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.