Songs to Live your Life by

I was fortunate to be tagged by the lovely Jo for this Meme and it really had me a little stumped until I had a couple of hours alone in my car with my ipod on shuffle.

now these aren't necessarily the songs that mean the most to me - songs can be so emotive.

No, these are songs with a message I love for what they say.

Firstly I was raised in a house surrounded by music and Neil was a favourite, and not just because my first ever valentine's rose came with the message "I'll always bring you flowers"



Next up, well it's an oldie brought to me by me, that does actually have a lot of memories attached.




Because you 'can't catch love with a net or a gun' (something I need to remember next time I want to hold onto a man so tight my knuckles turn white), a bit of James.



And don't we all want to be someone others feel like this about. Groove Armada - My Friend. Luckily I have many of these.




Finally as the mother of a daughter I also have to have Beautiful, twee but hey.




I wanted to add Three Little Birds; a bit of Madonna and so many more that Jo already stole!....


I'm going to tag a Non-mummy blogger because I am intrigued.

Go Gray

Ah fatty bum bum

This evening little girl was discussing the fact that poo and wee come from her bottom (high brow stuff I know).

I pointed out that wee comes from the front and poo from her back bottom ( too much toilet for you? well, I'm sorry)

'no mummy I don't have TWO bottoms!'

'I'm not a bottom-bottom'

Well, it made me laugh.

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The clouds gathered though

So camping was fab except....

My eye swelling up to elephant man proportions

Little Girl and her easily wound up epic dramas

My tonsils swelling to the point where at 2am I would happily have had a headectomy

The moments when 2 little girls decide that they won't share and can't agree on playing

Or the time when Little Girl's Daddy and I fell out about parenting.

But, you what?

I still love camping.


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Sunny Camping

Last weekend we went camping in our Campervan. (sung as if Peppa Pig)

I love camping. Well, I love camping now we have Clementine.




We went with our usual camping crew and this time Little Girl's daddy came too. This time I not only booked the site (Ashurst) but also picked our pitch; a daunting task for a camping novice to carry out on behalf of her camping Gurus.

We did good though: a pitch with the mahoosive campsite behind us and the wood unspoilt in front of us.

What's not love when these are the smiles once the tent was up?


Or this is the view from by your bed in the morning?




Or these are the games the girls can play, naming logs as Pirate ships and Dragons,




And the ponies approve of your car.




Oh and the nearby pub provides an opportunity to watch little girl and her daddy enjoy each other.




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A roll in the hay it's not.

It's August people.

It's midday.

And I am in bed in pjs and fluffy socks.

The doctor thinks I'm run down, basing this on the fact that I have tonsillitis, an eye infection and inflamed sinuses (or something like that - I'd stopped listening by then).

With three 'ituses I'm not in bed alone.

It's not, however, the most fun I have ever had in the sack.

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Getting down with the Angels

On Sunday I discovered that there is an Archangel of Housekeeping! Well, ok that isn't exactly Sariel's purpose but it's within her remit. So, in an attempt to make my kitchen cleaning a little more magical I asked for her help.

OMG, it worked. I am rubbish at housework, I lose interest easily, especially when poorly like I was on Sunday. But, this Sunday I persevered.

I even moved a radio that had been in situ for years.

The joy of this came this morning when Little Girl and I took time to boogie in the kitchen to the sounds of radio 2 this morning.

There were no:

Come-on-we-are-in-a-hurrys

Or

Look-I-have-a-train-to-catches

We had a blissful morning, finding time for scrambled egg and salmon before we left.

And I managed to catch an earlier train than I had been lately.

I tell you I'll be getting down with the angels more often.




Ok, so maybe you think this all a little we-woo but hey wouldn't it make the world a little more magical if you just believed for a minute?

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Silent Sunday

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It's a truth universally acknowledged

That finding a roof in your bed does not help the guilt and self-loathing that accompanies a hangover.




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She's leaving home

This evening Little girl told me she was going to live at Bob's.

Who's Bob? Her father.

What crime had I committed to drive my daughter away?

I wouldn't let her whale go into the tunnel.

Mean mummy! I hear you say....



We were in the bath.

The tunnel was...

well I'll leave that to your imagination


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She's not wrong you know

'Mummy, if we chop our heads off we won't be able to talk.

If we chop our legs off we won't be able to walk

That's not funny is it Mummy.'

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Ok, Camp Bestival

This time last week I was pulled over on the M3 stripping a child of vomit covered clothes for the second time in one weekend. No, I hadn't packed the seabands as little girl has never vomitted in Clementine before.

Anyway, back to Camp Bestival, the place we were on our way home from...


As I pulled little girl up the hill, under a tree and towards the Kids Garden I knew I was in a happy place. My cheeks started to ache as my smile grew.


















Little whooped with joy as the bouncy castle came into view.

Even the queue for empty cash machines yielded smile worthy moments as little girl chatted to all and sundry, deciding every now and then to tell them that 'my mummy's name is Zoe'. Why did that make us smile? They were all men and it came out as if to be an introduction at a singles night. Shame we were at a family festival and undoubtedly all the men were taken!

A free bouncy castle and smiley happy people and we were all in heaven.










Especially when we returned to the Campervan field to see our peeps had arrived.






Saturday dawned rainy and and damp. But who cares, it's a rule that on any camping trip there must be a schlep to the loo with pjs tucked in your wellies and a rain coat on top.

It felt bigger and busier. Less friendly as parents fought to provide their children with the best view of the stage, amazing the lengths peeps will go to to see the Gruffalo. Luckily we retreated and had a far more civilised if much more distant view of Mr Tumble, who I am sure had a better welcome than Elvis ever did.





















The Persil area was heaven. Peace, tranquility, tea and amusements. So glad their sponsorship drew me in. A quick digression for the sponsorship piece....

DJ and mum-of-four Jo Whiley hosts the first ‘Persil Pass on the Love Picnic’ at Camp Bestival this weekend. Mums and kids were encouraged to hold a picnic and bring newly washed soft toys for another child to love - for fun family picnic ideas and more visit www.netmums.com/persilpassonthelove


Right, later while I was interviewing Jo Whiley, oh yes I got to hob knob briefly, my child was throwing a tantrum about leaving the ballet tent. We went back the next day....













So, Jo Whiley Can I say how pleased I was to see her looking a little fatigued. The only other thing I think we have in common is that her little girl is just as attached to the bunny we were sent as little girl is, although Jo's daughter hasn't tried to name hers poo-pants.

Anyway, she endured my shambolic interview and the interruption by a smudged teary tiger faced child. What did I ask and what did I learn?

Me: what is the best piece of festival advice you have ever been given?
Jo: Not to worry about what is happening elsewhere; if you are having a good time don't worry about missing Pulp on the other stage.

Me: have you ever duplicated one of your children's favourite toys?
Jo: nope. But my 19 year old has a favourite and cried the other day when it had to be washed and no longer smelled the same. I even sprayed it with my perfume, her dad's aftershave to try and recapture the scent before she returned to college.

I also learnt that while there may be no toys duplicated, precious band t shirts are. Like the Manics one that is about to be worn by her youngest, and hopefully will survive another child's worth of washing.

Interview completed the rest if the weekend was calmer, especially after I found little's coat I had lost; a stressful thing when it looks like your weekend may be littered with rain!

The weekend then flowed with many helterskelter trips, each one leaving me thankful that my bum hadn't got stuck at any point. The two little girls did well on the swings, co operating beautifully.













Co operation wasn't a constant theme; where as squabbling was fairly common.

My favourite moments were those we we spread a blanket in the sun and allowed the girls to play and the wine to flow rather than missioning about.

























The weekend would not have worked without the lovely Sue who guarded bags and blankets and provided extra hands for child care; extra imagination for games and an extra target for bubbling.












So, a bit like Jo's advice i'd say: go; find a spot with a view and a bar; and plan mini expeditions from there. Perhaps then you can survive crowds with minimal stress.

Oh and always wear flowers in your hair.













Ps. I actually quite like the smell of the purple Persil with comfort and have duly washed George ( otherwise known as poo-pants) in it.


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Yay for Camp Bestival

I spent all day yesterday writing this post in my head and now have my iPad in front of me my mind is blank.

I'll be back


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Don't tell Germaine

I have never been one to worry about political correctness, I never felt the need to compete in a 'mans world' (funny as I am one of the few girls in my field), I am happy that I am able to carry my own bag or open doors so I can enjoy these things being done for me.

But, I am aware of need for positive role models for girls. Personally I think not presenting it as an issue means it shouldn't ever be one.

As the person my daughter most wants to dress like I know fat isn't an issue. I have never actually heard her refer to anyone as fat.

All this wonderful work seems to be going nowhere. (I say work but it wasn't really a conscious decision.)

Recently little girl has got into the habit of reading magazines on the loo (I have a Loo Read magazine rack in the bathroom). Normally, the reading material consists of Living Magazine and we laugh at the funny chairs. This week, drawn by a free lip gloss, we had Marie Claire.

The cover had the beautiful Audrey Tatou







who little girl said looked like a witch!

The back shows Kate Moss looking slightly slutty.






And it is Kate Moss she decides is beautiful!

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Sea bands (sung to the tune of 'Feelings')

To say little girl suffers from travel sickness is a tad of an understatement.  There have been many a trip to the Island that has ended with me ringing Grandma and asking her to come out with a towel to wrap a vomit soaked child in.  I think the most spectacular one was on the ferry where she managed to cover me in vomit too – nice.
 
Imagine my deep joy when we were sent some Seabands to review. I have tried everything else: not feeding her before a trip; lifting the headrest on the seat in front so she has a clearer view out of the windscreen, and trying to improve my driving.  All of this has had some success, but I welcomed the ‘magic bracelets’ as we called them.
 
They came in various colours and the pink was chosen for first review.  And I must admit the trip they were worn, the one where little girl didn’t sleep, she wasn’t sick.  
 
She did complain of feeling poorly but to be honest I think what she meant was she was bored as she kept asking if we could either ‘stop the car and get out now mummy’ or ‘are we at the ferry boat yet, mummy’.
 
I’d count that as a success but we shall see.  I think one of the issues is making sure you have them on her correctly.  On the adult bands it says make them two finger widths away from the wrist, what is that on a child? Two of her fingers? One of mine?
 
We will use them again and again in the hope that either the psychological or, if I position them right, the physical will keep us vomit free, because as we say in our house it’s all a bit ‘yucky-da’ otherwise.
 
 

Alls well that ends well

You know when you have one of those days that had no right to turn out well but it does?

Well, I have just had one of those.

Today was far too full, far too busy, yet actually left me feeling far more positive than I deserve.

It started at 7 when a young girl with red hair arrived to take my child to nursery but didn't take the keys so the pm pick up couldn't get back in.

I drove 90minutes away to attend a training course. Returned home to a not bathed and ready for bed child because they had to shelter at a friends house because without keys they couldn't get in.

I had a glampervan pick up at 7pm that I had forgotten about and had to duck out of my course to do the insurance.

My child played in the puddles in just her crocs, well she had clothes but her feet were clad only in crocs, you know what I mean!

I got little girl to bed at 7:30 to have three of my favourite people arrive 15 minutes later for supper.

Hey ho, in a funny way I'm sad today is over.


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Just because I don't iron her pjs, it doesn't mean I don't love her

Last night I found myself basking in the glory of being a good mum.

What fantastic piece of parenting had me awarding myself this accolade?

Little girl and I took a bath together both equally saturated in anti-nit shampoo.

Surely sharing a nit comb has to be the ultimate expression of motherly love?


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The best repellant

The bio on my blog says I'm a 'love f*ckwit' and never has that been more the case than right now.

To be honest I'm getting kind of bored with the drama I seem to create for myself. I have only just realised how lonely I am.

I spun a good line about how great my life is; how I don't know how I would make room for someone else; I'm so busy changing careers I don't have time; I have a three year old no love left over for anyone else...

I wore this story very well, the armour fended off suitors a little too well. By time I realised I didn't want to wear the armour and that perhaps my stories weren't entirely true, it was too late.

Ho hum, at least I know now. I know that as happy as I can be alone it doesn't have to be at the expense of being with someone and maybe even being a family.


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At last a family resemblance

And I don't just mean the t-shirts






Thanks Nick, for proving she is my daughter!


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My baby's got blue...

EVERYTHING

The last two Sundays little girl has done her very best to become a water baby. But, with the English summer not quite fulfilling its role on both occasions I have had to remove a shivering-teeth-chattering-‘I’m not cold mummy’-protesting little girl from the water or waters edge.

Last week it was the sea and building swimming pools with her Uncle Ross (who is, it has to be said, a digging dervish); a pastime that she gave up and went to building beds – complete with a blanket with Auntie Amanda – a much warmer pursuit.













A day so pleasantly exhausting little girl pretty much passed out before I had done up the straps on her car seat.

But, and this is a celebratory ‘Woo-hoo but’, there were moments, long moments when little girl was happy to play alone while I finished chatting with my Aunt. I can see a time when I will sit serenely on a blanket reading a book while my daughter plays beautifully beside me! (Well, maybe for a ten minute period at least)

This Sunday I was probably the only mum on the world filling up a paddling pool from the kettle and the hot tap.








But when you see how much was had with her friend, running from the pool to the trampoline to warm up, it was well worth it






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Remains of the day

Tonight little girl has gone to bed with flowers painted on her face and minnie mouse balloon floating above her head.

I think she enjoyed going to the fair with daddy.




If she's anything like her mother this won't be the last time she goes to bed without removing her make up.


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