- I am absolutely shit at housework. No, scratch that, it’s not the housework I’m bad it, any idiot can work a Hoover. It’s the inclination I lack. And the fact that it all needs doing over and over and over again is what gets me. No sooner have I got the house tidy, someone changes their clothes or wants a meal, or some other inconsiderate thing and it all starts again.
- I watch way too much telly. I have a core rotation of shows that I watch every week (Misfits, Desperate Housewives, Being Erica, Life Unexpected, Criminal Minds, The Simpsons, Come Dine With Me, Grand Designs to name but a fraction) plus I supplement these with regular viewings of whatever is on the Good Food Channel, and at least an hour of Friends re-runs every day. God, looking at all of that, it actually scares me to think that I watch SO much telly…
- I’m self-deprecating to a really annoying degree. Like, I really hardly ever say anything nice about myself, and I take any opportunity to make a mean joke or take the piss out of myself. This is a skill I have honed over 20-odd years, and I am really good at it. I can make a self directed insult out of the most tenuous of prompts. Husband hates it.
- Being a wife/mother/daughter/daughter-in-law/friend is the only thing that really means anything to me. You could take all the other shit away and just leave me with the people who I love and I’d still be as happy as a pig in the proverbial. And no, that wasn’t a fat joke. For once.
- I’m ridiculously sensitive. Husband says I could start a row in an empty room with no windows or doors. I have this innate flaw which means I alway think that people are getting at me. This is one of the things I really wish I could change about myself, but don’t really know where to start.
- Despite my declaration about my loved ones, I’m actually really rubbish at staying in touch with people. I get this thing where I go a bit reclusive for a while and don’t contact anyone, and then when I come out of my cave I feel like I’ve left it too long and people will be mad at me and I don’t want to call people if they’re mad and maybe I should just stick my head in the sand and pretend everything is okay and there aren’t any phone calls I should be making.
- Sometimes it’s really hard work being inside my brain. Above, being the perfect example. I’ve always been afflicted with an ‘over thinking’ problem.
- I don’t make friends very easily as I wear my heart on my sleeve and tend to take it as a sign that others don’t like me if they aren’t the same way. In real life, this translates to me meeting someone, telling them my life story, then assuming they don’t like me when they don’t reciprocate. See? Hard work.
- I love writing a blog but have become a little obsessed with my site stats. In fact, sometimes, if I write a post and don’t get many hits that day, a tiny part of my brain tells me to stop blogging. But I don’t stop and then I have a good day and am glad I didn’t stop.
The box looks worryingly skinny…are we going to have an anorexic tree?!
Have now assembled the tree…it’s slim, but by no means underweight! Not bad for £9.99 from Amazon!
Now we just need some decorations! Sausage and I are going to be making some salt dough decs once I can get into town and find some festive cookie cutter shapes (can you believe that Waitrose want £8 for one cutter?!). Does anyone have any suggestions for other homemade decorations I can make with a 2 and 1/3 year old?
If you’ve read my blog before, you may have seen this, where I slammed the internet for being full of weirdos and a generally dodgy place to be sometimes. And I still maintain that, if used in the wrong way, the internet can be dangerous, especially to those who are still beautifully innocent and unencumbered with the shittier aspects of humanity. But this past couple of weeks, I have gained a little bit of context and it’s reinstilled my faith in Al Gore’s greatest invention.
Unless you’ve been living in a subterranean bunker (or, say, another country…) you’ll be aware that the UK received a rather unseasonable coating of the white stuff which has, more or less, brought the country to a standstill. This couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time, as we’re all deep into the consumer frenzy that is the build up to christmas. This, however, has not been a problem for me. I have managed to do all of my christmas shopping on the internet (save for a couple of things that I got at Peacocks, my sister works there and gave me a voucher for 40% off!). I considered venturing out to buy a christmas tree, but with Amazon selling a 6ft tree, at only £9.99, reduced from £32.50, leaving the house seemed a unneccesary embuggerance!
I’m not one of those people who does well with the christmas shopping experience. I hate queueing., and hate people who cut queues even more. I hate the crowded shops, I hate the way the shops think it’s a great idea to cram as much shit down one aisle as possible, making it impossible to navigate with a pushchair, and a toddler who just loves to grab things off of the shelves as we’re walking by. I hate the rudeness that christmas brings out in people too. If I’ve held open one door, only for people to waltz through without saying thank you, I’ve held open half a million. And I’m not the type to take it lying down, so I generally spend my day shouting “YOU’RE WELCOME!” after rude arseholes who think a woman with a buggy is just an elaborate doorstop.
So this year, the internet has been an utter godsend. For the past 4 years, we’ve sworn that we’ll start our shopping early and do it all on the ‘net, and just never quite got ourselves organised enough to actually do it. But this year, I finally understand why we’ve been promising to do it all this time! The only thing I need to actually leave the house for is tinsel and baubles, and that’s only because I fully intend to go to the Pound Shop to get them as I begrudge spending lots of money on what is effectively shredded shiny paper and painted lightbulbs. Also, there’s no way in hell I’m going to pay for delivery! We’re even planning to do our food shopping online, although judging by the shit that Tesco have been pulling lately, we’ll be lucky if even half of it arrives.
So there you go, people, that’s my guide to stress-reduced Christmas. Although, I just know my luck, it’ll all go really smoothly, until I get to town and find that there are NO tree decorations left in any shop, except the really expensive designer ones. In which case, we’ll be making our own.
(Note to self, remember to save all of the cardboard tubes from toilet roll, in case of emergency tree-fairy construction)
They say there’s no such thing as a selfless good deed. Today, I stepped in to help out my new friend, Elle, at This is Mommyhood, but in the bargain I managed to wangle an awesome guest post from her, which may seem cruel in her current sickly state, but as it turns out she’s just as awesome when she’s ill! So, without further ado, I hand my blog over to Elle and hope to delight and entertain with:
When I First Got Married I Thought Couples Who Had Separate Bedrooms Were Crazy. Several Years Later, I Think It’s The Best Idea Ever!
Time: 10 pm-ish
My hubby likes to lie in bed and have quiet time. He’ll read his Mother Jones or Popular Science magazine with our cat laying on his chest. I’ll be watching a Friends repeat and occasionally the hubby will point something out in his magazine. I’ll nod, pretend I’m paying attention, and say something like “uh huh” or “oh cool”. After awhile he’ll put down his magazine, give the cat a few treats that she’ll puke up later, and turn off the light. Now this is where the fun starts.
Within ten minutes he’s snoring….loudly. Then he’ll start grinding his teeth. Ree Ree Ree Ree.
He hurt his leg awhile ago which can cause twitchy spasms. Maybe it’s because I keep my toenails so short but I think his toenails can rival Freddy Krueger. So his twitchy leg spasms trigger his Freddy Krueger toenails and he starts scratching the shit out of the sheets. Riiip Riiip Riiip.
Oh and did I mention that he likes to hang his feet over the end of the bed. So let’s recap.
He’s snoring away like a bear. Teeth grinding. Ree Ree Ree Ree. Leg twitching all over the place. Toenails slashing away at the sheets Riiip Riiip Riiip. And his feet are constantly pulling the covers down while I continually grab at them and pull up, grab and pull up.
I’m usually not asleep at this point, I mean how would that even be possible? By this time I’m reading OK! Magazine or watching an old episode of Sex And The City. Every now and then I
punch him in the arm or jab his twitchy leg with my foot lightly tap him to stop his snoring.
A few hours later I’ll still be wide awake, reading or on the computer. His snoring will be so loud that it will usually wake him up. He’ll look at the clock and see how late it is. Then he’ll tell me he can’t sleep and that I’m keeping him up. He’s lucky that I love him so much.
Thanks Elle, here’s to a beautiful friendship.
Don’t forget to go over to This is Mommyhood and read the guest post I did for Elle, who is suffering from the dreaded ills.
Get well soon, Elle!