End of September mornings are tough. Even alarm cat has slunk off to snooze somewhere.
Best. Feeling. Ever.
No school until September.
I missed a bit…
The last of the puddings.
You know that last bit of pudding? That last bit of strawberry pavlova sitting there on the table?
The one piece that everyone is looking at but is far too polite to ask for. The one that makes everyone pull a face like Christmas is over…
Well tough because whilst we were all yearning, Evie has just leaned over and scoffed it.
Millie was sent home from school today. She’s not very well. Arnie is on call as cat nurse.
Gruff has unexpectedly closed. Please restart Gruff. If this does not work please run an overnight re-boot.
Gold, Frankenstein and something else.
The wonderful world of tights.
Tug of War.
Falling asleep at the same time as your children.
The great escape…
…to the cinema, far away from Daddy’s lurgy.
The nightmare shopping trip before Christmas.
To anyone I bopped with my wrapping paper rolls, sorry.
Gruff has discovered how to tumble toss!
The Cannonball Run.
Changing your child’s nappy in public.
The Big Squeeze.
Well summer is briefly here at long last. Not sure how much of it we’ll get but our vegetables are looking great.
With the kids help, we’ve planted so much this year that I’m in danger of becoming Felicity Kendall with the chickens and the veg patch.
Although she didn’t have kids.
And I don’t do dungarees.
Fair swap really.
Yello Lorry, Green Lorry…
Digging for victory…
Evie’s got a gun…
Tiddle, taddle, toddle.
And the little one said…
Doctor Who is back on the TV!
Teeny Tiny Ants.
A Grassy Adventure.
She sells sea shells.
I think my children are growing behind my back…
Me and my Shadow.
…for talking incessantly the minute you walk in from work.
I’m sorry for letting Evie and Gruff climb all over the chair while you were balanced precariously on top of it changing the light bulb.
I’m sorry that Evie runs to the toilet the minute you get in so you can’t go and have to wait.
I’m sorry Gruff filled his nappy while I was cooking so you had to change it.
I’m sorry Gruff left all the lego all over the floor for you to fall over and clonk your head.
I’m sorry that I ate all of the Maltesers you hid in the mouldy biscuit barrel.
Oh and I’m sorry the cat’s vomited in your shoe…again
Cup of tea?
Spring is coming!
I want a new Dolly, Mam.
Now let’s just get one thing straight, I don’t and will not ever Trevor buy my children stuff when they are demanding it.
Evie and Millie have mastered the art of subtly breaking their Mother down until she has unwittingly agreed into buying a herd of ponies or something else she can’t quite remember agreeing on but apparently she said yes to ten weeks ago when they were ill …
I normally get a breakdown of my apparent agreement to buying the said herd of ponies in intricate detail. Maybe they hypnotize me when I’m sleeping…
You have to give Evie credit here for being so flipping bolshy. I win this one, no new Dollies, and no amount of arguing or discussion on the benefits that a new Fairy Dolly will bring to the happiness of our house will change my mind.
A bedtime story for everyone!
What’s new pussycat?
Evie’s Nanas gets a wash.
One small step for a boy.
A Hard Day in Rain Town.
I’ve gone and Lost it – Part 2 The search continues…
Gruff, the creator and destroyer of towers.
Sunday Night Blues.
Baby Led Weaning…
Gruff, time for a weigh in and some vaccinations!
Late night discord.
I don’t think this needs any words, apart from yes I am a grumpy cow, especially when sleep deprived.
What my seven year old thinks of the Miss World Beauty Contest…
Feeding the pigeons…
…and the chickens, the ducks, rabbits, geese, ponies, and fish….we fed them all!
Shopping for me.
Shopping in Aldi.
If you have the packing skills of a ninja and a purse as broke as mine, then why not take the kids for a shopping experience at Aldi.
First of all is the wonderful array of tat that you find strangely compelled to buy. Useless? No it’ll be really useful that, erm, collection of scented in soles . Look I can even cut them out to fit my feet!
Oh yes and there’s the fascinating tins in different languages. Want tomatoes? Well tough, you’ve got a tin with a picture of a tomato on and something else…
oh well, chuck it in the trolley, I’m sure no one will notice the difference in the spag boll…