Daniel Craig...

Well the year is coming to a close, which always gives us a chance to reflect back on the year that we have had.

Doesn't it?

Perhaps many of you don't want to. Perhaps some of you out there would rather not look back on your annus horribilis and would prefer to look more about the future...which is a good positive thing to do also.

However, I set myself some goals to do this year from my list, and even though I know I am in effect only half way through the allotted time to complete my list, with it being the end of the year also it seemed like the perfect time to look back and see what I have achieved.

The last six months since turning forty have been a bit of a roller coaster if I am honest. Since making the decision to go it alone, the hobbits and I have hit some lows but also some amazing highs, and the good news there is we are going from strength to strength.

I have not once regretted my decision. We are, in essence happier than what we were, especially when I consider how stressful everything was this time last year.

I have made new friends and become even closer to existing ones. I feel more independent and I am a stronger person thanks to those around me, including you Dad.

Dad you have been there every step of the way this year, and your advice has been supportive and kind. I may not have used it all...but like all advice from my friends I appreciate why it is given and consider myself very lucky that people care.

There are so many others and you all know who you are, I hope that I don't pester you all quite so much in 2013.

As for achievements - I passed my initial CBT!!!! Yeah!!! I am so unbelievably chuffed about that, and perhaps I haven't expressed that enough. 2013 will see me moving on to the next stage and hopefully passing the big bike test.

I know I have many other things to do and I like my list. I like having mini goals, even if it is just to purchase purple DM's. These boots have become my happy boots. If I ever have to do something that requires an extra 10% of happiness injection, then I wear those boots. They keep me grounded.

So, on with 2013. On with the rest of the list, with more to do and to achieve...I hope you can all make a list as it has really helped. Alas the only thing missing on my list, is the absence of having Daniel Craig in my life for 24 hours...however, there is always the year of being 41...

Happy New Year to you all!

Turkey sandwiches...

Well two days on, how many of you have had enough of turkey sandwiches already?

Christmas, I am pleased to say was a success in our house...lots of food, lots of games and lots of alcohol. The hobbits were very happy with what Santa brought them, and are now safely ensconced in Barcelona enjoying their second Christmas with their daddy.

I am enjoying a little mini hobbit break after the stress and build up to Christmas, as I confess at one point, the hobbits reached a level of excitement never attained before and I reached a stress level that I don't recall ever attaining before...

So, as much as I hate to let my hobbits go anywhere for too long, this little break with their father will do us all good. A chance to recharge my batteries, and to get over this rather rotten cold I have been cursed with since Christmas Eve.

So, I hope you are enjoying your break if you are off, however if you are back at work...I hope it remains quite for you so you can at least eat your turkey sandwiches in peace.

Merry Christmas...

The house is tidy...The hobbits have been asking to go to bed since they got up this morning...and I have been baking, lots...

So it must be Christmas Eve.

We have put out our letters, mince pie, carrot and glass of milk for the midnight visitors and are ready.

Hope Santa brings you everything you want and desire.

See you all on the other side xxx

He's behind you...

Well our Christmas started yesterday as it is official for us when we go to the pantomime.

Oh yes it is...as they say in all good panto's.

This year, the hobbits and I went to see Aladdin. The hobbits absolutely love the pantomime, I am never too sure but this year it was actually quite good..a few mistakes and hysterics from the cast, which makes it more fun for the adults.

So we are ready. I have even checked NORAD to track Santa, and he leaves in just under seven hours to start his journey, by the time the hobbits wake up he will have left the North Pole and will be on his way.

Exciting stuff...

We have food shopped like the rest of the country, we have wrapped and I have already started on the Bailey's like the rest of the mum's I know. Tomorrow is an attempt to clean up the house while excited hobbits roam around it, therefore will probably mess up each room just after I tidy it...then sit down with mince pie waiting for the big fat fella to arrive.

I am now in Christmas mode...not overly looking forward to the Boxing Day flight to Barcelona airport, but the less I think about that the better.

The New Year is on it's way...and I believe that 2013 is gonna be quite an amazing year.

Coming, ready or not...

At last...I have finished my Christmas shopping.

I confess I left things a bit late this year, having normally been so organised in previous years.

To be fair...I am not telling the whole truth, I have only done the Christmas shopping for people I am actually seeing on Christmas Day and before, I will do every one else in the aftermath.

It does seem never ending doesn't it? I was determined to stick to my budget this year, and I cut back a great deal on who got presents, and if they got them how many they got...I didn't even send Christmas cards this year, so friends please forgive me for being such a meanie this year.

Every thing is now wrapped as well, however very few presents are under the tree due to the present radar that each hobbit seems to posess. This always seems a bit of a shame to me...as the neatly wrapped gifts don't really get a chance to show off their glistening wrapping before being ripped off in a hobbit induced frenzy on Christmas Day morning.

The food shop is also complete...well, if it isn't now, then to hell with it, we will go without. I am not entering another supermarket for a few days at least.

So we are now down to two sleeps the hobbits reliably inform me, consequently just three sleeps till they go to Spain. Just to warn you, I may go away for a little bit of me time in the days after this so there may not be a blog for a few days, depending on whether I get time...but you never know, I may get inspiration during my me time.

We are off to the pantomime today, which the hobbits and I love...last year we saw Peter Pan and I have never seen Superman so intensely clap, saying 'I do believe in fairies, I do, I do.'

So catch you all later...after the show.

The Christmas party...

Ahhh, it is that time of year.

The office Christmas party.

Where a bunch of people who work very hard all year, go out and pretend to like each other and get into mischief.

Thankfully I work with a team of people who actually do, in the main really like each other. I am quite lucky as the people I work with are friendly and nice, and some of them I count on as my closest friends.

I was really looking forward to the evening.

I had, I confess, a dress that I had been looking forward to wearing for about three months having purchased it and never worn it earlier this year.

It wasnt cheap this dress...and it was a lovely shade of red...very Christmassy I thought.

Alas, since I bought this dress I have lost more weight. Which of course, from one point of view is really good news and I am pleased. However, putting it on from something that fitted me perfectly just two and a half months ago, it now felt like a limp rag on me.

To say I was dissapointed is somewhat of an understatement. I have lost weight round my hips so it just hung there and it is probably best not to mention what has happened to my boobs. Even the babysitter suggested a lift up with some chicken fillets!

However, it was too late to change by the time I decided it was pants so I wore it anyway. Nobody of course noticed, but I could feel it all evening...so consequently will just have to go out and buy another dress. Shucks.

The good news, is that I wasn't the only one with a dress disaster. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be a bitch...but sometimes, just on the rare occasions there are times when something someone wears has to be commented on...or mentioned in a blog.

Everyone looked really nice to be fair, and we all see each other in our usual office attire so it makes for a nice evening when everyone looks dressed up and gorgeous.

Of course by the end of the evening, there are some who get so drunk that what they started out in ends up around their waist...dodgy photos to be produced at blackmailing moment (joke)...and there are some who wear something so unbelievably tight that we can see what they had for breakfast.

In all honesty...it doesn't really matter. Talking to one colleague she quite rightly said that anyone should be able to feel that they can wear what they want, and express themselves in how they feel fitting. She is of course right. But there was a little part of me that simply looked at this person and thought...really?

Not because the dress was awful, but because it didn't do her any favours. She doesn't have a terrible figure, but the dress was like cling film which consequently accentuated everything, and I mean everything. Another size up and she would have probably looked gorgeous.

However, who am I to judge? I wore a dress that was too big so maybe people were looking at me for the same reason?

Nevertheless in great Hollywood style, the dresses of the evening were C's, a nice plum lace affair which made her look lovely, J and J's who looked much like twins but were very elegant, L who always looks effortlessly gorgeous and many others.

A really good evening was had by all...some more than others, but less said about that the better, I really wouldn't want to incriminate anyone more than I have.

Pleasure working with you guys...see you all next year I hope.

Being human...

Ok, it is official...I am frigging cold.

Not just on the odd occasion, all the blooming time. I am really feeling the chill in the winter air, around my nether regions and in my bones. Do you think this is an age thing? Am I able to ask the government to support me with my heating costs?

I have visions of me wrapped in a blanket, with one bar of heating on in my lounge and the door shut just so that I can keep the heating costs down and my body warm.

Ok, so things haven't quite reached that extreme, but I think I am the only one feeling it in my house. The hobbits are still wandering around in t-shirts at home while I have four layers and thermal underwear on!! Attractive bird me!

I went to our works Christmas do last night, so on the way home from picking the hobbits up from school we did the fish and chip shop run, purely for convenience.

Simply leaving the car and walking to the local chippy made me feel cold. The trouble is I can't seem to get warm again.

Thankfully there was a solution in the chip shop.

There are two chairs in our local chip shop, so I snuggled down in one with my scarf wrapped around my chin, trying to warm through.
"Come round this side and warm up," says our local chip shop man laughing at me, "you won't feel the cold behind here."
"Maybe not, but you'll make me work for the privilege." I said, hugging myself tighter.

At this point a woman of about 70 walks in, makes her order then seeing me sitting comes to join me. Inevitably, seeing my pathetic attempt at trying to stay warm she mentions the cold wind. We make polite conversation and she seems nice and friendly.
"I need body heat," I say, "you know like they do in extreme cold. All huddle together and keep warm."
"Cuddle up to me dear," she says.

So I do. She is warm and smells nice, like grannies should.

We probably sit like that for a few minutes chatting about her day, while the chip man shakes his head at me, smiles and prepares the hobbits order. Moments later another lady comes in and getting the gist of what is happening suggest that we all join up.

Can you imagine the headlines? Scandal...three generations of girl on girl action at the local chip shop?

Thankfully my order is ready, as I may have been a bit put out having to share my hot water bottle of a granny. However, it was nice just to be sitting there with her, shooting the breeze and getting to know people in the community.

We are all so busy, that there is a part of me that misses that feeling that the community know who you are and care about you. Ok, so the chip man knows me, and he knows that two out of three hobbits like fish and one like nuggets, and that they always have apple juice with their meal...but the old days when people really knew each other, and looked out for each other, whatever happened to that?

It is a British thing you know. Having lived in the Canaries for many years I immediately saw the difference on my return. The Canarians are incredibly warm and friendly people. Totally family orientated and will look out for you and the children if they are out.

The British (not all) are genuinely quite a distant bunch, and quite hard in their judgement...every mother here knows that if your child plays up in the supermarket what sort of looks we get from passers by. How many times have you exasperatedly said to your child for the millionth time, please don't do that, stay near the trolley, don't pick your nose, before losing it altogether at the moment someone walks past you and tuts at your impatience and disgusting behaviour to your child?

My hobbits played me up in a very big way the other day. They are of course excited about Christmas, tired from the school term...but everything I asked of them, they effectively stuck their fingers up at me.
Finally I lost it..."GET IN THE CAR NOW!!!! I AM LOSING THE WILL TO LIVE!!"
Consequently scaring the crap out of them.
At this point another mother I know from the school walks past and catches at me at my most vulnerable moment...a hobbit induced stress out.

She was actually quite nice, and as I apologised for my stress and alerted her to the bad mother award I was about to receive, she just shook her head.
"We are all doing it hun, don't think it is just you."

Thankfully someone who recognised that I wasn't just being a bitch, I was just at the end of my tether. Kids push, and push, and push...and sometimes we stay up...but on other occasions we topple. Doesn't make us bad people...it makes us human.

Love potions...

I recently went to a friends birthday party.

It was quite a big affair as she was celebrating a milestone for her so she was determined to do it in style. I have to say it was a really good evening, although I felt like one of the oldest people there.

Standing next to her in the ladies bathroom, I felt distinctly aged next to her. Partly because she is younger, gorgeous and I am ten years older than her. Hey ho.

Anyway, catching up with her today she has finally recovered from her momentous hangover, which in fact still saw her wearing her party outfit twenty four hours later...good girl.

In conversation we broached the subject of whether or not she was too drunk to funk...as it were...

"Good god no," she replied, "however I confess I don't remember a great deal."
"But you know you did?"
"Well, I was walking like John Wayne the next day...and I have got that feeling from using the you know..." She trailed off.
Ever the discreet person I looked at her directly, "No, what?"
She looked at me with a smile, "using love potions"
"Using what?" I exclaimed, nearly startling the sleeping baby in the back seat. "What on earth are love potions?"
She did at least have the decency to look a wee bit embarrassed, "You know, like playgel."
"Oh," I say, penny dropping...then, "Love potions? Really? Is that what you call them?"

At this point she confessed she hadn't called them that before, but it now seemed an appropriate thing to call them. The new love potion...by Durex, something the likes that Harry Potter has never seen before.

Sounds like Durex could be onto a good marketing tool here...

Feeling complete...

Seven sleeps till Christmas.

Which means just eight sleeps until my hobbits go off to Spain again.

Thankfully on this occasion they will be only gone for two weeks, and Spider-Man clarified with me yesterday that he is only going for twelve sleeps this time, which reassured me that they do want to come home to mummy at the end of it.

I suspect most people have organised their Christmas Day by now, and we have too.

Christmas Eve we will be tracking Santa's progress courtesy of NORAD, which we do every year, we are going to put out our mince pie and milk (I refuse to be responsible for Santa's drunken antics)...we always read The Night Before Christmas and lay reindeer dust on the lawn so that the flying reindeer know where to land.

Christmas Day this year will probably be less busy...nevertheless, we will wake up to our stockings, bacon sandwiches and Christmas shaped eggy bread. I am really looking forward to spending the day playing with the hobbits. It is all about them and I can not wait to just play games with them rather than the usual stress of entertaining and making sure some Spanish relative has really had enough to eat.

We will be up early Boxing Day as we have to be at the airport for 5am so that we have time to catch our flight. The boys are of course ultra excited about having two Christmas' and it will be nice to have a mini break from the stress of hobbit raising.

But as always, I will miss their presence in the house. The house and I may sulk again by day four or five...they may be noisy hobbits, but they are my noisy hobbits and they complete me.

My friend B...

My friend B is one clever little MILF!

She studies hard and gets results...she is working very hard towards her nursing, and because she is so clever get's A's in her exams and today will be putting in her essay which she has been working hard on like a very hardworking person for what seems like months.

The reason why she is different is because during this time, she has had probably more stress than other people...the loss of two friends, an arsehole of an ex trying to create more problems, all the stresses that come with those two issues and raising two great kids and running a home.

Yet, she still plods on and doesn't expect anything from anyone.

She is to be honest, a truly amazing individual...but don't tell her, cos I don't want it going to her head.

She is supportive, kind, loyal and honest. I am very honoured that she is my friend, and I just wanted to dedicate this blog to her.

B...you probably won't read this, as quite frankly you have enough on your plate at the moment, but if you ever do...you deserve everything. You are worthy of everything that will come your way with tinsel on!

I just know that you will meet that special someone, as someone as special as you deserves to be treated like cinder'f**king'rella! Well done you for being amazing on every level!

Looking forward to taking you out to celebrate xxx

Blog burden...

I can not believe what I am about to say...

My blog has become a burden.

I can not believe that I have come to this conclusion on a Sunday morning while sitting in bed, listening to the children kill each other downstairs.

I have always loved to write and have enjoyed my blog since day one, so why the change of heart?

A part of me has found it increasingly hard to write an entry every day that is worthy of being read let alone written...people don't want to read about the similar antics of the hobbits, day in day out. They want something new every time they open up the blog and they deserve something that is written with a light heart, not because I am forcing myself to write a blog.

When I write a blog that is being forced, like an idea of something that has no serious potential but is being written for writings sake, then the reader can tell. It doesn't flow right...It doesn't read like a conversation, or a general amusing piece of work.

What I hope when I write is that people read the blog as something I am saying to them over their breakfast, shooting the breeze over cornflakes or passing the time of day by the coffee machine...then it works. Then people can feel as though they are involved.

I am also a little perturbed by the way my blog is presenting itself on the page...and I can not work out how to readjust this problem. I like my blog to be spaced out, forced pauses, conversational material...alas it will not do what it is told. Which is frustrating me greatly. So I apologise.

If I don't write it's because I don't want you to read something that is badly written, uninteresting, unfunny and generally a load of old rubbish...there is a sense of pride in producing a well written blog, that I always feel and know when I publish one that is worthy of you reading it.

I hope that I can produce something that is worthy soon.

Help...

A question for you technical minded people out there... I have done something to my blog so that my writing is bunched up with no spaces...as you can see...what have I done? And more importantly, how do I undo it? Thanks

Pant police...

I am unsure why, however it has become Superman's job to check that everyone has pants on in the morning.

This morning, he physically went round ensuring that none of us were going commando to school and work...checking with a "yep, all good here. Clean pants on."

I am unsure as to where this dedication to our cleanliness and hygiene has transpired from, perhaps he has heard the old adage about wearing clean pants in case we are in an accident...or perhaps he is tired of not having clean pants to wear in the morning as his mother hasn't washed them in time.

Nevertheless, he has become a member of the 'pant police', and even asked to check mine this morning.

Or perhaps this is a future fetish of his that is already starting to manifest...answers on a postcard please.

Nagging...

I am being nagged....to blog.

Alas, I have had no inspiration lately.

My friends are either away, studying or held up at home with broken toes so it is just me and the hobbits.

I even had a text message from a friend complaining that he had nothing to read with his morning coffee and that I should find inspiration now! However, finding inspiration out of thin air is a bit like producing an orgasm by just thinking about it...it just don't happen baby.

So what have I done these last few days...

I have had a conversation with my friend about cloning willies and the suggestion that maybe we should clone a few and make a bowling game out of them...

I have ordered at least three Christmas presents, and with just two weeks to go till he big day I still have another 15 or so to buy...

I am sticking to my guns and refusing to buy Christmas cards...

I have argued with at least two people...

I have had a very enjoyable meal out with a friend...

I have done a lot of running around and had at least one poorly hobbit...

However none of these things make for a great blog...well, a not a very long one away..

So I apologise...I will get my thinking cap on; however if anyone sees me in the street, and has an idea I can manipulate and make my own...please feel free to stop me and tell me, so that I can be inspired once again.

Making memories...

I have lost my Christmas spirit this year.

I have looked for it, searched for it, even tried calling for it...but it hasn't replied and hasn't turned up on my door with as much as a mince pie.

I always love Christmas.

I am a big sucker for the whole package of Christmas celebrations, following Santa on NORAD and generally behaving like a small child with the excitement of it all. However, with just under three weeks to go no matter how many Christmas songs I sing, I still am just not feeling it.

I know I am not the only one.

I am not talking about the usual 'bah humbugs', but quite a few of my friends are really not feeling the love for Christmas this year, due to their own stresses, financial worries and for many, it being the first Christmas that they will be alone or alone with their children after a separation.

The first of anything after an emotional break up is hard, but Christmas of course comes with the memories of being with loved ones, of feeling content with life and of giving. Doesn't it?

For some of us that will still be true, but I have thought hard about this this morning, and in truth, the last few Christmas' have not been that joyous or fun from the company point of view, and anything that we did do that was fun was normally down to things I arranged and organised.

Whilst it is true that financially things are tighter than a ducks arse, and there won't be an abundance of presents under our hobbit decorated tree, it is also true that you don't need an excessive amount of presents and food to enjoy Christmas.

I do not want the hobbits to look back and see our first Christmas alone as a memory of sadness and misery, so I have to find a way to make it equally as special for them.

When I think back about what made my Christmas' special as a child it is the memories rather than the presents.

...The burnt hoof marks in the carpet proving that the reindeers had visited, the lines in the snow where the sledge had been and the personal notes from Santa.

So I am looking for my Christmas spirit in things that we do, rather than things that I buy. The hobbits and I will remember this Christmas as a time when we had a chance to play all day on new toys, that we went to the local pantomime and walked round to see all the decorations outside the houses.

It is up to me to make it special and make sure the hobbits enjoy and remember this year with affection when they look back years from now.

That our first Christmas on our own was the first of many fantastic Christmas' to come.

Para 'f**king' cetamol...

I have just spent the previous evening in the local accident and emergency department.

My friend J, has managed to do herself a mischief at the weekend and having got to Monday evening has decided she can not take the pain anymore.

Alas, her injury itself is not that exciting for a blog...no mishap with a razor, no strange insertions or dodgy positions...simply a suspected broken foot.

She can not even recall how she did it - although she was at the Brighton game on Saturday, so I suspect she kicked a Crystal Palace fan in the nuts during the rioting.

The only thing we can ascertain is that she was clubbing and dancing on Saturday night and when she woke up Sunday morning she could barely walk. So putting two and two together, the suggestion is that someone probably stood or stamped on her foot while she was getting down with the kids, or moshing in the pit with all the other youngsters.

After struggling around all day, I managed to convince her that going to hospital was the right idea as her foot was beginning to swell up and turn a rather nasty shade of black all down the right hand side.

Thankfully she agreed, hence the reason we spent the best part of five hours in A & E....in fact I am composing this blog from the discomfort of the waiting room, with her son's seriously decent headphones (got to get me some of these) while I wait for her to come out from seeing the doctor.

She has been triaged and x-rayed, stubbed her foot and sworn loudly...demanded attention like a sodding celebrity, asked for morphine when she was horrifyingly only offered paracetamol and in general behaved like a stroppy diva.

"Para'f**king'cetamol??? Is that the best they can offer? Don't they know I work for the NHS?"

I am ashamed to say that at one point I had to apologise to our fellow waiting people, when she swore her head off after banging her foot on the chair...I know, I know, she probably deserved sympathy, however she was doing something sneaky when she banged her foot and that was plugging in her mobile phone charger into the hospital plug behind the coffee machine....sheesh, you just can't take some people anywhere.

To be fair, she is in a lot of pain...and actually there is probably no one else for sense of humour that I would want to spend an evening of entertainment with at the local hospital...but boy is she milking it!

She has now requested a wheelchair so that she can go to the toilet which is just two bloody feet away...no photographs please, even though the paparazzi are probably waiting for her outside, all rushed away from Kate Middleton's hospital to camp outside ours.

She has also tried to mug a little old lady who was actually in a wheelchair, and looked about 95....and indignantly told her that her needs were greater.

I am just waiting for her to request an ambulance ride home and a hoist to complete the drama.

So we wait a little bit longer...and try and play 'Guess the injury/illness of the next person' just to stop us from going completely bonkers.

What is about hospitals that make you feel slightly insane as the evening wears on? Is it the dodgy coffee? The smelly people? The clock watching? Or the annoying child who keeps walking dangerously close to J's foot, and is seriously heading for a mouthful if he isn't careful....

Anyway, we are now coming up to our fifth hour here...ho hum...hopefully not much longer, or I may just need to find some drugs for me to get me through the evening.

A touch of madness...

I have just spent the afternoon and best part of the evening in the company of some wonderful friends.

We have been to see Madness in concert, who were absolutely excellent...I don't think we stopped dancing to the Nutty Boys in their hour and half set...and were privileged to be in a VIP box.

This means VIP lounge, drinks served in our box every fifteen minutes or so, and the ability to dance in our own private box without getting shoved around by thousands of others. Absolutely brilliant experience...I don't think I will go to another concert without VIP status again!

I have been exposed to the wonders that is the VIP treatment; no queuing, no waiting, space to dance and a chance to look at the poor people all moshing in the pit below us.

Thank you so much to J and C who treated me to such a fantastic day, finished off by eating a lot of pasta in order to soak up the copious amount of alcohol we had consumed.

I am now home relaxing my poor exhausted feet (supported all day by the purple DM's of course)....and feeling like a very lucky Wondering Woman.