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I've lost my mojo.

My mojo has gone and done a runner!  Actually it's my cleaning mojo that has gone. It could be that after a week of  everyone being at home, with the both the kids and the dogs doing mud sprints through the house from the garden that I've given up any pretence of appearing a little bit house proud.  There is a pile of washing to be ironed and a pile of washing to be washed and I really can't be bothered.  I mean, what is the point?  I'm only going to have to do it all again! BH has noticed, and  has commented. I was planning on visiting an old school pal on the Friday. "But it's "Cleaning Day" on Friday!" "Whaddyamean...Cleaning day?"  This phrase has never been mentioned and the very thought of it actually makes me feel a little bit sick. "Well..." he said, his eyes darting wildly (avoiding mine!) and I could see he was having trouble weighing up how to say what he was going to say. "You always clean up on a Frid

Five things I want my kids to know about me....but not just yet!

Following in the vein of the bloggers I so admire ( thanks to @notesfromhome), I thought I'd add mine into the mix. I'm probably repeating some very wise words (actually, I'm probably not!), and these are some of the things that my kids will probably think are gross now, but when they reach my age will realise that I'm a pretty cool mum. They may not see it, as they have no one else to compare me with just yet! 1. I once gave up my job because it interfered with my social life! OK, so it probably wasn't a good move, but if I hadn't left, I think they may have sacked me so I took a leap of faith and it threw up various opportunities which would never have happened had I not thrown in the towel. My parents never made me do anything I didn't want to do, and told me I could be whoever I wanted to be...and this is what I want for you. Do something you love...it makes life so much easier! 2. I had a ball as a twenteen. I did because I had no ties. I tra

Do clothes maketh man, especially if you don't wear them?

Before the kids I was a savvy shopper.  Everything went with something. My wardrobe was arranged perfectly, and I would spend hours working out what I needed. I still have those clothes but they no longer fit. In fact, very little fits.   I used to walk the dogs in beautiful velvet trousers until one of the mums from the school gate commented on them. "Ohh, I see you're walking the dogs in velvet trousers.  How decadent!" I'm still not sure if she was being admiring or sarcastic!  From the look on her face I believe it was possibly the latter. Most of the mums at the school gate look pretty amazing, and I wonder how they do it, especially as they seem to have 3 or 4 sprogs in tow. Now it's jeans and a white t-shirt (if I can find a clean one), often it's a dressing gown until 12, (in my defence I work long hours!), then a quick change into track suit bottoms, wellingtons and a jumper to walk the dogs, then another quick change into smart (ish)

Lets talk about dying...

How many times over the past year have a shielded my kids from that inevitable fact?  The one where we're all going to suffer the same fate and die?  Is it fair to shroud it mystery?  Is it fair for the subject to be taboo?  In this household we've suffered our fair share of family deaths and the kids know that some people and animals die before their time. They've been given the "nice" story, the one that says everyone who dies goes to a nicer place where the sun always shines and everyone is good and no one is horrible.  The animals meet their owners, brothers meet sisters, families look after each other....and everyone is happy.  That's good, because it gives them something to believe in and stops them having nightmares....and it stops the awkward questions that I have no answer to. "Mummy, where do the tigers go?" "Mummy, does the bad man go there too?" "Mummy, will they be able to take their favourite toys?" "Mum

It was the lack of sleep that made me do it......

Someone asked on Twitter what is the worst thing you have done when sleep deprived?  It got me thinking because there are many things that I've done whilst sleep deprived, but as I'm used to staying up all night I can usually handle sleep deprivation. The only thing that drives me to distraction is getting up early! I'll happily stay awake all night, just don't make me get up at the crack of dawn or my life is one complete misery, where I'm counting the hours until I can go to bed or at least have a doze...even then I still have a moan!  Make me stay up all night .....easy peasy!! There was one incident when Bart was a baby and me a complete newbie.  He was about 4 months old and I'd been away for a few days (work, just in case you're thinking I had a wild weekend away!).  I'd come in after pulling an all nighter, and was so happy to be home, sent the nanny packing for a few days. I happily looked after Bart all day and when it came to put him down, wa

I like a nice cup of tea...

I love tea. I love coffee too, but I love tea more.  I love the strong, malty flavour of tea and I drink, cups upon cups.I like my tea in a thick mug, not the thin china ones normally used, and the bigger the cup the better. I can usually tell if I've over done it as my teeth go a stained yellowy colour, which quickly comes off with a quick brush. No one can make a cup of tea like me or my ma. And I never order a pot of tea in a restaurant or a cafe, or at a friends home...that's always coffee. My ma introduced us all to tea when we were kids. We'd come home from school and immediately through the door, Ma would put on the kettle and cut the bread for the toast.  It was always tea and toast after school.  Thick slices of toast, topped with a slice of butter (yummy) and finished off with a dollop of homemade blackberry jam. I can see us all now, standing in the kitchen waiting for our cup of tea and slices of toast...the eldest first down to the youngest. The tea was sweet

"That dog is a nightmare!"

Lovely Ben and  the girlfriend have been looking after Peewee and Chubba while we were on our hols.  I didn't call home during our sojourn, for fear that the house had burnt down (and I was enjoying myself too much), but I did have a peek on Facebook and found that Peewee had chewed up "the girlfriends shoes."  I thought there may have been worse, and didn't want to be told that Peewee had chewed the kitchen to an inch of its life so crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.  Chubba is the best behaved dog I've ever had.  He's sweet, loyal and lies on my feet. His kisses are sweet and gentle and I know I can rely on him not to embarrass me.  Peewee, however, is a bit of a thug.  He's trouble with a capital T, and beats up Chubba and loves being outside.  His kisses are big massive licks with his tongue aimed accurately into the mouth! Yuk, I know.  He has commandeered the sofa like he was born to occupy it, and slithers over Chubba and off chairs like a