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Showing posts from 2016

The Holiday Blog

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Holiday minus 1 Holidays cost.   I’m not talking about the flights or the accommodation or the hundred weight of toiletries.   Or the new clothes (and underwear; how does that happen?)   Plenty in the drawer and then boom!   Not enough for a mini-break, let alone a fortnight in the sun.   )   Oh no.   There’s all the preparation to account for.   Husband:   Haircut.   Me:   Cut and colour.   Foot overhaul at the chiropodist (so much more ruthless than a pedicure).   Eyebrow threading.   Spray tan (scrapped this time round after being a bit David Dickinson last time).   Bikini wax.   All this in the name of not scaring the children .   Husband doesn’t get it.   Absolutely bamboozled by a bikini wax.   Why can’t I do it myself (like I do all year).   Because I want to pay for the humiliation of making small talk whilst a girl half my age and size attacks my nethers with a level of scrutiny and precision last exercised by the doctor who sewed me back together after giving birth.  

Where I Did Not Know and possibly Got It Wrong

There’s no shortage of sticks and the opportunity to beat yourself with them in parenthood.   It’s a minefield.   Maybe it gets easier with subsequent children, but for firsts or onlys, every day has got the potential for you to do something wrong.   Doing stuff wrong is an alien concept for me.   I’m a planner, a thinker, a reviser.   I treated pregnancy like I did my academic qualifications; reading, research, planning.   I didn’t go into it half-baked, and much of the research was focussed on how to get a girl.   Grapes and strawberries, apparently. Copious bowls of Frosties and eggs (not together, I’m not an animal) were also part of my diet, but I was well pregnant by then so imagine they didn’t have any impact on the pink or blue issue.   I wanted a girl, and was willing to take a bit of dubious advice.   I’m no scientist, who am I to argue?   Anyway, I Got It Right.   Early babyhood was approached similarly, and really, there’s not that much to get wrong. So, from right

I like to move it move it

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I went for a gym run last week, I didn't fancy their tunes, so I cranked my favourite iTunes album on - Ministry of Sound Anthems 90.  427 minutes of pure joy. Well, probably 400, there are a few duffers in there (King of My Castle, Ebeneezer Goode and Don't Call Me Baby, if you're asking). I had to have it loud to drown out the perma-playlist (and the sound of my heavy breathing).  and it was exhilarating. Although my feet were pounding a mechanical pavement, my head was in various 90s local hotspots...Ferraris...Paradox...Reds...Some of the songs actually made me run faster and I had to speed the treadmill up.   My speed songs seem to be: Things Can Only Get Better by D’ream Son of a Gun by JX U Sure Do by Strike Feel free to sing as you’re reading now… Then I got in the car, where my radio was set to Radio 1, and there was some kind of old and new mash-up going on.  I should admit that Radio 1 is at Daughter's insistence, having decided t