Gappy goes to London (Cybermummy 2010)

The evening before Cybermummy I took a train for the first time in years to London Paddington. I approached the ticket office at my journeys starting point like an eager puppy, my huge bag swinging heavily against my legs as I heaved it off my shoulder. "I want to go to London" I said breathlessly to the man selling tickets from behind the glass partition. He was wearing what can only be described as an expression of monumental boredom, although I did also - I'm sure - see a slight look of alarm pass quickly over his face as he considered this shining eyed, slightly over excited woman in front of him. As he handed me my ticket however, accompanied by a gentle explanation as to how it also allowed me to travel on the tube, his features quickly settled back into their obviously familiar arrangement of weary indifference. He had, it seemed, come to the reassuring decision that I was merely a harmless imbecile as opposed to an unhinged, dirty great bag carrying, maximum security escapee.

I got to Paddington, took the tube to Waterloo - hot air blasting up in my face from the tunnels like a hairdryer - and from there made my way on foot down to the South Bank. The atmosphere was like a carnival. The evening sun was still shining, the enormous ferris wheel that is the London Eye loomed excitingly up ahead and there were happy, relaxed looking people outside all the cafes and pubs celebrating the end of the working week. I walked across the road towards the little food market where an old friend of mine has a stall selling fairly traded olive oil and spices. All the smells mingled into one delicious warm spicy bready aroma as I tried to count how many different languages I could hear being spoken. Somewhere in the distance a small brass band was playing some New Orleans style jazz music and it all just seemed to me in that moment to be as perfect a city scene as one could ever hope for. I hung about the market for a while then helped my friend to pack up her stall. As the sun began to dim we made our way slowly back to the to the small flat that she shares with her Palestinian husband and baby son.

The next morning I was awake before the baby. Butterflies flitting in my stomach, I showered, dressed and made a cup of tea. My friend got up bleary eyed to see me off and I hugged her tightly goodbye before heading out in the morning sun to the tube station and hopping on the eastward bound Piccadilly line to Earls Court. A short walk from there to the Ibis Hotel and that was it. No going back, no running for the hills. Cybermummy had officially begun.

It was all very much in stark contrast to the slightly bohemian, international feel of the South Bank the night before. Every credit to the women who had obviously worked incredibly hard to bring it all together - it was without doubt extremely well organised. It looked smart and professional, everything happened when it was supposed to, the food was good and the time-table was clear. The freebies were plentiful and the PR's and company representatives were out in force. It was..... slick.

I however am not slick and if I'm honest the blatant commercialism bothered me. I don't have a view on what anyone else chooses to do on their own blog - it is their space and their business and we are all free to take from blogging what we will - but I personally don't like having people try to sell me shit, and I'm not interested in being used to sell shit for other people either. There are obviously many cynical company big-wigs out there who feel that mummy bloggers are a prime market for milking - there was even a babies bottle in our swag bags - and for me that side of things just left a slightly off taste in the mouth.

I have also never been required to 'network' before. Turns out I'm shit at it. I met some lovely lovely people but they were mostly people with whom I had made a virtual connection anyway and so already felt some affinity with. My poor blue 'business' cards were left sadly redundant as I discovered that I couldn't quite bring myself to press them onto people I had had no contact whatsoever with other than a two minute schmooze over a cupcake. I think in Twitter speak that that could possibly be referred to as a #putyourselfouttherefail. Ah well. I was clearly never destined to be an internet rock star anyway.

No. The highlight of the day by far in my opinion was listening to blog posts being read out by the authors themselves. There is something incredibly moving about hearing a blogger read their own post in their own way, using their own emphasis, their own meaningful pauses, and their own real emotion. Even posts that I had read before in their published form and so recognised straight away came strangely alive for me when I heard them spoken out loud by the women who had written them. It gave a real glimpse into the wealth of talent that is out there in the blogosphere and it was at this part in the proceedings more than any other that I felt a genuine kinship with my fellow women bloggers. Real womens lives and real womens experiences were laid bare with such beauty and raw honesty and I was struck by the strength of my response. We have so much more in common than we often think.

What else? Well.. I also discovered that I am a veritable platinum mine of information when it comes to the all important subject of the lyrics of pop songs released from the nineteen eighties onwards. My fellow pub quizzers were gasping in what I imagined was, ahem... sheer admiration at my recognition of the poetic talents of the likes of JLS, Luther Vandross and Kylie. Um... I also won a prize. Oh, and there is now a picture of my (clothed) arse on Tara Cains blog for anyone who's interested.

Bang go the last vestiges of my anonymity ;-)

The Bad Mummy Moments Carnival Goes Live!

So here we are! I am quite excited to be finally presenting the Bad Mummy Moments Carnival in all its (gory) glory. A huge thank you to everyone who has participated and submitted a post - it's been so enjoyable reading them all and I have also managed to discover some really fantastic new blogs in the process. Sooo without further ado, I reckon we'll start.

First up we have How to be a consistent single parent or not by Slummy Single Mummy. I loved this post. It was really funny but it also touched on stuff that I think a lot of parents sometimes worry about. After all is it really possible for anybody to ever be 100% consistent?

Next is Notes From Home with Coping with four children under six. I have to say that although parts of this post made me laugh out loud (fake poo is always going to be a winner for me) I actually felt like lying down in a darkened room after reading it. This is one brave woman.

Then we've got Travels With my Nine Year Old and her post, Age Appropriate Reading. MummyT tells her 'cringy conversation with your child' story with style and aplomb.

Next up we have Bloggertropolis and his post Dropping the Baby. I think almost every parent can tell a similar story to this one. I've certainly experienced one or two of those heart in the mouth moments with my children and can remember feeling sick for the rest of the day. Horrible.

Notes From Lapland is next with her hilarious post I am a Stick. I could completely relate to this one too. In fact I would go so far as to say that I am the master of having entire conversations with my children while nine tenths of my brain is actually focused on something else entirely.

Next is New Mummy with her post which is actually called Bad Mummy Moment. It is a good example of how we can let a genuinely innocent mistake make us feel unnecessarily guilty, even when we know logically that it isn't our fault.

Then we have The Babbling Mummy and her post (which also made me laugh out loud) Mummy I'm Thirsty. If you fancy a giggle and you have a strong stomach, then this is the post for you.

I remembered this post by It's a Small World After All from when it was first published. I loved it then and I love it now. I just think her children sound so ace. Click here for On Mice Ice-rinks and Sweeping Chimneys. You will find all sorts of ideas for games to keep your little ones amused!

Now Mommy Has a Headache is my kind of woman. Read her post Ahoy There Matey! on how to throw a kids birthday party without having a nervous breakdown (hopefully.) Also, I know strictly speaking that this poem hasn't anything to do with the theme of my carnival - MHAH didn't ask to submit it either - but I read this poem on her blog and it is so bloody brilliant that I'm just going to have to include a link to it here. Do yourselves a favour and read THIS. I'm going to give it to my daughter to read when she comes of age.

Next up is Tiddlyompompom with her post: Tiddlyompompom thinks it's time to change her ways. Read this post for some refreshing role reversal.

Frugal Family next with her post about swapping her child with someone elses in the supermarket (Ha! says a smug Gappy - at least I've never done that. Ahem... I think...) Read What's the Most Embarrassing Thing You Have Done as a Parent here.

Then we have TattieWeasle and Mummy are you a Saint (or why I will never be canonised) All I can say is Hahahahahahahaha! If all else fails, threaten them with dog poo.

The next post is a more serious one - This Parenting Lark isn't too Easy from Mummy From the Heart. It certainly isn't. I found this post so touching. What a hard time we give ourselves for not being perfect.

Next up is Babyrambles with her post If Supernanny Spent the Day in my House. If Supernanny spent the day in my house she'd be needing her smelling salts and a stiff gin before we'd even got so far as to set the table for lunch.

A Muse Inner Me next. Her post, Creme de la Creme aka Bad Mummy Moments comes complete with photographic evidence of what can happen when you leave a toddler alone with a full pot of sudocreme (clue: it's very funny as long as it's not happening to you.)

Then we have Alex Late Enough with her post My Day in Bullets and it's Not Over Yet. A crappy day condensed into bullet point form. Genius. Next time I have a crappy day, I'm going to try that.

Bare Naked Mummy next with a post that had me nodding vigorously in agreement: I'm Not an Alpha-Mummy and I Don't Care. Amen to that sister.

The next post is from Pants With Names. It's actually from her Brits In Bosnia archives and is entitled A Mistress of Spin. The post skillfully shows how what sort of mother you are perceived to be can be "all in the presentation." Tsk. These so called uber mummys - all style over substance you know.

Typecast is next with her post Buzzing. This post was a valuable insight for me into what it might be like for a child to experience ADHD, which is something I know very little about.

Our penultimate post is from Rosie Scribble with her piece entitled A Bad Mummy Moment or Two. What is it about children and bookshops eh?

Last but definitely not least we have Musings of a Mother with her fantastic post How Many Council Workers Does it Take to Dig Out a Stupid Mummy? What can I say except read this post. It will make you laugh and laugh (and shake your head a bit) and then laugh some more. I do declare MOAM the winner of the Bad Mummy Moments Carnival with this legendary post. She is to wear a virtual tiara for the rest of the month and shall be receiving a special prize in the next week or two.

Anyway thanks again to everyone who has participated in the Bad Mummy Moments Carnival. I have laughed and I have cried, and now I think that I'd better go and tackle my laundry mountain so that my children might actually have some clean clothes to wear tomorrow. xxx

An Award and a Mini Interview

I have been sent this award by the lovely and inspiring Technobabe. I rather love the picture, but that is not really the point. The point is that Technobabe gave it to me. I'm chuffed because she is - in my opinion - a very fine blogger. Although I have never met her (she lives somewhere in middle America) we have over the last few months developed the sort of unique connection that comes from reading and commenting regularly on someone elses blog and having them do the same on yours. Funny, isn't it, how you can never have met someone and yet feel you in some way know them.... Anyway, the first post of hers that I ever read was this one. I was blown away by it and I think it's fairly safe to say that I was hooked from that point on. Go and check it out. It will make you laugh and cry simultaneously, which is a rare thing.

Along with the award also came a set of questions - a mini interview if you like. Here they are complete with my answers for anyone who's interested:


Q.1: If you blog anonymously, are you happy doing it that way? If you are not anonymous do you wish you had started out anonymously so you could be anonymous now?

A: My blog is anonymous(ish.) I was completely anonymous when I started - and still the vast majority of my friends and family do not know that I write a blog. A few people know that I write one but do not know where to find it, which leaves just two people in my life who have read it - one with my permission - one without. I much prefer anonymity. I've heard other bloggers say that it's best to write as if everyone you know was reading, but if I did that I'd never write a thing!

Q.2: Describe one incident that shows your stubborn side.

A: I don't really think that I am particularly stubborn (although I am now imagining my mother shouting, "Ooh Gappy, may you be forgiven!" at her computer screen.) I was fairly recalcitrant as a child by all accounts, but I think that I have mellowed and become far more given to compromise as I've got older. I don't know - I suppose you'd have to ask the people who actually have to deal with me on a regular basis!

Q.3: What do you see when you really look at yourself in the mirror?

A: Bloody hell. I'm going to have to take this question literally I think, because any other way just makes my brain hurt. Um... o.k. Well... I see a youngish looking woman with long wavy reddish hair, fair skin and grey eyes. She's slim and about 5foot 4inches tall, and is often sporting a slightly dishevelled, tired look. I call it the 'Vaguely Harassed Mum of Three.'

Q.4: What is your favourite summer cold drink?

A: Anything fizzy. I like to mix fruit juice with sparkling mineral water, or sometimes I buy Schloer which is kind of a poor womans Aqua Libra. I love Aqua Libra but can never seem to find it anymore. Does that make me sound a bit Waitrose?

Q.5: When you take time for yourself, what do you do?

A: I blog. Blogging is my 'me' thing. I also like to read novels although I have done far less of that since I discovered blogging, which for some reason makes me feel slightly guilty. About four times a year I go to a place called Hay-on-Wye for the day. It is the second hand bookshop capital of the world and you could safely say that it was my special place - my Mecca if you like. I wrote a post about it complete with photos a while back. You can find it here.

Q.6: Is there something you still want to accomplish in your life? What is it?

A: This one's easy. My goal at the moment is financial independence. Independence from the state and independence from any future potential partner. I want to have a job that earns enough that I can support myself and my family reasonably comfortably and that ideally allows us to move to a house that is big enough for our needs (at the moment, my daughter and I have to share a bedroom.)

Q.7: When you attended school, were you the class clown, the class overachiever, the class shy person, or always ditching school? Describe who you were if you were not one of these.

A: I think it would probably be fair to say that I was an underachiever. I was academically very able, but ultimately did not put the work in. By the time I was fourteen or so, I was a chronic and persistent truant. I'll never forget the feeling of elation that went with the realisation that nobody could actually make me go to school. I used to leave the house in the morning wearing my school uniform, but with my normal clothes in my school bag instead of my books. I'd walk to my friends house, get changed, and we'd spend the day smoking packets of ten Silk Cut under the underpass near her house. Happy days.

Q.8: If you close your eyes and want to visualise a very poignant moment in your life, what do you see?

A: I see green hills all around. I am standing beneath an Ash tree with my feet feeling as though they had taken root in the ground. Enormous contractions are sweeping through my body. I am giving birth to my second son.

Q.9: Is it easy for you to share your true self in your blog or are you more comfortable writing posts about other people or events?

A: Being anonymous certainly makes it easier for me to share more of my true self in my blog, although I tend to write a mixture of different kinds of posts. I have found that what I write about chops and changes a lot. When I first started blogging, my posts were mostly a mixture of what I hoped were humorous anecdotes about my life and my children, and more serious pieces about being a mother. But I have also found through blogging that I enjoy writing social commentary and I think that a lot of my posts now have that element, often with a feminist slant. I suppose that lately though, my blog has tended towards the more confessional. The really personal posts can be harder to write I find, but they are certainly very cathartic to get out there. I would never want the personal stuff to become the sole focus though - I like to mix it up a bit.

Q.10: If you had the choice to sit and read or talk on the phone, which would you do and why?

A: That would depend totally on my mood. I have one friend in particular who I tend to spend at least an hour on the phone to - although I do tend to multi-task whilst on the phone, even sometimes idly surfing the net whilst talking (naughty I know.) But then again I do love to curl up with a good book too. Could this question be interpreted as one that was really asking whether someone was an extrovert or an introvert? I'm an extrovert with introverted tendencies I think. Although I could be an introvert with extrovert tendencies.... Sigh. Self obsessed? Moi?


Next I have to pass on the award to five other bloggers. So here goes...

Jana from An Attitude Adjustment
Ellie from One Crafty Mother
Jo from Slummy Single Mummy
Liz from But Then I Had Kids

And my mate Victoria aka MODERN DILEMMA

Your mission, should you choose to accept it is to answer these ten questions about yourselves:

Q.1. Inspired by Technobabes last question: Would you describe yourself as an introvert or an extrovert?
Q.2. What is your opinion on reality television?
Q.3. Do you have any phobias?
Q.4. What first attracted you to blogging?
Q.5. Can you name a famous person that you despise and say why?
Q.6. What is your most treasured possession?
Q.7. If you could have any skill in the world, what would it be?
Q.8. What is your favourite novel?
Q.9. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Q.10. Which is your favourite season and why?

Happy blogging. x

Seven Things You Didn't Know About Me.

I have been tagged by the lovely A Small Hand in Mine to receive the Kreativ Blogger award. Very pretty it is too - just the sort of thing a girl wants in her sidebar. The idea seems to be that you list seven things about yourself that you have not previously divulged on your blog, and that you then of course pass it on. So here goes....


1. I have a tattoo on my head. You can't see it because I have long hair and to be honest I forget it's there most of the time - that is until I go to a new hairdressers and see them do a complete double take. The reaction is always something along the lines of, 'Oh my god, you're the last person that I would have expected to have a tattoo on their head!' I'm never quite sure how to take that.

2. I'm quite handy. I can put up a mean shelf, and in fact I built a whole book case at the top of our stairs myself. I have a really impressive tool box full of my late grandfathers ancient old tools and I love a bit of flat pack.

3. I'm a typical Virgo which always strikes me as being rather ironic seeing as I don't believe that when you happen to have been born has any bearing whatsoever on your personality. But even I can't deny my own perfectionism and liking for things to be in order. My books are grouped into sections and the fiction section is in alphabetical order for christs sakes. Friends over the years have found this anally retentive aspect to my nature completely hilarious - even my own mother takes the piss - which is rich coming from her because she's exactly the same!

4. I like driving really fast. In another life I would have been a formula one driver. Lewis Hamilton would have been eating my dust.

5. I have absolutely no sense of direction and have even been known to get lost in peoples houses. Perhaps it's a spatial awareness thing because I once did one of those IQ tests - you know the ones with the little puzzles you have to solve - and my eventual score suggested that I was of subnormal intelligence.

6. I have recently been reunited with my best friend from when I was a teenager, through facebook of all things. Even though it is now many years later, we still share a real connection. We have met up a few times now and I'm absolutely thrilled to have her back in my life.

7. I'm scared of horses. They're far too big.


So with that it is now time for me to tag seven other bloggers whom I would like to get to know better. Would you like a Kreativ Blogger award?

Paula from Battling On
Very Bored in Catalunya
Stephen from Bloggertropolis
Heather from Notes From Lapland
Julia at What Will Julia do Next?
Sandrine at Paris-Ankara Express
Newdaynewlesson

The Grumpy Seven

I have recently been tagged with a little gem of a meme by Very Bored in Catalunya. See it turns out this week that not only is she bored in Catalunya, she's grumpy too. She's fed up, she's pissed off and she's running out of patience. She's Crabby in Catalunya. But, on the positive side, out of the ashes of said crabbyness has risen this most awesome phoenix of an entirely new meme: 'How's your blood pressure? 7 things this week that have made me grumpy' So I say thank you lady, for this is my kind of meme. In fact I could just run and run with it - so without further ado - I'll begin shall I?


1. Bin Weevils.

The entire population of 8 - 12 year olds that inhabit our village seem to share an unhealthy obsession with Binweevils (this of course has nothing whatsoever in common with my entirely constructive obsession with Twitter.) Eldest Son - I kid you not - has even gone so far as to organise a Bin Weevils phone tree so that he and his classmates can synchronise their Bin Weeviling. As far as I can tell, how it seems to work is that he phones one friend and hisses urgently, 'Bin Weevils - 5 o'clock o.k?' down the receiver like some sort of double agent from the cold war era, at which point said friend hangs up and then phones the next friend in order to issue the same stage whispered instruction to them - and so on and so on - untill the whole of year bloody 6 arrive on line en masse in order to do whatever the hell it is Bin Weevils do. What do Bin Weevils do? It had better be good.

2. Computer Games in General (or more specifically, talking about them.)

Because actually it's not just Bin Weevils that can sometimes make me grumpy. It's not even just computer games in and of themselves. It's the fact that my sons want to talk to me about them all the time. They are constantly attempting to engage me in conversation about things like Bin Weevils and Club Penguin - things of which I know nothing, and of which I frankly couldn't give a flying toss either. The thing is they're sneaky about it too. Conversations will start off as one thing and then morph into a computer game conversation without me even realising. For example:

Eldest Son: Mum can I talk to you about something?
Me: (In the middle of the washing up) Sure, what's up?
Eldest Son: Well... have you ever been in a situation where you're friends with a certain group of people, but you think maybe you don't really trust them and you'd be better off with a different group of friends?
Me: (Taking off washing up gloves and sitting down next to him in order to give him my full attention) Is something worrying you love?
Eldest Son: Well what it is you see, is that I was really good friends with this one group, but then just because I wanted to play for a bit with a different group, they shot me.
Me: They shot you? Hang on a minute.... is this about that flipping computer game?
Eldest Son: (Grinning) Um, might be....

3. Being spoken to entirely in Doctor Who quotes

Middle son is obsessed with Doctor Who. (You may recall a previous post I wrote about a suspiciously phallic looking tardis that he drew and then stuck on the fridge.) He also possesses a memory akin to a small elephant. Entire scripts from countless episodes are lodged firmly in that freaky little head of his, only to come tumbling out of his mouth at every possible opportunity. Middle son no longer says hello to people. His standard greeting has become, 'Alonzeeeeeee!' I have no idea what that even means. It could be Dalek for 'bestiality is best' for all I know. He now also has a Doctor Who quote which he saves especially for whenever he is asked to do anything he doesn't want to do, or for when I attempt to cajole him into eating anything that far too closely resembles a plant for his liking. The conversation typically goes something like this:

Me: Please would you go upstairs and sort out your toybox so that we can give things you don't play with anymore to the charity shop?/Please will you just try your runner beans?
Middle son: Funny is like this! (manic grinning face.) Not funny is like this.. (exageratedly sad face.) Right now I'm not like this! (manic grinning face) I'm like this.. (exageratedly sad face) because YOU ARE TRAITORS! YES YOU ARE!

What are you supposed to say to that?

4. Chris Moyles.

'Nuff said.

5. Jeremy Clarkson.

Ditto.

Oooh I was so close to moving on to number six without comment then... I almost managed it. But not quite. Because I can't even think about his stupid, dad rock loving, global warming denying, crap joke about how murdering prostitutes is funny telling face, without wanting to spit. Better out than in though eh. Ahem... Moving swiftly on...

6. People trying to have a conversation with me while I'm on the loo

Through the bathroom door. It's bad enough that the children do it, but I've got a friend that does it aswell. For christs sake, is nothing sacred?

And lastly, rather than a seventh grump, I thought I might instead provide a fool-proof antidote to all of the things that can conspire to put us in a bad temper. May I suggest that you listen to 'The Heartbeat Song' by the Futureheads and jump around. It works for me.


So now to invite some others to share their miffs of the week. You're up girls... Enjoy.

Modern Dilemma
Vegemitevix
Becky at Single Mummy
Last of the Mojitos
Notes From Lapland

Happiness MeMe

I have been tagged by the marvellous Modern Dilemma. If you haven't checked out her blog yet, then you should, because she's really good and I like her. She eats biscuits called de-stroppers (well, they're almost called that) and that's my kinda woman. Since beginning this post I have also discovered that the very lovely Last of the Mojitos has tagged me with the exact same meme. Who'd have thought? I would urge you to check out her blog aswell as she is also dead good, and I like her lots too. She and I share a dislike of people who sit in the over-taking lane on the motorway. That alone is good enough for me.

Anyway they have challenged me to list ten things that make me happy. TEN. And not just things that make me generally happy either. Ten things that made me happy today. I have spent ages agonising over this, and have come to the only conclusion possible - that I am a miserable fucker. I am however a miserable fucker who is usually up for a challenge, so I'm off to find me a barrel or two to scrape, and I shall be back soon....


Right, here goes. Today I enjoyed:

1. Listening and singing along to loud music in my car. Specifically (hangs head in shame) Lady Gaga and Beyonces one, you know... 'tonight I'm not takin no calls cos I'll be dancin'... Yep, my blog's anonymous for a reason, see?

2. Complaining. When I'm not working for Naked Boss, I work for Womens Aid. You might have thought that being as my colleagues and I work for a feminist organisation, we would transcend all the stereotypical notions of what large groups of women working together might be like. Well you would be wrong. We bitched and whined and gossiped our way through yet another stressful day with the utmost gusto. It was great.

3. Wild red salmon and cucumber sandwiches from M&S. Yum. This makes me sound an awful lot posher than I actually am by the way.

4. Mr S taking all the children, including the one that isn't his, out swimming and then onto a cafe for dinner afterwards. And not bringing them back until bedtime. I realise this may sound callous, but a woman needs a bit of time to herself you know?

5. Publishing interesting and engaging comments from bloggers that I respect as being really very good, on my last post (and of course on other posts too.) Yippee. It's nice when the people whose stuff you like seem to like your stuff too.

6. Knowing that my hair is clean, and that I do not have to wash it either tonight or in the morning. I realise this may seem like I am taking the concept of barrel scraping to a whole new level but I really hate washing my hair, and the knowledge that I don't have to do it for another a day or so is always a cause for celebration.

7. Spring being almost here. I know everyone's said this - but a glimpse of sunshine and daffodils really does improve ones mood.

8. O.k. I really am running out of steam now. What to write, what to write..... (Gappy stares wild eyed around the 'office' in vague hopes of some inspiration...) Ha! I know! Looking at my stats and seeing that I have a reader from Wichita, Kansas. Wichita may just be the most fabulous sound that a mouth can make, plus I love that Glen Campbell song and it starts on a pleasant loop inside my head whenever I see the Wichita reader in my visitor paths. Hmm. Now I am all: perhaps I have far too much time on my hands, but whatever. Reader from Wichita - you make my day.

9. The fact that the Easter holidays are fast approaching - I am looking forward to nearly three weeks break from the old routine and to visiting friends and making merry.

10. O.k. When my kids came back from the swimming pool and the cafe. It was past The Youngests bedtime and she was half asleep in her dads arms, but when she saw me she smiled, reached out for me and said 'Mumeeeeeeee'. Middle Son leapt into my arms and hugged my neck. Even The Eldest - who is far too within sniffing distance of becoming a teenager for such ebullient displays of affection - sidled up to me and happily submitted to a ruffle of the hair and a kiss hello on the forehead. I took The Youngest straight up to bed, put her in her pyjamas and tucked her up with her favourite toy fluffy cat. She lay with her beautiful curls splayed out over the pillow and her 'Catty' in her arms, her eyes involuntarily closing despite her best efforts to keep them open. I looked at the perfect skin on her cheek and kissed it good night. Sleepily, almost imperceptibly then she said, 'Meeow'.

Sometimes my cup really does runneth over after all.


So with this I now tag:

Brits in Bosnia
An Attitude Adjustment
Eternally Distracted
Spilt Milk
Nova

Dear So and So... Get it off Your Chest 2

It's that time of the month again. That time when all my bottled up frustration and suppressed annoyance coagulates and multiplies in my stomach until I can hold it in no more, and it finally, gloriously, spews forth like ectoplasm. Yep, it's time for:

Dear Farm Traffic Leader,

I just want you to know that I am on to you. I have a theory that I have been working on for some time now. It goes something like this: That every lumbering, foul smelling vehicle and its driver are in fact part of an evil masonic conspiracy intent on world domination, and that this malevolent network of tractors and the like is closely involved in monitoring my habits, routines, and movements and then communicating them to each other via Evil Farm Traffic Network radio, in the interests of ensuring that one of your kind is always directly in front of me going at about 3 miles per hour whenever I need to actually get anywhere within the next five hours. Why why why? I'm innocent can't you see? I'm simply an ordinary woman on a mission, who happens to be bloody late again.

Yours with a creeping sense of paranoia, Gappy.



Dear Nessa (she of the Gavin and Stacey fame),

There is, so I'm told, to be a general election soon. Have you considered putting yourself up for the job of Prime Minister? Because any woman who drives an articulated lorry with shooting flames down the side is sure to get my vote.

P.S. I think I may possibly be a little bit in love with you,

Gappy.



Dear Naked Boss,

Just when I think that you may have surpassed even yourself in terms of cretinous creepiness, you just have to go that extra mile and prove me wrong don't you? Your latest conceptual leap involving the logic that only a radical feminist could possibly object to your inappropriate comments and uninvited back rubs, and that I can't be one of those because my daughter owns a pink scooter, has left me feeling baffled to say the least. I mean jesus, I applied moisturiser this morning. Perhaps you now feel it wise that I seriously reconsider whether or not I should be entitled to vote?

You know, I would tell you to shove your job up your arse, but I suspect you'd only take it as a come on.

Gappy.



Dear Joke Book belonging to Middle Son,

Do you think there is any chance at all that you could find your way discreetly into the re-cycling bin? Because there's a limit to how much crap jokery any woman can take you know. If I have to spend one more afternoon being trailed by a six year old asking me repeatedly where astronaut cows go, and then laughing until he gags every time he manages to squeak out the punchline (the moooooon of course) I may just finally lose the will to live.

Q: What do you call a woman who's just about ready to shoot herself? A: Gappy.



Dear So and So Boat,

Why am I always just missing you? Is it that other more organised bloggers have their Dear So and So's ready and waiting in their drafts, so that when you are first spotted on the horizon, they can immediately rush to the shore and anchor their link before Kat has moved on entirely and published a new post? Or sailed a new ship? Do I have any bloody idea where I'm going with this metaphor? No, I don't. But in the meantime, it would seem that I have missed you once again.

Yours, forever destined to trail behind confusedly,

Gappy.


And breathe....

If you would like to have yourself a go at a Dear So and So (sooo much cheaper than therapy) then head on over to Kats 3 Bedroom Bungalow where you can get your widget and post your link.

Dear So and So... Get it off Your Chest.

I have been enjoying the Dear So and So's over at Brits in Bosnia for a while now, and only today realised that they are in fact linked to a tag/writing exercise (not entirely sure what to call it) set over at Kats 3 Bedroom Bungalow, and that anybody can join in, (doh, not terribly observant you see). Oooh goody, I thought when all became clear. Rants are the one thing that I'm never short of, I shall have a go at that. So here it is, my first Dear So and So:

Dear Socks,

Where do you go to my lovelies? And why is it always just one out of every pair that disappears? Do you have a special hiding place where you can be found giggling hysterically every time one of the children shouts downstairs, ten seconds before we're due to leave the house, 'Muuum, none of my socks are the same!'

Come out come out wherever you are, because I'm in danger of going slowly demented.

Here's to pairs and all things that match, Gappy.



Dear Local Policeman,

I would like you to look deep inside your soul and tell me whether you honestly think it's justifiable to slam me with a 60 quid fine and three points on my licence for doing just six miles per hour over the speed limit. It's bad timing see? I have just had to shell out for two new tyres and my M.O.T. is coming up soon too. I am literally up to the eyeballs in crap-car-related-money-eating-stuff, and I could do without it, that's all.

By the way, did you know that domestic abuse accounts for 25% of all reported violent crime in the U.K. because duh, you're a policeman and you bloody well should. Perhaps if you put half as much effort into reducing that nasty little statistic as you do into persecuting people like myself in the interests of getting an easy result, then you might possibly find your yearly stats improving, aswell as your karma. Just a suggestion,

Yours in crap-car-related-poverty, Gappy.



Dear Brain,

Any chance we could perhaps hurry things along a little bit? We've an awful lot of stuff to do, and I'd like to get this posted sometime today.

Cheers, The rest of me.


Dear Snooty County Council Receptionist,

Yes, I know I have received two parking tickets in the space of a month from the same car park. Do you suppose it's really necessary to point this out to me (and the rest of the queue) in quite such a snooty manner? Your eyebrows really are in danger of disappearing into your hairline. Why the indignation? Myself and my colleagues have been asking for yearly passes for said car park untill we're blue in the face, but county council official bod - he say no. I am in fact thinking of taking up permanent residence on this very buildings roof, wearing a stupid costume and carrying a banner pointing out that this same county council official bod authorised the spending of 20 thousand pounds on repainting the towns main road, only to dig it up for repairs three months later. So perhaps you could stop looking at me like you're sucking a wasp and tell your boss to just GIVE ME THE FRIGGING PASS O.K?

Also perhaps you might like to ask that incredibly enthusiastically keen car park warden of yours if he would like a poke in the eye? You may even like one yourself.

Gappy.


Dear Veruca on Middle Sons toe,

Would you mind kindly pissing off now, before I am reduced to buying shares in Bazuka? The whole 'bazuka that veruca' thing was only funny for about two seconds, and frankly filing you down with that little emery board thingy makes me gip.

Yours, in anticipation of being able to go swimming at some point in the future, Gappy.


P.S.

Dear Technorati,

Here is your proof that I am not some evil spamming genius: BAMC4H44DZ85

Yours, forever in the hope of one day finally figuring out what the hell SEO actually means, Gappy.



And breathe..... Just like Fraught Mummy said: Better than therapy. Much cheaper too.

Sunshine Awards

If you care to have a little look in my sidebar (oh and of course below) you will find a lovely sunshiney award sitting there. Very pleased with it I am too. I feel happy and proud to have received it, plus I absolutely love the picture. It reminds me of things like going on holiday and sitting in the park all day with friends. So I would like to say a big thank you to Fraught mummy from Brits in Bosnia and Working Mama from the Last of the Mojitos for awarding it to me. They are both very lovely and if you haven't read their blogs yet, then you should do yourself a favour and head on over to their sites.


See? What's not to love about that picture? Now I believe it is time to pass on the sunshine to some other bloggers. Unfortunately I don't know who's got what, so if you already have this award, then you'll just have to think of it as extra sunshine in reserve... or something. So come on down and have your speeches ready:

Spilt Milk
An Attitude Adjustment
Sleep is for the Weak
Not Waving but Ironing
Mon Avis Mes Amis
Noble Savage (also the author of Fertile Feminism)
Modern Dilemma

Shiny Happy Things

I received my first tag the other day. Can you remember how it feels to receive your first tag, all you veteran bloggers out there? It's very exciting.

The tag was sent to me by Working Mama from the Last of the Mojitos (I've said it before but I'm saying it again - quite possibly the best name for a blog ever). It is the Shiny Happy Things tag. The idea is that you think of something that never fails to put a smile on your face, then write a blog post about it.

After a couple of days spent scratching my head (bloody headlice - only joking) I have come up with a list of a few things, and I thought that rather than choosing just one of them, which was proving too difficult, I would write about all of them. In a list like stylee. So here goes:

1. A Cup of Tea.

Ah yes, that fine British panacea, the cup of tea. It soothes, it aids the flow of conversation, it signifies five minutes of precious peace. I like mine with milk and two sugars. Which could possibly be why all my teeth are falling out.

2. Dolly Parton.

I love a bit of Dolly. It's not the music so much (although she does have a fine voice), it's her specifically. She is funny, self deprecating, and as sharp as a razor. She's also a socialist, for anyone who's interested. The exact moment I fell in love with Ms Parton was when I was watching a televised live performance, in which one soppy male audience member shouted, 'I love you Dolly!' The woman didn't miss a beat. She shouted back, 'I thought I told you to stay in the back of the truck!' Now whenever I am faced with a tricky moral dilemma or an important life decision, I ask myself, what would Dolly do?

3. Total Wipeout

For months, this programme was the highlight of my families week. Presented by Richard Hamilton of Top Gear fame, what it is essentially is an inflatable assault course on water, which various contestants have to try to complete in the best time possible. Only the assaults(?) are really good. There is one which is basically huge inflatable balls on the end of bendy sticks, that stick up in a row out of the water, and gradually reduce in height. The idea is that the contestant jumps from a platform onto the first one, and then tries to bounce on to the next one, and so on and so on. Watching people dressed in spandex and red life jackets rebound helplessly off huge inflatable balls is extremely funny. My children and I are generally rolling around on the floor, completely hysterical by the end, which I fear says something about me that I'd probably rather not dwell on.

So those were my three things. I now need to lie down in a darkened room in order to recover from being suddenly faced with just how high-brow I really am.

I believe that tag etiquette now dictates that I choose five people whose blogs I like, to pass this tag on to. So come on down:

Not waving but ironing
Slightly south of sanity
Noble Savage
Oh the joys
Notes to self plus two

Will look forward to sharing in your shiny happy things.....