2021 - The blog with no name

I think I have already established I am NOT that mum, I have a husband for the kid stuff but in the spirit of working a job where some of the school holidays are mandatory... I have resorted to pinterest to help me be a better mum.... (lets not kid ourselves people)  and again because clearly SPIRIT is my word of the week Imma gonna document the next two weeks of HELL (typo clearly I mean fun)  I'll start off with the fact that technically the demon child finished school on 08/04 for Easter at 3pm... I deliberately strung out my last moments of work until she demanded PIZZA Friday (which for a kid who refused to bloody eat pizza until she started school is irritating as fuck) I will give her credit in the fact that for her 5th birthday she chose the pox over covid which meant the super fun soft play party that her best friend (daddy) paid for was delayed... fast forward a month ER MER GERD parties that cost (daddy) a lot of money are worth it... I made polite parental chat and...

There are many reasons I have not updated this blog - the main being that by the end of a teaching and apparently boss role day, that I have to come home and parent - which I'm not so good at and then I have to feed the people in my house (mum you don't need to input here you will get your credit later on) and then find the effort to carry on until bedtime. I'm into year 2 of running a course that someone thought I had the skills to do and I am still suffering from imposter syndrome, in my head I am still 21 and making my way in the world, what do I know about anything and how in the hell do I take responsibility for a whole degree program? I forget all the stuff I know from experience and the stuff that teaching has taught me. Any teacher that tells you they know what they are doing and can predict classroom behaviour is at the very least a liar. Things being an educator has taught me include: Lesson plans make your bosses happy but actually have no real application when t...

I don't even know where to start - summer bought a heck of a lot of birthday parties which for both myself and the madam involved drama  Me: oh god why can't you be unpopular like your siblings? Madam: who even is this person? (tell it like it is kid) I arranged some weird agreement with the husbeast about if he drove us to said social events I'd do the weird social stuff if he agreed to accidently pick us up early - in theory this was a great plan until I became the angry single mum in the corner that everyone simply must engage with - you know for the sake of doing our bit... I have since updated the birthday party agreement in line with THAT doctor who episode where Amy and Rory ultimately kill themselves - together or not at all - which in that episode was probably romantic but when I say it to husbeast it is most definitely a threat.  THE SUMMER HOLIDAYS You know the 6 weeks in which GOOD mums who don't work spend the entire time doing bonding activities ...

 Things I am going to try not to talk about Being a vegan  Yorkshire puddings My weight My job My views on mumming, smug mums, yummy mums or other types Being a member of clubs that rhyme with Wlimming Sworld Anything that involves berating my long suffering husband DISCLAIMER - All of the above is a lie - I just wanted to lull you into a false sense of security... For those of you foolish enough to actually read anything I write in my addled state (see I drank a 1/5th of Vodka dare me to drive?) We went to a birthday party today - yes another bloody one. Now I did learn from the last one in that I accidently on purpose didn't tell the small person until today at the very last minute - once again party time falls in nap time - but hey 2 hours of peace sleeping / napping or bonding with kids = two hours of peace either way. Husbeast and I have an agreement - I'll go to the bloody parties and fake enthusiam so long as he agrees to drive us so we arrive late and accidently pick u...

 Well, here we are again, probably need some disclaimers so hold fire while I make some up... 1) I am a vegan and there is a strict vegan code that says I have to tell you about it every 5 minutes in case you have forgotten - yes I know it's annoying and repetitive but being a vegan (for the first 18 months possibly more) is like the first time you find a new food thing that you are obsessed with - Like the first time I found bacon bits was a thing at the Harvester (other food outlets are available) I had to have bacon bits on everything and tell everyone else about them at every opportunity - my friends, random strangers in the street, in the middle of professional meetings, whenever anyone was eating anything without bacon bits... well you get the picture.  It's no different to when Madam C found out she could click her fingers (something else she doesn't get from me) and she must show us 7 bazillion times a day even though we just bloody saw it and made appropriate proud...

Right before we begin let’s start with the disclaimers and the hard truth...  Fact 1 - So that I don't get sued - I am not endorsing or un-endorsing any weight loss group that I choose to be a part of, that you do or that anyone else does. Any resemblance a group that may or may not rhyme with wlimming sorld is purely coincidental - OTHER GROUPS ARE WIDELY AVAILABLE Fact 2 - I have previously (or not) been a member of Wlimming Sorld and reached something that rhymes with SARGET. So, the plan works - you know if you eat meat and consume a lot of *INSERT BRAND NAME HERE* yoghurts - proof that it does indeed work Fact 3 - In case you didn't know - I went Vegan for a dare for a month 18ish months ago (at the time I did not understand the loss of Yorkshire puddings which previously were about 2 *rhymes with* lyns) Fact 4 - There was a pandemic - I put on all the weight that I had lost plus a stone Fact 5 - I really really really miss Yorkshire puddings - to the point I get very angr...

 Let’s start with a disclaimer and acknowledge we are in the middle of a heatwave, as previously discussed I'm an angry possibly menopausal vegan woman of a certain age, frankly that title was the best I could do under the circumstances... Having survived the previous BBQ where I had to pretend to be a yummy mummy, I've had to face the inevitable return to work - in a heat wave where none of my clothes fit and that ones that do make me look like an overfilled sausage, really not a look that says very serious professional but more forget the pandemic shield your eyes from the horror before you.  Speaking of which Freedom Day - interesting that I feel like I did at the beginning of the pandemic where people are giving me odd looks that I'm still wearing a mask in public - this might also be the overfilled sausage look but I'm blaming it on the wears a mask thing. I've reached the stage where you do you and I'll do me in regard to covid, wear a mask, don't ...