Wednesday 10 June.
My first day of blogging ever. Mothers Ruin.
I'm a slightly juvenile 34 year old with 2 children (nearly 3, 6.5years) living in North London. This blog is going to be The Diary of my most fascinating life as mother, domestic goddess, professional Sainsburys' shopper (I can fill my trolley in under 20mins that's how well I know the beloved establishment) wine-filled-evenings, addiction to East Enders, and the cycle of life in my neighbourhood. I may even touch on my feelings every now and again. If there is interest I can tell you about the spots on my chin and the various anti-aging creams I find myself buying in a pathetic attempt to reverse the process of wrinkle-onset. But I think I'm a bit late in reversing this process because the onset has started and I don't think that however much Olay or Nivea or Berts Bees remedies I smear around the eyes will actually help. But in this instance positive thinking is very important.
So here I am. This is me. I have short hair. Blue eyes. I'm about 5ft5inch. I wear a lot of Sainsburys clothes now that the local shop stocks them. My girls mostly wear hand-me-downs. I drive my parents handed down Volvo V40 which has an airbag signal lit in red in the dash board. My house is a Victorian terrace on a steep hill. Often when we drive over the brow of the hill Molly (6) says I wish that view was the sea. Would be good if it was the sea rather than a power-station in Tottenham - but if it was actually the sea that'd probably mean that global warming had met a new level of danger, in which case I wouldn't be very pleased to see the sea there at all.
My husband cycles, occasionally when its not raining, into Soho to work each morning. Where he is very very very busy. You wouldn't actually believe how busy he is EVERY day. We have mini unspoken business-exhaustion competitions, listing how many things we did / achieved in the day, then move on to how badly we slept the night before, and therefore how much MORE tired we are than the other. But he's lovely. Except perhaps for the absorbing love of cricket. But that's another page for another day.
My garden in my Victorian terrace is not very big and very full of snails. We paid Molly 1p per snail that she put in a Tescos bag on Sunday. Think she made 45p. And then bought 75p's worth of 1p sweets. So I think we need to do a bit more educating in the money area of life.