Unfinished Business

Good evening all who dare to join me! 

As you will of realised by now (maybe) I am the queen of the unfinished project. If I may expand. I've given up on the allotment. It may surprise you to know that growing, maintaining and even thinking about plants is hard bloody work, and I appear to have an allergy to said form of exertion. Basically, I couldn't be arsed.

I decided that 'The Good Life' just isn't for me, especially at the moment, what with kid's, work, pot washing and not giving a shit. But I've now had two "not good for me at the moment" moments and have therefore drawn the conclusion that it's clearly not for me.

Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of growing, tilling the land and all that shite, but when it comes to the crunch, I'm just not crunchy. I'm rather like a box of unwanted bran flakes, long opened and forgotten about. More soft and flaccid than crisp and crunchy as far as allotment work goes anyhow. I should just plan somebody else's allotment, I'd be awesome at that. Fantastic even, telling them what to do, researching what to put where, what not to put where and what to definitely wash your hands after touching, before going to the loo! That's it! I'm going to write a book on how to be an allotment owner without an allotment. Problem solved. I am winning!

Well, now we've gone over what I'm not good at, here's what I appear to be awesome at. EATING. Do I want to be talented at this? Hell no! But it appears to be one of my top 3 talents at least. as I can't stop shovelling crap into my mouth! If I could only dig potato trenches as well as I can dig into the biscuit tin, the allotment would be thriving. 

I've put half a stone on again this year because I stopped going to fat camp, so I need to start that up again or I'll end up growing chins, better than I ever grew cucumbers! So Slimming World it is, planning food and being aware of hand mouth coordination.

Well just a short and sweet entry about nothing in particular, as most of my type style dabblings appear to be. Good night, sleep tight and finger's crossed that I don't have an extra chin upon waking! Good God, I really must move that biscuit tin!

Happy New Year!

Whoops! Put 4 pounds on over the festive period 😱 and i'm not showing any signs of gaining control over my eating!! This must stop, weight goes on far too easily so tonight I'm going to write a menu and a shopping list and then I'm going to stick to the bugger! Celery for breakfast, lunch and dinner! I think not, but definitely need to cut out the crap!
In other news; I've got a new allotment! When we last got hold of one, my lad was just tiny and then it was too hard for me personally, to get digging between breast feeds. I'm fairly sure there are some wonder mum's out there who can strap on a papoose, grab a fork and dig up spuds to sell on their market stall whilst breast feeding on one boob and expressing the other. But alas, sad as it is, I cannot count myself among them.
To be honest, my gut feeling is telling me it's still too soon. Ideally, I would like to wait until little fella is at school, so then I could really put some time into it. As you can see from the picture, there is a lot of work to be done, and since we got it, someone has already been on trashed the gate and stolen chairs so I'm already a little disheartened by the ordeal. Fortunately they weren't my chairs, they were on the plot already, but not the point. Some people are turds! Putting it politely of course.
Anyway, moving on to my more positive feelings of allotment excitement, I've bought myself some tools yay! I've watched some you tube videos, and now counting myself among the professional joiners of the world (PAH!) I'm going to (attempt to) make a fence out of the pallets that we have up there. It's a dear old do starting up an allotment, so the best thing I can do is make the most of what's up there already, if it hasn't been pinched by the next time I go up there that is.
Well readers, wish me luck with my allotment endeavours, hopefully I will get somewhere with the raw wilderness that has been bestowed upon me.
Happy New Year!!!
Ps. If anyone has any advice at all on clearing a hideously overgrown allotment, please comment below, would love to hear anything helpful. Cheers!

The Festivities Are Still Flourishing

Forgot about party time at the mother-in-law's! An emergency nap time has been put into place for my son, not me. (unfortunately!) Got to admit, had a pretty stressful morning at work today, a couple of no-shows on top of too many holidays. But the cherry on the top was that I was placed on the mean, green machine of misery! So after all that palaver, I'm glad I'm going out for a few laughs and a bit of wine!🍷
Stepped onto the scales this morning and to my surprise, I have only gained two pounds, now that's a bloody miracle! The sheer volume of chocolate and biscuits I have consumed is nobody's business! Can't say I'm moaning, although I haven't let it put me off eating even more quantities of junk, so by the time I get to Slimming world on Wednesday, I'll probably have gained another two. At least! Never mind, diet starts (again) tomorrow.
Just short and sweet. As I mentioned previously, I'm very close to being late for the party so toodlepip, time for me to have a wet wipe wash and apply some new, Christmas eyeliner. Merry Christmas, happy new year and all that jazz!

Christmas Been And Gone

Yes, Christmas has been and gone. A few pound's lost from the bank account, another few pound's gained around the waistline. Hark! The herald angels have sang, and Santa very nearly almost, got stuck up the chimney! So ding dong merrily on high, I have to say I have enjoyed myself thoroughly! I'm sat here typing on my new tablet eating copious amounts of Thornton's chocolate, wishing I didn't have to go back to Slimming world next week. Because I know after this, my second full box of chocolate's in as many days, the scales will not be my friend! This is the price one must pay for a bout of festive gluttony.
Another major downside to eating massive amounts of anything is that my family appears to have turned into a mass collection of trumpet trouser's. Sprout's, cabbage, parsnips, carrot and swede, roast and mashed spuds, peas, turkey, stuffing, pigs in blankets and of course, a few Yorkshire puds. Goodness me, no wonder we were all stuffed after reading that list of ingredients, and is it indeed any wonder that our carol singing has been purely consistent of flatulance! At least we can blame the smell on the veg and my daughter's disgusting smelly scratch and sniff book! (I actually borked!)
None of us even got dressed on Christmas day, we were having far too much fun opening pressies, following ridiculous construction instructions, hunting down lost bones, (Buster the dog game's, not mine) and generally having a blast!
Just put the kids to bed and feeling extremely tired myself I will very shortly be following suit. I've had another lovely Christmas with my less than perfect but highly awesome family, and I'm hoping that the new year will see more of the same. I love my less than perfect but highly awesome life! (Most of the time anyway 😂)

Ho Ho Ho!

Hark the herald Angels are singing! Christmas is almost upon us people, it is very almost here! So here we are again, running around like headless chickens, seeing how many tubs of Quality Street and boxes of Paxo we can cram into our trolleys, like Armageddon is about to ensue.

Holy moly people! Take a breath! You will not die if you don't have a back up pack of prawns for a 'just in case' situation. Nobodies Christmas will be ruined if you only have five dessert choices. Blooming heck! And can someone please tell me why the Christmas period turns people into bad tempered arse-pots when it's supposed to be the season of joy and goodwill? 

Oh I do like a Christmas moan, only because I get so tickled watching some people, in supermarkets especially, mow down every Tom, Dick and Harry just to get at a pot of Elmlea! I mean please, it's Christmas, get the real bloody thing! At least I could see the point of a good mow-down if they were trying to reach the 'extra thick chocolate cream with a hit of Cointreau!' But Elmlea? Surely not! 

Not everyone is grumpy of course, I've been having a giggle and gossip about all manner of festive things that go on, work do's, Panto's, Grotto's, Carol Singing-O's, the whole kit and caboodle! I do love this time of year. 

I've just managed to get myself feeling properly festive. Got the tree up yesterday and the ceiling 'danglers' up today. The kids thoroughly enjoyed putting the baubles on the tree, and I adored watching their little faces as I turned the lights on. They got so giddy, dancing around to Christmas songs and nearly knocking the tree over, (4 'almost's' to date!) but it's all worth it. Fun and high spirits in the house of Burnett this season.

We've actually been a little bit crafty this year, making our own paper chains which we've hung around each fire place, and I've even threatened to send Christmas cards! (They've been written but not posted, I'm half way there at least.) Next on the crimbo agenda, finish wrapping, get a hot chocolate and go through the Total TV Guide to plan my Christmas viewing. Yes people, I am that sad. But I'm not sorry for it, I like doing it. 

Well, that was a nice short and sweet little post to get my blogging flow back to scratch, it's been a while, (again) so apologies to anyone who likes a read. I'll be back in a few days with some more Christmas merriment. Ho Ho Ho!

Just Thanking My Lucky Stars

Hello all! I've been reading a lot of blogs this week. I have come across so many lovely ones while scanning through my Twitter feed, and as I had a few spare minutes, (by avoiding washing the pots,) I sat with a brew and my phone and scanned away.

There were a lot this week with a similar vein running throughout them and the general feeling is that a lot of mothers out there, don't think very highly of themselves and are very lacking in self confidence. It is really sad seeing women in these down trodden attitudes when I'm sure the families and friends surrounding these lovely ladies think very highly of them indeed. My life story is far from perfect and I often have the very same fears and anxieties as the rest, which is obviously why a lot was ringing true with me, and why I chose these particular ones to read.

There are many mothers who seem to aspire to completely unattainable targets by looking at others who are far further on in their own personal journey, Mumpreneur's, blogging and  PR experts etc. We tend to look at the end product of these people and think to ourselves 'I could never do that' and 'why can't I have an amazing idea like that?' The thing is, I bet these people started out with a fair few ups and downs and a few less grey hairs! Great success doesn't come over night for the most part in any case, and I'm pretty sure a few mini or indeed epic failures, occur in the middle of each and every journey.

I read a quote earlier in the week which read

Don't compare your chapter 1 to somebody else's chapter 20.

and this is absolutely paramount to realise if we want to maintain even an ounce of sanity!

Fortunately I have a fairly lighthearted attitude towards life and I feel my ability to laugh  at myself has steered me clear of alcohol and happy pills. As I mentioned before, my fears are the same as most but I can laugh most of them off. We are who we are and we can either accept it and roll with the punches or curl up in a ball, call for a straight jacket and sob away in a dark corner of a padded sell. Personally I've tried both, but the aforementioned has better end results in the long term.

May I just say without even a smidgeon of self pity that like most of you, my life is far from perfect. I'm a mother of two which is hard work. Even though my kids are generally good and well behaved, parenthood is never without stress. I live in a small town, three story terraced house, filled with damp, clutter, loose laminate planks, frayed carpet and an undecorated bathroom which has been that way since I was pregnant with my first child. (6 years!!!) I have no money to put any of these imperfections right so I have come to terms with the fact I shall be living like this for a while. And to top it off I work as a cleaner from 6:00am until 9:00am so I can help provide for my family and still have the full day to look after my children, be for there for them at all times, without smothering and spoiling them of course. 

But, I have a great husband who fills my life with hilarity and has done for close to fourteen years, and I am happy. So I thank each and every one of my lucky stars daily and without fail because even though I'm not a fabulous Mumpreneur or Blogging superstar, and I'm still waiting for that all important lottery win, (should really start buying tickets!) I'm doing OK and I sincerely hope you all are too. Don't let your self esteem be kicked to the gutter because you don't feel the best at anything. The only thing we need to be is the very best version of ourselves possible and that's all we can do on our one time visit to this mortal coil.

Lots of love x

Mean, Green, Cleaning Machine.

You know when you just have one of those day's? Well this morning was ridiculous! The first incident was I was on the machine at work, it was a nightmare. Brief explanation of 'the machine.' It is a big green cleaning machine which lets out water onto rotating pads, cleaning the area. A rubber blade with a hose attached, scrapes the floor behind and sucks up the dirty water. That simple. We had a new one delivered this week and I was all excited about having a smooth run. Yeah right, too much to bloody ask obviously. Now what was I saying about simplicity? Here's what happened, cue bullet points if you please:

1. I had to move loads of crap out of the way to even move it to the trough. (to fill it with water.)
2. I put the wrong bar on and the water sucker hose wouldn't fit.
3. I put the right bar on and the hose wouldn't fit! I had to call upon a colleague with a penis (previous hose experience) to help put it on.
4. Went on the shop floor, forgot the blue roll to clean the bar.
5. Loads of giant pallets in the way, had to keep making intricate turns all over the place.
6. The bar fell off.
7. The bar kept getting little bits stuck to it leaving streaks all over the floor.
8. The bar fell off again.
9. The machine was letting out too much water.
10. The machine was not sucking up the water but instead, smearing puddles all over the floor causing hazards everywhere!
11. The bar started going down too far making the smearing worse.
12. Run out of time to finish job and had to come off the shop floor.
13. Couldn't get the hose off. 
14. The cleaning pads wouldn't come off the machine.
15. Left machine unclean for tomorrow.
16. Expecting a telling off in the morning.
17. Expecting to pop my top in the morning.

All that and it rained and made my fringe look like a moustache. One word for you people....NIGHTMARE!

Stupid Moustache Fringe!

I'm pretty much expecting more of the same tomorrow as my boss is never in the best of moods on a Monday, and she's going to walk into my list of the million things that went wrong. I just hope I end up still employed!

All that after I left my house in such high spirits this morning too! Well as they say, tomorrow is another day so fingers crossed that the boss is in a better mood than usual, at this moment in time that is all I can hope for. Fingers crossed for me folks! 

Another ridiculous day in the life of a cleaner, one good thing though, I came home and my husband had cleaned the kitchen for me so at least I didn't have to don the marigolds and get scrubbing at home! Oh he's a good'un my fella bless him. Just a nice little thing that brushes all the other crap under the carpet. 

Happy Days people and I shall be back soon for another episode of Wife, Mother, Disaster Area.

Unclog the Blockage!

Hello! And again it appears it has been rather a sizable period since my last entry and for anyone who care's, I do apologise. Unfortunately I have had a number of excuses, some among them being

• I forgot how to turn on my computer.
• I have no life to write about.
• I have too many unfinished task's... still remaining unfinished.
• My dog ate my computer.
• I had a clog in my brain that no plunger could unblock, inhibiting my writing efforts.
• I'm lazy.

I think that's enough to be getting on with. Now I have officially excused myself, I believe I shall begin an entry. Please, If I may be so bold, read on.

Just plunging back in.

As I previously mentioned it's been a while since I sat down at the keyboard. A number of seasons have passed, I returned to work after successfully weaning my son off the boob. I  sent my daughter off for her first day in Reception class, had a first Christmas with my son, made the decision to not have any more children, (still trying to get the husband to agree to the snip!) and waved goodbye to the allotment. (Still reigning as Queen of all unfinished.) 

I have however become a slightly more organised version of myself. My husband brought me the most fabulous Filofax for Christmas and it's just so bloody wonderful. I have planned and dated and booked holidays. I have remembered birthday's, (some, not all. Don't be silly.) sent cards and gift's in the mail almost on time.

My biggest achievement however is more of a reduction. Since the knicker drawer debacle I joined slimming world and lost a stone in five weeks! Mega impressed with myself and I feel my knickers are quietly thankful. On a serious note, one stone loss is a massive milestone and I feel that the all important size 14 is in the near future. I must stay away from Morrison's bakery section!

Well, I do believe that a quick catch up is just what I needed to get the ball rolling again. Be prepared for more day to day disaster's of the working class wife as, thanks to my fabulous Filofax, I've pencilled you in for an update at least weekly. So if you like what you read stick with me and join me on my incredibly normal life with some incredibly ridiculous happenings and my incapability of completing anything without at least a six month gapping period. Most of the time....longer.

Goodbye for now!

From Boob to Bottle

Yes my good people I've decided to make the move and try and put the little man onto the bottle. Partly because I wouldn't mind a night on the bottle myself but mostly because, well alright, it's mostly because I want a night on the bottle. (Don't you judge me! haha!) 

Prepare for self praise. I've done over 5 month's exclusively breast feeding (so formal, I'm going with 'feeding him myself.') I've done over 5 month's exclusively feeding him myself and I feel a sense of pride for doing so, also an overwhelming sense of pride in my son for being a dream and taking so well to it! Sleeping through the night since about 2 weeks, 6 hours at 2 weeks, 8 hours from 5 weeks and 10 hours from 7 weeks. One word.... lucky! I even had to check with the health visitor that I wasn't letting him sleep too much! He has 5 feeds during the day three to four hours apart, two or three nap times and bed at 9:00, so as you can see, we've done quite well. (With all this horn tooting smuggery I've probably created a monster who won't come off the boob until he's seven or something, then I'll be having to pay for therapy! I'll see if the horns being blown then!?)  However, now he's getting nosey and feeding time is less relaxed. Not for him of course but definitely for me. You see, he thinks my boob is a tumbler and that my nipple is some kind of bendy straw, just stretching  and bending it over to whatever he wants to look at, clamping his little gums firmly down on it at the same time.....OUCH! I've developed a condition called 'elastiboob' and my breasts now belong in some kind of baby feeding freak show, or could at the very least be used as sails in some new form of wind sport. 

Anyway, that's quite enough breast boob talk and horn tooting, especially seeing as I'm tooting my own, and let's move on to the milk that I've picked. After doing minimal research, i.e. asking face book friends and my two fabulous parent sisters, both my sister's have given me the right advice I feel. I have decided to go with Aptamil. Although with my little girl I went with Sma, (fed myself and then combination fed from 2 months) she was very easy to make the transition with, my boy however is reluctant to take even breast milk from a bottle therefore as sister Number 2 said this has the most similar taste to breast milk,  I'm going with it. I may still have to change bottles (Tommee Tippee at the moment) but if the taste is fairly similar and it looks to have more science going for it, (oh yeah, I'm absolutely down with the nucleotides and Omega's) then hopefully I've made the right decision. Watch this space people, watch this space. 

Anyway, wish me luck good people please, because although I'm trying to make light of the situation, nobody likes seeing their baby upset, and the last time I tried him on a bottle he was really upset, so I'm hoping to persevere and now he's a bit older, get a bit of a smoother transition. I can only hope.

Toodleoo!

Yay Holiday In More Way's Than One.

The Summer holidays are upon us, well, they have been for a week now, and I've found the rhythm quite nicely. My Girl has been really good up to now and so has my boy which is brilliant! I however have not been sleeping because of the damn heat but I've already had my whinge about that so I won't dwell. 

Here's something cool.....That's right people, me and the family are going on holiday! I don't know where as it's a surprise for me, but I can't wait to jolly well get there!

We did the surprise thing 3 years ago and my husband planned the whole thing. We spent a few days caravanning in Prestatyn Wales and it was brilliant. I have full confidence in the hubby's choice of hols, it will be great! I only have the one worry really, my gorgeous baby boy. The little monster will not drink from a bottle and because he's that good on the breast boob I haven't pushed it, but it'd be helpful if he would just take to it. Unfortunately I'm not the kind of person who's comfortable getting her boobs out in public. I don't care what people think about breast feeding, it's natural, we make it so we may as well use it and helloooo, it's FREE! I just don't like getting the girls out in public for all to see. I'm shy OK!? So that may prove challenging. The only thing I know about the holiday is that I'm going to need my walking boots so I guess I shall be spending time breast feeding in bushes or up tree's. This should be awesome! Talk about getting back to nature. (No sarcasm here, I actually really am excited!) It's going to be great spending real quality time with the family before I go back to work and before my girl goes into full time education. So I think this shows what kind of holiday I really want, well that's it then, the Burnett's are gonna rock it out in the wilderness! (I totally hope anyway, I'll probably end up spending a week in London and coming home covered in soot and declaring bankruptcy! haha!)

Well, just a little whitter from me today so until next we meet, make the most of life as you only get the one! Toodleoo! 

Progress? Moi? No!

Good Afternoon and welcome to Wife Mother Disaster Area of the working class variety. 

I realise that in fact I don't appear to be working class in that I'm not working. Well I am actually, I'm still on maternity leave which finishes in only 8 weeks! *bawls eyes out uncontrollably* And in that time oh my do I have a lot to do. 

     Decided not to plant anything more on the allotment. Everything that we are growing is flourishing which is brill, but we need to research and plan for the spring. This year was always going to be a learning curve as far as that went, but with a new baby on the boob and a full time working husband we've not been able to manage it as well as we'd hoped. Need to research a LOT on the best way to plant things. I've fished out an old subject book which I'm going to fill with plans and advice for plot maintenance. So this years plan, continue with what is growing and clear, fertilise and maintain the rest until Spring hits. Then the baby will be weaned, the eldest will be in school, I shall still have all day to faff and potter. Excellent.

     On the clear out the crap front, as usual I have made absolutely no progress what so ever which is why I am the disaster area I claim to be. If anything I've just made it all worse. I've done a lot of shifting all the crap from one room to another, does that count? Yes, that totally counts, I'm having that! 

     Having said that, the front room is a little better, I have actually hoovered my bedroom and my kitchen and living room are kept clean obviously as I have to with a baby and a 4 year old but the bathroom at it's worst. It's still not decorated (5 years now!)  and it is more of a waste bin than ever before, now filled with bin bags of clothes that either do not fit, are completely threadbare or un-seasonal, all to got to charity shops and clothes bins etc. It's a veritable playgound of adventure for my girl who insists on dive bombing on the piles before every bath time!

If only tidying my own disaster zone was as easy as
sorting out my daughters!

     I really must make an effort to sort this house out! It won't be long before I have to move the baby into his own room, (another room completely filled to the ceiling with junk!)  I left little woman in with us until she was one and that was only because we hadn't cleared/ decorated her room either. Honestly, we clearly need rockets up our bums before we even attempt to get things done.
   Anyone else like me? Any tips of motivation? Any tips on where to begin as far as 'total clear out' operations go? I think I need help, clearance therapy or something. Is there a crystal/herbal tea/magic spell to cure this sort of thing? If there is let me know, I am open to all avenues.

    Must get organised!

(Sing it Please.....) HEAT WAVE!

Too. Bloody. Hot!
Total. Dehy. Dration.
Can't. Type. Another. Word.

*Sigh* Of course all of the above is a pack of lies, but this heat is quite simply making a giant sweaty monster of me. I'd be confident in sweating off loads of weight if I wasn't trying to re-hydrate myself with cinnamon swirl pastries. 

*Squelch* I've boycotted bathing. I've just filled the bath up with Soltan SPF 50 and started each day by dipping me and the kids in it, ensuring that we stay the lovely pastey English white that we should be, as opposed to the lovely lobster red colour that the English seem take on after braving the sunshine for too long, only to live in regret the next day when taking that first shower or ripping burnt thigh's off of a leather sofa.

*Drip* Convinced that my brain had melted and is now oozing out of the pores in my forehead in the form of intellectual sweat. Must try and collect it and bathe in it after I drain the Soltan out of the tub. Hmm, don't think I even own a funnel.

*Pffffff* When living in the Lake District you do NOT get used to this kind of weather. I'm used to the rain and the wind and I love it! But this heat when surrounded but this many hills? I have to climb Mount Doom (slight exaggeration, but roll with it for the comedic visual.) just to get back from Morrisons for feck sake! That with a pram of shopping, sun in your face and a four year old on a scooter is going to do things to you. Physically and mentally. And I don't even get to rid the world of evil after the voyage is complete!

*Boing* My hair does strange things in the humidity.

*Sigh Again.* I'm so tired and yet I can't sleep because the heat keeps making me have weird dreams. Pregnancy, not being able to find my kids, hearing things. Might well be having a psychotic episode apart from the fact I don't want to kill anybody. I couldn't be bothered because it's too bloody hot! Oh yes, that reminds me, I must get a hammer and chisel tomorrow and get prepared to remove the countless layers of Soltan when the rain finally comes back. (Not as psychotic episode props! I'll leave that to the pro's, Jason, Freddie, Micheal Myers etc.) 

*Glug* I reckon that's my heat whinge over with. I'm now off for a brew and a James Bond whinge with the husband. We've done Connery, Lazenby, Connery and Moore this week, I refuse to sit through Dalton until the new week begins. Bloody new Sky On Demand Router! I'm now on a mission to take over... The name's Disaster. Wife Mother Disaster. Step away from the remote!

Happy Fecking Birthday!

Ahoy there! And what a fecking hilarious welcome into my 31st year. 

Here's the gist, not in any particular order, but all happened today.

• Bubbles thrown all over the kitchen by a hysterical 4 year old with a phobia of ants. Ant on the bubble tub, daughter saw the ant, screamed and launched the bubbles. Cue frothy mess all over the kitchen. Granted, it needed a scrub anyway, but I did not want to be forced into it on my birthday!
• Crushed globe jig-saw by the same daughter. After being told "don't roll it or throw it treasure it'll break." And "It's not like a ball, it won't bounce." Daughter pretends it's a chair instead (naturally!) and caves it in with her petite little bum. Repairable but a serious pain in my own arse to get the last piece in. Still not succeeded.
• Nappy water bowl launched across the bedroom by me, accidental, not temperamental, fecking king size duvet on a double bed! Too much swishing about and SPLASH!
• stubbed toes from myself and my daughter on the ladder in the bathroom, (of course, where the hell else do you want me to keep my ladder?)
•  and finally I forgot to put the effing jeffing bins out this morning so that will be nicely festering by next week especially if the weather hots up.

However, I did get to see the whole thing through wearing a brand new pair of Converse All Stars (apart from the toe stubbing where i was going commando,)  and with a belly full of KFC, Thornton's Moments and brews in my very own 'Star Mum' giant mug. Yummy! I also had a little surprise birthday cake which was great. Lets face it, what is a birthday without cake? Oh, and family of course ;D

A Fairy Tale Moment

All about the Khaki

Once upon a time there was a 16 year old teenager. She was average looking with braces, black and red hair and a penchant for hanging around pub's. One chilly night, this teenager decided to go and watch a few local bands play at one such pub. She arrived nice and early (7:30pm, only 16 remember,) wearing khaki combats, a khaki vest, a baggy knitted jumper with holes in and some Dr. Martens, and went to the bar to order her favourite tipple. This tipple was a raspberry Panda Pop as she was too scared to order alcohol for fear of a) being refused and b) going home drunk. (Parents would be furious!)

So there she was, Panda Pop in hand, when she noticed a long haired gentleman sat at the other side of the bar. Being a little bit ballsy (though not enough to defy the parents and get drunk,) and slightly hyper off the ridiculous blue colouring of the Panda Pop, she decided that she would go forth and introduce herself to the stranger sat among his friends. She did it, they laughed, they went out for a while and she ended up marrying......... his friend.

The one I married

And they are currently living a happy existence with their kids and their cat, in their castle 3 story terrace which never gets hoovered.

Not The End.

P.S. This would be one of those moments I refer to in  my very first post,  The Beginning for you, not for me. where i mention that when events dry up I shall dig up some history. Consider some history dug. 

Happy Bloggy Birthday!

Woo Hoo! This Blog has reached it's first birthday!

Two birds, one stone.
Cake and big boobs.

Bit of a joke really, I had a seven month gap between posts, still I've averaged 2 posts a month, not too bad. I have no idea what I wanted to accomplish with this blog exactly. Promote earth worms?  Show people I can bake cakes? Promote important political views? Discuss big boobs? Clearly not a 'how to get organised' blog, that sort of thing doesn't tend to be mentioned in the same sentence as me. But, the one thing I do hope is that I gave a few people a giggle in the last year and that'll make me happy.

Earth worm
I promote thee.

I think this blog is largely my sort of journal on a hotch potch of things, as my life is also largely hotch potch and I'm sure there are many a disaster area mother/wife much like myself who also take part in a spot of hotch potchery. And as it is my bloggy birthday, I shall have a glass of wine, (alcohol free wine,oh alright it's bloody Schloeur OK!) and raise my glass to you. Toast! May we have many a happy hotchy potchy day, doing whatever it is that we do. Cheers!

 If there are any disaster area mother's out there and you per chance get to a bit of reading my bloggliness, then please, comment, leave me a link to your blog if you keep one or follow me on twitter https://twitter.com/Kyla_Burnett I would love to share views and swap experiences. So Here's to another, hopefully more regular year of blogging and I hope to speak to some of you soon!

Kyla

Day Status: Busy!

Hello and welcome! 

Goodness me. Today was one of those days. The kind of day when you just don't manage to even get a hot brew down you. The morning specifically. I shall go through the morning in bullet points if you don't mind. Would you care to join me? Please do. Grab a cuppa, (preferably hot!) and read along with me.

1. Wake up - obviously
2. Make a brew
3. Hear the baby stir - stir brew have a sip. Brew Status: Hot
4. Change and feed baby - eldest enters the room.
5. Prepare eldest's brekkie - Some chocolate malarkey, bad parenting.
6. Sip brew - Brew status: tepid
7. Get self dressed - long loose top and jeggings. Jeggings status: Up.
8. Dress eldest in freshly laundered uniform - not off of the bedroom floor, good parenting.
9. Sip brew - Brew status: cold. Nuke it. (Microwave it for those who no not this term.)
10. Sip Brew - Brew status: Hot again.
11. Sort family hair - me: Messy with Fudge Shaper, Husband: ponytail, he did it himself clever boy. Eldest: French plait. I did it, clever girl.
12. Load baby into pram, put sun cream on and gather school tit bits - Jeggings status: slightly lower.
13. Sip brew - Brew status: tepid again. Bollocks!
14. School run - Jeggings status: gathering at knees.
15. Home again, hug baby and put him in chair with toys.
16. Plug in iron and put kettle on.
17. Make brew, sip it -Brew status: hot.
18. Start ironing, burn elbow - Iron status: Really fecking hot!
19. Finish ironing, sip brew - Brew: status cold. Give up on brew, pour glass of orange juice.
20. Take baby upstairs, sing silly songs and cuddle him.
21. Lay baby on the bed - bad parenting. 
22. Fetch ironed clothes - swear at iron on passing. It remains un-forgiven for the burn.
23. Put clothes away and sing to baby - Jeggings status: way down!
24. Clean bathroom, change baby and hoik up jeggings - jeggings status: uncomfortably high. Must get new pants.
25. School run part 2 - hug daughter, get home, make sarnies of choice.

And that was just the morning. Cold brews, hot iron and tight pants, what a day! The afternoon brought more mayhem of course. My girl choked on a grape and fell down the stairs! Fortunately only a bruised bum is left to remind her to hold onto the banister. Poor lass. And all I've managed to do between playing and soothing bruises and shock, is feed my baby and do a few loads of washing, all the while practically dehydrating from my lack of hot brews!

I reckon tomorrow will bring more of the same. Not that I mind of course but I really would like a ho cuppa. I think that's the only thing I miss from having the wee 'uns. Still, if that's the only thing missing from my life, along with the lottery win I've been craving, then I don't reckon I'm doing too badly. 

I'm falling asleep over the keyboard here, probably from lack of tea, so I'm thinking I need to wrap it up. I want to write about my allotment because I'm so chuffed with how things are going on it. Most of my veg are flourishing, but well, that's for next time. 

Toodlepip all. Good morning or sweet dreams depending on the time!

Silent Sunday

No Comedy, just the beauty of being a mummy.

Oh Knickers!

Hello there one and all!

I was getting my little girl ready for school this morning when suddenly she said "Mummy, I've got a wedgie!" Obviously it's time I bought the girl some new undies, she's growing up way too fast for my liking. Then I thought to myself, I can't even remember the last time I had a wedgie and then I looked at the contents of my knicker drawer.

Just a little sketch to put the point across.
Well, I wasn't taking pictures of my knicker drawer!

Well it's no bloody wonder I don't have wedgies any more, you should see the size of my crackers!  Parachutes and tall ship sails as far as the eye can see. It's a wonder I haven't been carried off whilst blow drying!

   The reason? Well that's it isn't it, since having my babies I appear to have been purchasing yacht sails and wearing them as underpants. As a parent I do have to go for comfort as I'm sure a lot of you are aware, walking along on the school run picking lacey knickers out of your bum is not something your kid's want to be associated with. And no child  needs "Oh yeah, that's knicker picker's son!" being shouted at the school gates about them. School's hard enough! 

   I did however find 4 pairs of pretty patterned things obviously acquired before I started buying underwear from bosun's locker, and before baby number 2, when I had time to practise the art of seduction. All that's gone to pot now of course, the best we can hope for is a quick "are they asleep? Quick get naked!" and away we go! I mean, planning a lace encased evening of passion is nigh impossible! So alas I have become the queen of the cotton gusset. Practical, comfortable and minimal chance of a yeast infection. (We've all had 'em, and we know it ain't good!)

   I digress, the point is I'm utterly shocked about the size of my 'smalls' because this lead me to thinking at great length (or rather width) about another thing. Good God, you should see the size of my arse! Yes, not rocket science I admit.  Maths tutorial

                             large knickers = lard erm I mean, large arse.

   I shall HAVE to do something about this! I'm not completely massive but I could certainly do with losing a few pounds, to stop the chaffing if nothing else. I'm thinking about Slimming World. I managed to lose a stone and a half last time, put a stone back on like, but kept the half off. Now I think it's high time I re-tackled it! I don't mind being buxom, but for the sake of my health, and my knicker drawer, it's time to fight some flab! I'm going for it, lose 5 pounds and treat myself to a new pair of satin knickers. 

   With a cotton gusset of course!

  

 Is there anyone else who, with parenthood looming over you, have opted for the cotton? Can you be bothered donning silk G-strings instead of Bridget Jones' style bloomers? Do share, but not with too much detail please.

Thrill Seekers!

   Hullo there reader! After doing a spot of cleaning the other morning -nothing major just pots, ironing, squirted a bit of polish so it smelled like I'd done some- I decided to phone sister number three of the first batch to see if she and the kids wanted to meet me and my brood for a wee wander. The answer was positive and the plan was to walk and meet up half way. We stuck to the plan and did indeed walk and meet halfway, the halfway line being The Dock Museum of Barrow in Furness, Cumbria. 

    We said our Hello's, and complained about the heat as we trundled along Channelside walk. We admired the lavender which smelt lovely, as we approached Jubilee Bridge. All very tame and normal until.... there came the simply WILD behavior.

  Well my family are obviously adrenaline junkies. We have clearly set a new bar on devil-may-care activities. What did we do? Be patient and I shall tell you. Bungee jump? No. Sky dive? No. Waiting on Jubilee Bridge for a bus to come and make it jolt? Abso-bloody-lutely!!! We take it to a new level of thrill seeking. I should have been more careful of course, involving my offspring, sibling and niece and nephew-ing, in such a reckless activity but hey, I've used it before and I'll use it again, that's just how I roll. 

Oh Look! I actually do bake bread.
Just absolutely not first thing in the morning.

   Nothing else of great importance has been happening over the past couple of days, just the normal day to day malarkey. You know the sort of stuff, waking up get the kids fed, washed, dressed. Put a wash load on, peg the wet stuff out, make pack ups, bake fresh bread and cakes etc. Hahaha! I'm obviously lying through my teeth here, I think we can all safely say that I'm a bare minimum kind of woman. And talking of teeth, I'm lucky if mine get scrubbed before 9:10 a.m! If they don't, I just have to make sure I don't smile or chat on the school run. (Cue thoughts of "ignorant, sour faced cow.") I then have to make time for chin wagging on the pick up,  (cue thoughts of "weird, schizophrenic cow") to catch up on the parent gossip. I have to say though, I've never been to school in my pj's, I mean, you've got to set some standards for the children haven't you haha!

   That my friends is about all I have to share at the moment. I'm off on the hunt for some other Mum and craft blogs.

   Toodleoo!

    

I'm going Bald!!

   That's right people, I'm losing my hair. I'm telling you, it's not like I haven't got a high enough forehead to begin with, I've now been graced with an extra half inch for goodness sake. It happened after my first baby too. Everything is great for about 3 months, then suddenly the bath water drains a hell of a lot slower and you start picking rather long hairs out the crack of your butt. Oh believe me, it's every bit as attractive as it sounds.
 I googled it, (postpartum hair loss, not hairy bum picking) something about your follicles going dormant because they don't rest while you're pregnant, hence the luxuriant locks you get during pregnancy. Children have a lot to answer for, it's a good job my boy is cute bless him.

   Mind you, it's probably a good thing this hair loss malarkey, it's prompted me to get a long overdue haircut. (Just trying to find the silver lining here!) It's about time I had a spot of pampering so I have booked in for the weekend. A cut and colour with a compulsory fringe to camouflage the receding hairline. They better do a good job as well, they're charging me 70 quid! Still at least it only takes about 8-12 months to rectify itself and start growing again. I can then go back to not bothering with haircuts and looking like a bedraggled, land bound mermaid, with only hair and shells to cover my lady lumps. Oh yeah, that's how I roll!

   Well readers, that is about the gist of today's session. Short and sweet, much like my hair will be after the chop! 

    If this is happening to anyone else.... just thank whatever gods you believe in that it isn't your teeth! That's what I'm doing.

Toodleoo!