lonely. Isobel had loved seeing Grandma and Grandpa and terrorising Jack the dog, but most of all she had loved seeing her cousins and they had loved seeing her. They played brilliantly, I have never heard so much joyous screaming in my life, it's just as well Mummy's house is detached or I am sure the police would have been called.

So on Tuesday it would have been a sad, lonely, woe-is-me single mum pity post.

But the Wednesday came and the post had kind of morphed into a 'cant-always-get-what-you-want-but-try-sometime-and-you-get-what-you-need' post. I'd commuted to work with lovely train pals and one of my newest bestest friends and had a good old chin-wag. The beautiful bells of St Pauls heralded my arrival at the office; the man in the coffee shop wrote me a lovely note on my fruit toast bag; and I was greeted in the office with 'hello pretty lady'.

What more could a girl need?

I have a lovely life.

I even had a man around who gave a great quote for relieving some of my claustrophobia - by knocking down a wall sillies - what did you think I meant?

I had texts and invitations - oh my I have a LIFE, well at least the potential of one if I could just find a babysitter, so all was good.

When I rewrote the post in my head on Friday, a third of the staff had been fired in the office, I'm a contractor I could be next...

You get the idea.

If I don't write the post it goes around and around in my head, it grows it shrinks and meanwhile my life moves on.

And I just don't manage to blog it.

What is the point of this? I have no idea, but hey it's a post.

(Oh and yes, despite my blogging angst I will be at Cyber Mummy)

This morning...

Two little girlies walked hand in hand to nursery.

One had skipped to catch up with the other.

As their bunches swung, the discussed how cold it was:

'obel hand cold' was greeted with 'hmm cold'

Two two year old little old ladies.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Thankful-for-all-the-birthday-gifts Thursday

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Definately in the jeans

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

It's in the jeans

I have just made a disturbing discovery: my daughter has more pairs of jeans than I do!

Maybe her need is greater but there is surely a principle here.

I mean, maybe I do manage to go more than half a day before I get a wet bum from a damp slide; roll in the mud; or get yellow paint on my knees while doing hand prints; and I do manage to wash my hands slightly less thoroughly, meaning I don't get wet to my toes doing so.

But, surely as the head of this households my jeans should dominate?







- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone