Monday, 31 August 2009

Cakes and Cars.

What a very busy weekend! But I'm hear now to talk about Sunday. Ah, Sunday. Husband's Aunt was throwing a "Summers Ending BBQ" and I'd been looking forward to this for a while. Firstly because, Hurrah for BBQ's! and secondly because there is not a more entertaining place to be than at one of my Husband's family gatherings. Parents, Siblings, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins all come flocking and it is always a blast.

It's the kind of get-together when you can talk to anyone, butt in on any conversation, throw playful insults, make cheeky remarks and walk around with bare feet. I suppose, just generally it's like being with family. Everyone loves each other and everyone wants to get the last word in. It's a blast.

And of course, with the proverbial invite to a BBQ you have to bring the proverbial desserts. I decided to try and Americanize my English in-laws a bit with a Oreo pound cake and Heavenly Housewife's Honey Sweetened Cornbread. Both went down a huge hit, although everyone kept calling the cornbread, Coconut cakes... Apparently they looked and tasted like coconut. Which, I can tell you, they did not in the least. I think the texture of the cornmeal confused the un-cultured Brits. Who would have thought someone would ever refer to Cornbread as cultured...


On our way home from the BBQ (Which was down in Kent, an hour and 45 minute drive) our car died...15 minutes into the drive. This was at about 8pm, Son was sleeping and the car made a whine like a cat dying and then...well, died. Lucky for us the parents and sister-in-law were not far behind us in their automobiles so we had company...While we waited for a tow... for over 4 hours! Lucky for us we were in a service station, so coffee was of abundance, but still. Shit... God sent us a saving grace in the form of our sleeping son, who did not stir once even when we transferred him and the car seat into sister-in-laws car for the drive home. So, no car. For now at least. The head gasket has gone... like I know what that means. I do know it means $800+. Yippie, goodbye holiday. Big bummer, but despite all that I still have thoroughly enjoyed my bank holiday weekend. Today other than recovering from lack of sleep last night was spent doing the most deepest clean of my house ever. I'm feeling very accomplished.

Nice Lil picture of Son scoffing a honey sweetened cornbread. And now, on to the important stuff!

Oreo Pound Cake

recipe from Jesse Wilson @ Recipezar

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup/8oz butter (softened)
2 cups cake flour
1/2 tsp salt
5 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup crushed Oreo cookies
1 cup vanilla frosting (I used betty crocker)


In a large bowl cream butter, sugar and vanilla with an electric whisk. Gradually add the flour and salt then add one egg at a time. Mix until well blended. Fold the crushed Oreo's in until well blended.

Pour mixture into a well greased and floured 10x6 inch loaf pan.

Bake at 325f for 1 hour or until knife coes out clean.

Let cake cool completely. Place cake on wax paper. Heat frosting in the microwave for 20 seconds or until it can be poured.

Pour frosting over caking and sprinkle with additional crushed Oreo's.

Thursday, 27 August 2009

Things will be hard at time, But I’ve learned to try. Just listening, patiently

Firstly, guys. Fellow bloggers. You've got to stop with the posting of all the cute baby/toddler/kiddy stories. My wee heart can't take it today. I'm feeling a little bit vulnerable and with all these wonderful stories of how kids grow up so fast going around I am feeling all twisted inside.

I am so excited about seeing who my little man becomes, But then also terrified that one day he won't need me... Well I hope he'll always need me in some way but he won't need me to hold his hand, or cuddle him when he's scared or wipe his bum (yes, even that). That's scary. I know it's a ways off still, but already I can see him become a boy, not a baby anymore. He wants to be independent now, he communicates with me, he's got personality and a lot of attitude... I can't handle this today!

It makes me feel old. I know I'm only 24 (so young!) but I feel like 35 is just around the corner...And then 40. And then 60...And then dead. I'm so aware of my own mortality suddenly. I'm also afraid of life going by so fast and not doing all the things I say I want to do. But when I think about all the things I want to do...Really, they are just things and I find comfort that as long as I have my Son, my Husband and my Family, life will be good.

I wish I had my family. God I hate living so far away from them.

Moving on (for my sake more than yours) last night I made a very tasty and super easy (as always) chicken recipe for dinner. Husband adored it and so did I, especially because it was so SO low-cal!

Thought I'd share.

Lemon and Honey Chicken (serves 4)

  • 4 Chicken Breasts
  • Zest and juice of 1 lemon
  • 4 tbsp clear honey
  • 1 tbsp Dijon mustard
  • 1 tsp ground black pepper
  • 2 garlic cloves crushed
  • small new potatoes, (as many as you feel you need!)

Clean and pat down the chicken. Make 2-3 slashes on the top of the chicken breast with a sharp knife. In a large bowl combine the lemon, honey, mustard, pepper and garlic to make the marinade. Place the chicken breasts in the marinade and turn to coat. Cover and leave to marinate for at least 30 minutes.

Pre-heat the oven to 200c. Place the chicken breasts and potatoes in a non-stick roasting tin and and pour over any remaining marinade. Cook in the oven for 20-25 minutes or until potatoes are tender and chicken is cooked through.

Serve with steamed broccoli and any left over marinade from the roasting tin drizzled on top!

Enjoy!


Wednesday, 26 August 2009

To do, to do!

I've recently come to the decision that it's time I got back on the bike we call "life". I had my year off becoming a mum, then I had my 7 months trying to find my feet as "me" again, and now it's time to start living that life I thought I always would.

i.e. being spontaneous.

SO, I of course, true to my nature, am writing a list titled "Spontaneous things to do"

Really.

This is how I work.

Let hope this time I might get some thing done on it.

I'll make it sweet on the lips, i'll simply knock you out


I'm on a mission to bake a New York Style cheese cake. This craving started on Monday when Husband and I were watching the friends episode "The one with all the cheese cakes", I got it in my head that I needed one, I don't remember the last time I had a New York Style Cheese Cake. And really, those are the best ones. So I've been scouring the Internet for the perfect recipe and I believe I may very well have found it. I'll be attempting this on the Bank Holiday Monday I think and will of course, let you know how it goes.
Husband called me up last Thursday to let me know he was fraternising with the likes of Russell Brand and Simon Cowell. This is not an unusual occurrence for Husband as through his place of work he tends to meet quite a lot of celebrities. I'm use to this and when I worked there experienced it myself, chatting with and eyeing up men with Alan Carr. But on Thursday Husband had called because rumor was floating around his work place that Christina Aguilera was in the building.
Now, let me tell you a couple of things about myself. Growing up in and around San Francisco made me an Alternative girl at heart. My iPod play list consists of anything and everything but my spirits instantly lift and I get a warm "welcome home" feeling when tracks the like of Jimmy Eat World, Incubus, Artic Monkeys, Badly Drawn Boy, Counting Crows, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Billy Idol, The Flaming Lips, The Foo Fighters and Stereophonics come on. I am and will always be, a late 80's-90 rock girl.


But, I also have a great appreciation for girl pop. Or maybe it's more so just the girl than it is the pop. Either way I have always had a soft spot for my girls Christina and Britney. Husband knows that if anything is on TV regarding them he best leave the remote alone and let me dance around the living room while salivating over their very well proportioned and perfect bodies. He also knows that if anyone ever brings them up in conversation prepare your self for a long debate over which one you would marry and which one you would have the affair with (the answer to this always changes depending on my mood and what I fancy at the time).

So, you can imagine, that when Husband told me about the rumor that Christina was in his building I absolutely flipped. Usually, I am a hard one to get star struck and although I of course will have a look, I don't seek out to engage them in predictable conversation nor do I need an autograph. You see a lot of celebrities living in London and I use to see a lot living in San Fransisco too. BUT. Christina? A whole different story. Husband is generally like me, will not make a big deal of it (especially since he seems to be fraternising with them all the time... I say the word Celebrity and "them" like that are a higher being or something. hah.) so I of course am freaking out more.
Me: For the love of God, if you miss this opportunity to hook your wife up with her most favourite girl don't come home tonight!
Husband: What do you want me to do? Ask her for her knickers?!
Me: Of course not! Well... Not like that at least. You must be able to word it better.
Husband: I am suppose to be the professional in this Establishment. It's not going to look very good for me if I'm seen begging for autographs, let alone knickers.
Me: I don't care what it makes you look like! If you loved me, you'd do this.
Husband: If I see her, I will try and speak to her for you, but I'm not going to track her down.
Me: Oh yes you are! this is once in a life time! (I at this point am hyperventilating a little. I don't know what came over me)
Husband: (Laughing at me)
Me: Listen, just go up to her and be cool, strike up a conversation, be flirty but polite, and then casually mention that your wife is a fan and also is extremely attracted to her and would love to take her out for a drink... But make sure you make me sound interesting a cool and not desperate and like a crazed fan.
Husband: So I'm not asking for her knickers?
Me: Well if it comes up then don't turn it down, but no... Don't ask right off for her knickers.

After that I reluctantly hung up with my heart a fluttering and wondering if Husband would pull through. It was a tense time. maybe 30 minutes later my phone rings and I suddenly have images that Husband is sat with Christina and they're laughing and chatting and then she suggests she calls me from his phone, you know, to surprise me, a loyal fan. Quickly I try and think of a fun, sexy yet appropriate greeting and after letting it ring twice more realize I shouldn't keep a lady in waiting, so answer with an lame "yo!"

It's only Husband, ringing to tell me that after I had hyped him up he had grabbed a marker and went looking for my girl to get her to sign my favourite tie of his, Only to be told the rumors were not true and that although she was in the movie she was not in the scene they were shooting and so was not on set.

OH WHY?!?! I seriously have never been so fan girlish in all my life. SO unlike me. But geeze... Just goes to show how deep my love runs for my girls.

Also, I love how they are both mums and despite that they still seem to have managed to maintain their most fabulous bodies... How?! I mean, didn't they get loose flesh and wobbly bits and strangely big nipples? And if they did but then "cured it", how? ... I won't except exercise as a valid answer. I won't.

Monday, 24 August 2009

I can promise you that by the time we get through the world will never ever be the same And you're to blame

So, Friday night, huh? How was yours? Mine... Pretty darn good. As you may recall, Friday was "Date Night", Where Husband and I pretended not to know each other and we would 'start over for one night'. We were to meet at Icon Bar in Leicester Square, I was to arrive at 6pm to set the "scene", which I have to say... I did rather well. Really I should be an actress. I walked into the bar at 6.08pm, looking rather hurried and glancing around to see if I recognized anyone. The bar was empty except for a few people stood out on the balcony. I strutted to the bar and climbed gracefully onto a stool, fixing my hair and adjusting my cleavage. "Hi" I said. "Has anyone been looking for me?" The bar men looked confused for a second and then replied no. "I'm on a blind date" I told them, "I'm suppose to meet David here at 6pm and I'm a little late." This, sparked their interest "I've never met him before, and I haven't a clue what he looks like so do me a favor and if David comes in and resembles the hunch back of notre dame, please don't reveal my identity" we laughed and then after declaring he thought I was very brave to which I responded "or very desperate" he asked what I would like to drink. "mmm, something sweet, please, and make sure it's got something in it to give me a little courage"

Seems the Icon Bar has the gem of a very talented Mixologist. These are my favourite kind of people. We named this the Mystic Sunrise, and although I wish I could tell you what he put in it, I cannot. As he was making it he explained he never made off the menu, he always invented his own and with reason because it was beautiful! Strawberry something... It worked for me, and boy did it have a kick! After much praise too my new favourite mixologist we continued to discuss my blind date for this evening. I was the only single friend left in my group and so of course any eligible bachelor my married friends met were instantly offered up to me, who was quite happy to except a drinking and-possibly-more buddy for one night. So I wasn't looking for Mr. Right? he asked. "No no! I'm much to busy to be bothered with all that 'why haven't you called' shit". He nods, declares he likes me and I raise my glass to him, smiling "There is a lot to like".

We chat for another 5-10 minutes about how long I should give David before I leave, since it is now broaching on 6.20pm, when a hot young lady from a private party out on the balcony comes up to the bar. She asks, if I'm with the party, "No" I say "But if my blind date doesn't show up I very well might be crashing it". Another one nabbed. You're on a blind date? She asks, shocked. So I tell her the story and she insists that if David is not at the bar by 6.30 I must join their party because no man is worth waiting 30 minutes for. To this, I agree wholeheartedly and after another few snide remarks towards men of David's kind, she rejoins her party with a reminder that I must come get her once I have given up waiting... So it seems, the scene. Is set.


6.32pm, Husband walks into the bar. I catch him out of the corner of my eye, having a look around and then coming up to the bar on my left to regard the wine menu. I trying to keep casual, ask my favourite new mixologist if he'd mind watching my bag while I popped out to the balcony for a smoke. Of course, he says, anything for my favourite new lady. I retreat to the balcony to allow Husband to set his scene, to interact with the bar staff and to find his footing. I saunter back into the bar and clock Husband sat in a comfortable alcove to the left of the bar (see the picture below) with a glass of white wine. I settle back onto my stool at the bar and ask the time. 6.37 he says, shaking his head with a smile. So what am I going to do now he enquirers. I shrug and mention the private birthday party on the balcony I have been invited to but am unsure since I am defiantly the best dressed out of that lot and I wouldn't want to upset the birthday girl. He asks if I would like another drink, and as I slurp up the dredges of the last of my cocktail, Husband approaches the bar and asks for another glass of wine (despite the fact he hadn't finished his first, and this was noted by the bar men). I begin to gather my belongings when Husband asks "Can I get you a drink?" I pause, look him up and down and then smile. "Well, I'm drinking cocktails." He smiles back. "I can afford it".

Husband was handed his glass of wine and said "And what ever this lady's having", the look My Bar Man gave Husband was priceless, and then he looked to me quizzically, as if to say "really? This guy?" I, always smiling, ordered again, something sweet with a kick and lets go for Raspberry this time. He got to work and so did I, turning to Husband I asked "You're not David are you?" No, he said. Was I waiting for David? I giving him my most coy look replied "Not anymore". He inquired who David was and I explained one more time, the story of my failed blind date. Husband was surprised a girl like me would need to be set up on a blind date, this was my opening to explain what I do for a living "Well I work with crazy people, so my perception of what is normal is slightly skewed, and also if anyone knew I'd said that I would totally be fired". So what do you do then? Asked Husband.

This led into the proverbial first date conversation, What do you do? Where do you come from? How rich are you? and Oh BTW what's your name?

I of course explained I was a (sexy) student at UCL (props to Heavenly Housewife for planting this baby in my head) just having finished my first year studying for my doctorate in Psychology I was working as a Trainee Psychologist at a PCT in London. I got into Psychology because when I was 17 a Boyfriend told me I should try it and then after breaking up with him, took his advice and moved to the UK to continue my education. I choose the UK for the fact that Psychology works very differently there (due to the NHS) and also you don't pay for school fee's so it was like a free ride (fact). Husband of course asked if I was going to psycho-analyse him to which I declared "I've already done it, we'll be sharing a bed tonight". But before all that, maybe I should learn a little more about this mysterious man.

Husband was a designer. "like clothes?" I asked. No, he was a consultant that ergonomically designed office space. He owned his own company, and was from a wealthy background. He.Was.Loaded. And my god did he ever play it up. "holiday homes" everywhere, parents desperate to marry him off, but he was quite happy being a bachelor and spending his money the way he wanted too. We talked for a while, about family, what our likes and dislikes were, we joked, we flirted, I did the occasional touch of his bicep or pretended to pick lint off his jacket. We worked it and we both worked it well, making sure to occasionally involve the bar staff to keep the illusion going. It was fun, and it almost felt real. I loved it.

There was of course, more than two cocktails had, but they were strong cocktails, you know? So after the 2nd one I forgot my camera by the wayside and continued to knock them back. Not long after, I declared to Husband that I would have to leave because I needed to go home and get myself some dinner before I really did get drunk, "but first I must excuse myself to the bathroom" I said "and please feel free to watch me walk away". So I sauntered off, working the hips momma gave me to my best ability.

When I returned Husband asked if I would like to go to dinner with him, the restaurant attached to the hotel he was staying at did to die for Pizza, apparently. I hesitated (to play the game) and suddenly the bar man was at my side, encouraging me to go. He was a decent guy, have a nice dinner out, best to put my beautiful dress to use. Ah, so you two have had words? I thought. I of course, agreed to dinner, And so, with a quick but firm squeeze of Husband's thigh I told him to lead the way.

We hopped on the tube and began the journey to the hotel. This is when the act started to diminish. With an audience it was exciting, fun and cheeky. With just the two of us it seemed silly to continue with the role play. By this time, that was quite fine with me, because although I seriously enjoyed our "first date" all over again, it made me realize just how much I love my life. And I do. I wouldn't change any part of it for the world.

But first, Husband and I must share our "first kiss" and, funnily, it was like that. I felt just as nervous and excited by this kiss as if I was kissing someone I liked for the first time, but of course, this was someone I loved. He's an excellent kisser anyways and I was already hot for him, so this might have helped with the magic.

We went to Fratelli in Maida Vale (which is a part of the Marriott we were staying at) and they DID do the most amazing pizza. Oh why didn't I take a picture? It was beautiful and exactly what I wanted after a night full of cocktails and sexual tension.

Husband declared ever so romantically over dinner that he felt he had to be honest with me and was planning on taking me up to bed after our meal to have his dirty way with me. I, with a mouth full of pizza, said that this would be fine with me.

And so the date ended. Well obviously it didn't end there, it ended 2-3 hours AFTER that, but you don't want all those details, surely.

All in all, If you are one capable of role play and so is your partner I would recommend this idea for some fun. As I said though, the magic was lost when we no longer had the audience and I seriously think it worked well because we had both set the scene so well, pulling in people from the bar so that they were part of it. Husband and I are both generally very social people, neither of us have any shyness whatsoever and are very good at "making friends", so this was easy for us.

So, yes, Brill! And also kind of nice like "warm inside" nice because it made me realize just how much I really do love my life. Not that I doubted it, but it made me wish I owned a T-shirt that said something like "I'm a wife and mother and PROUD" with small print on the back "even if I don't get out as much" because I would wear it.

The picture above by the way might be me. It might also be an unfortunate picture of a woman who was wearing the same dress that I was and happened to be sitting in the same tube carriage. You decide.

Sunday, 23 August 2009

Say cheese!

I forgot to mention I bought myself a camera last week. Called Husband up on Monday and said "Can I have a new camera" and he said "ok". Surprisingly simple but also disappointing, there was that little bit of me hoping that one evening in the week he was going to come home with a cheeky smile and a hand behind his back and it would go something like this:

Husband: Honey, come here. I have a surprise for you.
Me: Oh, for me?!...what did you do?
Husband: Nothing, silly! I just wanted to get you something. Can a man get the love of his life a gift once in a while?
Me: I suppose so

Then he would unveil this beautifully wrapped box, which he would insist I sit down comfortably to open and once I had revealed my nice new shiny camera he would then continue to sit with me and help me work out all the gizmo's.

But I suppose you have to take what you can get, and although Husband is a very brilliant husband, he is extremely rubbish at anything that would be considered a classic gesture of love, if you follow. Which I get now (3 frustrating Christmas's/birthdays and valentines days later).

So I bought myself a bog standard Samsung 10.2 mega pixels camera. It was a deal and although I do want the flash $500 camera, I shall leave THAT baby for Husband to think over come Christmas time. I choose this camera for a specific reason though... It has a setting called "Beauty Shot", I've never seen this before. This mode and I quote "retouches the subjects skin to make it appear smooth and blemish free".. BRILLIANT. And it works! And you may recall from my previous post, when my monthly pal is visiting she tends to make herself known on my face as well.

I suppose some of you may be wondering how Friday went, the BIG date. I'm compiling my thoughts into a blog post to be done tomorrow, don't worry, pictures and stories to come! But for now I'm elbow deep in the monthly online grocery shopping chore. I use to hate grocery shopping online but now I love it, Once a month for all the staples and it's like Christmas has come early when Tesco knocks at my door.

I'm so easily pleased.

Thursday, 20 August 2009

I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby


I remember vividly on my 20th Birthday how I made a toast to "No more zits, spots or pimples!". Although I never had serious acne I was always spotty and dreamt often about how once I was out of my retched teen's I would have clear, smooth and perfect skin.
How disappointed was I when I discovered on my 20th birthday they didn't magically all disappear.
It's a lot better now, and I've become a dab hand with the concealer, but I do then to get a few pop up during my period. I've never used any special creams other than Body Shop's Tea Tree range (which is. Amazing btw.) because I keep trying to fool myself that eventually I'll "grow up" and never had spots again.
So to summarize.
Not only am I on my period for this highly anticipated date on Friday, but I now also have a mine field on my chip.
Sexy. no?
Quick question as well, I've written a veryvery long post and wanted to cut it... you know, so that you have to click the link to read more? So that I don't overwhelm and/or bore people with my tale... Anyone know how to do this?

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

I've been waiting for you


NOoooOOooOOOOO!!! ..... I started my period.

Sod's bloody law this would happen before the "big date". Anyone know any tricks to stop or delay a period? ... I'm sure if you did you are a millionaire and if not you should sell that bit of advice and get copyright on it ASAP, baby!

Blast.

These fickle, fuddled words confuse me, Like 'Will it rain today?'



I'm sure as you all know, I'm pretty rubbish at titling my posts. So I think from now on I'll try using a lyric that in some way represents the post. Also feel free to guess the song/artist each time. I might send you baked goods. :)

Son has reached the infamous "no" stage. Everything is no. would you like water? no. Would you like to play? no. Would you like to sit? no. Would you like to stand? no. Would you like to lay down? no. Would you like to go live with your grandmother for two weeks while your mother recovers from going crazy? no.

He just sits there pointing at everything, and then saying no when I offer it too him. omg someone please tell me this stage only last a week. Or better 48 hours. When he is in a good mood (which I have to say, is a lot of the time) he's so much fun and so silly and has such a brilliant sense of humor. but when he gets in that no.no.no mood... It's like it never ends. If he didn't say it in such a sing song cute voice I would have probably already pulled my hair out, but it is kind of sweet.

You know, I still don't feel like a mother. I find it easy and natural to say "I have a son" but is I or someone refers to me as a Mum I feel very trippy. Like my jaw drops and I have to restrain myself from saying allowed "oh fuck, so I am". It's odd especially since I have fallen into motherhood so naturally and I have always been maternal. I love being Son's mother. I love every second of it. But... to think that for the rest of my life someone will be calling me Mum, well... That's big! And to think that no matter what happens to Husband and I's relationship (and lets hope nothing does happen, but IF) we will always be someones Mum and Dad, thus always making us a pair.

Does that mean I'm like...committed? Heavy...

I wonder if anyone understands what I'm trying to communicate though. I'm not surprised and I know what I'm in for and I've never been happier and more complete in my life. BUT... It's still, when spelt out for me, weird.

When do you feel like a mother? Will I suddenly have this huge urge to buy a mini van, badly perm my hair, invest in the best vacuum cleaner money can buy and start wanting to wear long ankle length skirts and my husband's shirts? This is apparently what will happen when I really realize I am a mother according to certain people i shall not name (for further reasons I cannot say), I will start to not care about small things such as my appearance, staying fit/trim, and personal achievements/happiness. If that's the case then I'd much rather not, thankyouverymuch. I quite like the way we work now.And lets be honest here, I can't get away with wearing mini skirts for much longer so it's best to take advantage of this until I do reach the ripe old age of "I can't believe she's wearing that at her age!".

Tuesday, 18 August 2009

What's your fantasy

What's your fantasy I previously mentioned that Husband and I gave each other a "fulfill my fantasy" letter on Valentines day. His, I fulfilled. This coming Friday, he will fulfill mine.

I like to reminisce. I do it a lot, about the "good 'ol days". I particularly get quite whimsical when I think of the first few months of Husband and I's affair. You know how it is; the excitement, the nerves, the butterflies and racing heart. Asking questions about each other, telling stories. I miss that, husband knows all the answers to my questions and knows all my stories.

So, here is the fantasy:

I, am a single woman and I've been set up on a blind date by a friend. I go to a hotel bar to meet my mystery man, but alas... he does not show. As I'm downing another cocktail all on my lonesome, a handsome chap walks in and orders a drink. Spots me, and offers to buy me a drink. ME feeling very sorry for myself decide to accept. Begin the challenge of seduction.

Husband is suppose to be in London "on business" so he has a hotel room... Now I've told him there is no guarantee's that I'll be going to his hotel room, it all depends on how well he charms me (and how well he liquors me up).

Well, you get the idea. We're "starting over" as of sorts. But the catch is we have to be different people as well. I mean, yeah I'm still going to be me, but I need a different job, a different history, or when Husband is asking questions, getting to know me, he'll know everything I'm going to say.

SO this is where you lot come in. What should I be? I want it to be something realistic (so not some crazy powerful company director... I am only 24 lets remember) and something I know enough about that I could probably fool someone into believe it's what I did.

First I was thinking something to do with food. I like food, I can talk about food. But realistically, at 24 I couldn't be a restaurant critic, could I? Maybe a pastry chef? But is that alluring, or boring? Maybe that would be my hobby. I don't want anything to do with writing because he'll expect that. I'm thinking a trainee psychologist. I work with them and I listen enough to probably blag my way through it... And I have some interesting stories about crazy people.

Idea's anyone? Also on my history. why am I in England for example?

Oh also, go here for a sneak peek at the dress I'll be wearing. I have to say, I'd do me wearing this dress. AND although Karen Millen holds my heart I think I might be having an affair with Jane Norman

Monday, 17 August 2009

A little toddler insight


From my weekly BabyCenter e-mail:

Some children surprise with another kind of force — hitting, especially when they're frustrated. The most likely target: you. It's counter-intuitive, but this is actually a sign of trust. A 17-month-old child knows that you're a safe person to show just how upset and frustrated he can get.


Phew! Because I thought he just hated me. This actually gives me a little glee as well, because he never hits Daddy and so Husband is always rubbing in my face that it's because he's the favourite. Obviously not, buddy. Hah! 1- nil to Mummy!

This past weekend I made two desserts. Very similar recipes and idea's but one was Lemon the other Chocolate. First I shall share the Lemon Pudding recipe, because it was divine, SO very simple and light enough to enjoy a big helping (which I say is always a plus).

Again, I nabbed the picture from the magazine I got the recipe from, so all credit to them blahblah. I am ashamed to say Husband still has not got me a camera, am now considering threatening with divorce if I don't get one soon. Though on some days this he may see as a relief. ;)

Lemon Pudding
Recipe & picture from EasyCook Magazine


50g butter
200g caster sugar
zest of 1 lemon
100ml lemon juice
3 eggs, separated
50g plain flour, sifted
250ml milk
icing sugar for dusting
  1. Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160/gas gas 4. Whizz the butter, sugar and lemon zest until they are pale and creamy in a food processor. Add the lemon juice, egg yolks, flour and milk one by one until you have a smooth batter. Whisk the egg whites until firm but not stiff, and fold the two mixtures together.
  2. Pour into a buttered ovenproof soufflé or baking dish and put it in a baking tray half filled with hot water. Bake for 45-50 minutes until the top is lightly browned and set and there is a sort of gooey lemon curd below. Remove the dish from the tray, dust with icing sugar and serve hot, with or without cream.

Saturday, 15 August 2009

Wedding fiasco

The wedding was...difficult.

Well, this isn't true. The wedding it self was lovely. It was very laid back. BBQ style with 100+ people in attendance. Quite a few kids so Son was quite happy.

The difficult part was my dress.

It began once I put my dress on a realized my -A size boobs did not fill the chest of the dress, leaving me with a gaping hole that if it caught the wind right I could have easily set sail. So, reluctantly, and embarrassingly I had to stuff my bra with socks. The last time I did that I was 12. It was heart breaking, but I have to say effective, and even gave me a nice little bit of cleavage. No one need know.

It's a nice dress to btw. Pinkish. I didn't have a matching bag so I dressed son up in a pink shirt. Gotta coordinate something, ya know? and he's on my hip half the time anyways. It's also a dress that fits tightly around the thighs and has a small slit up the back, which would be fine if you're at a dinner party, or something of the kind. NOT so good when you are having to run after a toddler. As soon as I got out of the car, RRRRIIIIIPPPPP.

My eyes went wide. Husband, being husband, thought that Son had just let one rip (men) but no. My dress has split so that the slit was now precariously close to my bum cheeks. It being a nice summers day, I of course was wearing nothing more than a little thong underneath (pink though! so at least it matched!), you know, to get a bit of free flowing air between the thighs, lovely feeling.

The first half an hour at the wedding was spent with my back to the wall while also trying to maintain an eye on Son. Eventually the bride's mother offered to sew me back up, which I gladly accepted, looking forward to finally being able to relax a bit and enjoy the free wine and food.

Once sewed up I took to the garden, frolicking with Son after a labradore puppy. Until... RRRIIIIIPPPPP.

Oh god. My Friend K's boyfriend was stood behind me and let out a quite chuckle and "oh dear, there it is". Shit. This time it had ripped all the way up to my lower back, leaving my bare bum cheeks and cheeky little thong on display. You know, the thing is, I'm the kinda girl that in the right place this would have be laughed off and maybe even flaunted a bit, but not at a posh wedding where children and adolecent boys were running free. no no no.

Needless to say, we were out of there fast, before I DID become that guest at the wedding. You know the one, the one that when people talk about the wedding it goes a little something like this; "Lovely wedding, the bride was beautiful..." .. "Yes, but did you see that woman flashing her bum!"

No thanks. Not this time.

So I think all in all, we were at the wedding for a full...2 hours? if that. We did manage to eat before we went. So I guess it was a winner in the end. :)


Friday, 14 August 2009

A feast with friends

As I previously mentioned Wife came over to stay for two nights this week. She needed a break and we were more than happy to give it too her. Of course though, Son decides to come down with a cold so there was very little peace and "girly time" (until husband was due home and he came in as we were walking out... "off to the pub!").

I've been on a Mexican run the last few days and of course, who else would you go too for gorgeous Mexican recipes other than Pam at For the Love of Cooking? Wednesday night I made her Black bean green chili and sharp Cheddar
flautas
which I have to say were out STANDING. These might even be my weekly Mexican hit, now. So easy, so store cupboard do-able, and perfect for lunch or/and dinner. Husband didn't get any (home to late and they were gone quick!) so I've promised to make them on Monday for him too. Too yummy. I really must insist any Mexican lovers try these.

Tonight I made her Mexican rice casserole, which was easy enough to throw together, Son wouldn't touch it, but this didn't surprise me because he is not a fan of beef or mince. Once I'd served it up I was feeling a bit hesitant because I'm not particularly good with presentation as of yet, but once it passed our lips Husband and I were very pleased. Husband went for seconds too! which actually isn't unusual but he's not as big a fan of Mexican as I am, so slightly surprising. Another winner. Oh, and Pam? thank you thank you.

It was a good few days, although son has this cold which leaves me anxious and worried all the time. He has a real nasty cough at the moment but he's much better now, playing, laughing, sleeping. Has taken to dancing on his tip-toes with his arms out like a ballerina. Husband was well pleased.

Tomorrow, the wedding. Which after spending nearly 300 quid on new outfits for the three of us, I am told yesterday that it is casual wear. Men in jeans and shirts, women in summer dresses if they really want. Now excuse my language, but why the fuck didn't she tell me that 5 months ago, or 2 months ago, or IN THE INVITATION?!?!

I spent 50+ quid on Son's new suit that he now doesn't need and will probably not get another opportunity to wear. Husband is now not wearing his dapper 3-piece and I don't get to view him in it. This has really ticked me off. I am still wearing my dress, they can all go to hell, don't care if I'm "over-dressed" I'll just consider it "The best dressed".

I had my last therapy session on Thursday for the next two weeks as therapist is on holiday. I'm going to miss it, if not only for the 2 hour break I get from home. One day, when I have the time and focus I might write a more detailed and stronger blog post than my posts have been of late. But it's all been a bit crazy lately. Can you forgive me?

Also starting this Sunday I have a pile of several dessert recipes I have been dying to try and have decided I will bang them all out next week. I'll keep you updated.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

A montage

Magic 105.4 is playing a montage of my youth. I swear. Each song is taking me back. Some of them to cringe worthy embarrassing teen moments and some songs to moments filled with love and hope. It's very nice an all except I'm sat here with my mood's changing so fast people will think I've hit menopause already.

It always amazes me how a song can move you so strongly.

I am not on the ball today, seems this is catching though because everyone in my office is flustered and anxious. I feel I have good reason... Son is sick and I'm still doing the "Mummy guilt" thing that I can't make him magically better. He's not that sick though... He's just got a little bit of a cold, which means I can't justify going to the Doctor's to hear him assure me that I'm doing everything I should be doing.

I seriously feel I'm in need of a pint. No cocktail, no wine, screw the champagne, I need a pint. A manly, put hairs on my chest, pint. And a fag... ooo or a cigar. Hah.

I've been enlighten to my true calling recently. I should be a professional thief. I can forge signatures, I can pick locks, I can hot wire a car and I can smell money a mile away. Now, I couldn't be a cat bugler, I'm far to clumsy for that... Oh and also, I don't know how to do these things because I was a "troubled teen" or anything. I use to lock myself out all the time when I was a kid (by accident) so learnt how to pick locks with bobby pins, and I had a friend that was a car fanatic (he was who really got me into my cars) and taught me the hot wiring thing... Forging signatures... Daddy's credit card, baby.

Someone at work asked if they could count my freckles.

Wednesday, 12 August 2009

Cakes by post

Blondies and Brownies looks like my kinda online shop. This site inspires me to invite the girlie's over and order a box of there very best. It's like Pizza Delivery but with brownies...could it get much better? I think not.

Speaking of girlie's, Wife is coming over to spend a few days/nights at our shack. Husband is out at another exec do tonight and so Wife and I are going to enjoy a few bottles of rose and some of my fine cooking. tomorrow night Husband is cooking for both his Wives, but when I say cook I suspect he might be pulling out the Sausage and Potato Hot Pot left overs from the freezer. Then Friday I am off and Wife and I plan on having a lazy morning with son and I'm deciding between Pancake or French Toast...How to choose?! I fancy some kind of fruit compote with it. I'm sure I've got raspberries in the freezer.

Here's something for you to ponder. Is how to eat a Oreo something you are born with or something you learn? You know; Twist, lick, dunk. Do you do it because you see others do it or because you've seen the cute add with the little blond boy depriving his poor dog of his Oreo cookie? Or do you do it because the Oreo itself calls to you to eat it that way. You look at it and you know, know! that there is only one true way to eat it.

I believe the latter and I believe this because I gave my son an Oreo cookie the other day, with of course I glass of milk (what? you think I'm a cruel mother?) of course. We've never had Oreo's in the house before this, so I don't believe he's ever come across them nor witnessed someone eating them.

After a thorough inspection, he twisted... he licked (and scraped and poked) the cream....and then... he dunked.

Hurrah!

Perhaps it is like an instinct. And a very understandable one at that.

Contentment breeds rebellion and rebellions what we need if we're ever to be happy... I want to be happy.

Poor Son has a sore throat. Was up half the night with him comforting him through fits of coughing. He was fine this morning, sounded a bit horse but was his usual bubbly and rambunctious self so sent him off to nursery with the request to keep an eye on him and call me if he gets lethargic at all. I'm sure he'll be fine.

It's funny though how even though I know kids get cold, and they pick up every bug they come in contact with but I still some how feel responsible. I'm sure it's a general mother feeling that even though logic tells me I can't stop him from getting a cold (although of course I wouldn't send him out into the cold with wet hair etc. etc.) I still feel I have failed him some how.

I took a online quiz thing the other day and I found the results quite interesting because they essentially are similar to what my Therapist is trying to tell me. I'm not a believer of online quizzes btw, but this one made me think.

Eve completed the quiz "What's your biggest weakness?" with the result Soul.

You are intelligent and you think about life and philosophy and WHY to everything. A lot. But you are missing passion. You like to do creative things, but they often lack the soul behind it. You can make people laugh and beat your friends in an IQ test, but when it comes to living life to the fullest you are lost, even though you think you aren't. You think you are right, but underneath of it all you are confused. You are only guided by your mind which often leads you astray, but your soul rarely reflects in your life. You like to work hard for things and you think you deserve them, but you sometimes wonder why you are where you are. You need direction for your persistent and determined personality, but you aren't sure where to get it. .


This is slightly insulting, at least I take it that way, I suppose because no one wants to have their weakness blown into public but I read this and my first reaction was "bullshit, I've got soul! I'm full of passion"... which I like to think is true but when I read it and took it in all as one it starts to ring true.

My Therapist is constantly telling me to stop being so clinical. I spoke about it before, my defense mechanism, being able to pretend, but it also left me very detached. I am so "unflappable" because I am detached from most situations. I suppose another way of saying that is that I don't have any soul, so to speak, invested in the situation. It's very interesting and fascinating to look at it from this angle. And here you go! another perfect example! I am even detaching myself from this, looking at this diagnoses of mine very clinically. So frustrating that I can't just BE but also very safe.

It's also very conflicting because I generally think of myself as popular, funny, lively, happy and the "go to" girl for all my friends. And I am those things, but I am also, as said above "but when it comes to living life to the fullest you are lost, even though you think you aren't. You think you are right, but underneath of it all you are confused" This is true and I know this and this is exactly why I started seeing a Therapist.

"You need direction for your persistent and determined personality" And that is what I am doing in going to therapy.

So the out come I suppose is... You have to know and recognize your faults before you can fix them, yes? Step one down the path to self discovery? We shall see... This is all awfully deep for 10am in the morning. Maybe it's time for a tea and biscuit break.

Tuesday, 11 August 2009

5 things and a recipe for you

No 1. My Daily Note from The Universe.

If you can just remember where this is all going, Eve, no road will be too bumpy,
no night will be too lonely, and no price will seem too great.
Plus, with just a wink your confidence will bring peace to nations.

Careful now,
The Universe

Would that just be the coolest thing ever? One wink and I could forever mend the world. Possible. Something to consider and also must be more careful when winking, don't want to start anything the world can't handle yet.

No 2. Someone in my office farted and then tried to pin it on the Kebab House. Pharrrph; they go. A awkward pause and then "Dang...Did you just get that waft through the window? Damn Kebab House". Sure, right. Like I'm gonna fall for that.

No 3. Meerkat sex has got to be the funniest thing ever. If anyone has seen Meerkat Mansion you know of what I speak.

No 4. With Baby P's abusing Trio out too the public now and further information regarding the history of the offenders, It is even harder now to believe that social services continued to allow Baby P to live in that house hold. It is sickening the life Baby P lived up to his death. Tracey Connelly, Steven Baker and Jason Owen deserve much more than 5 years in prison. It is cases like these when I wish England had the death penalty.

No 5. Husband is so inconsistent with his tea making. Seriously so. There was a time shortly after we got married that I would only drink tea he had made, I wouldn't make it myself, his was always perfect and he was crowned official tea maker. Then gradually... it dwindled. Sometimes it is perfect, sometimes it's like drinking nats piss. What I can't understand is how he can make it different each time? doesn't he just do the same thing?... He no longer is allowed to make my tea.


What to make for dinner that's quick and easy and happens to be in my bare cupboards (why are my cupboards always bare?). Well, I had a tin of artichoke hearts I've been wanting to use for ages (I love artichokes. I have nostalgia for them. They make me think of my mother) and I had pasta. So I made this very simple quick but tasty dish. I'm sure you could use any veg though. It's our bog standard pasta dish really, but thought I'd share anyways.

Artichoke Pasta

1 tin artichoke hearts, drained and quartered
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1-2 teaspoons of olive oil
1 bowl of pasta dry (I didn't measure it...enough for two people)
1 cup of Parmesan cheese, grated

Cook the pasta per the instructions.

While the pasta is cooking heat the oil in a deep frying pan and saute the garlic for 1-2 minutes. Make sure it doesn't burn! (I didn't...) add the artichoke hearts and saute for a few minutes until the artichokes are heated through and starting to show some color.

Once the pasta is ready lift out of the pot with a slotted spoon and add to the frying pan. Add the Parmesan and mix well. you may need to add a little of the cooking water to keep the pasta "wet". Serve with Garlic bread.

Enjoy!

Monday, 10 August 2009

Stir fry?

How many times do you think I will say "I need a camera" before Husband buys me one? Shall we make bets?

Son is still having explosive poops but he's been a really good happy boy all day and I miraculously managed to do my huge errand list. I'm feeling quite the domestic goddess.

Although I was fancying Mexican for dinner afte
r looking through I decided on attempting to throw together a Chinese style rice chow main stir fry type thing. Not sure what to call it, maybe you can name it for me. It turned out surprisingly well and Husband helped himself to seconds with still enough left over for us both to take some to work for lunch tomorrow.

Oh I also made rice properly for the first time. I always ruin rice because I would just fill (to the brim) a pot of water and throw a cup of rice in and I could n
ever figure out for the life of me why my rice was always soggy and sticky. Did it right today after some advice from work colleague and was quite impressed with my rice. who would have though it would be so easy.

Measurements are rough because mostly I co
oked to taste.


The Chinese Dish without a name
(serves 4)

1 Bag of frozen cooked prawns, defrosted (or of course...you could just not buy frozen. S'all I had!)
2 tbsp Stir Fry oil
8 spring onions, chopped
1/2 tsp Five Spice
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp garlic paste
2 1/2 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp fish sauce
1 1/2 cups rice
1 1/2 cups mixed veg (I used broccoli, cauliflower, carrots and peas), par-cooked.

Cook the rice per instructions.

Heat the oil in a wok. Add the spring onions, five spice, tomato & garlic paste, soy sauce and fish sauce. Saute 2-3 minutes, until fragrant. Add the prawns and veg and toss well with the sauce, coating completely. leave to cook for 5 minutes or until the veg is tender. Remove from heat and add the rice, mixing well until everything is coated.

There shouldn't be lots of sauce, just enough to give everything color.

Enjoy!

Does this read ok? I'm never sure how to write out a recipe of my own.




Clear out in all sense of the word

Oh god, someone help me. This is one of those days when I wish I lived in America because right now I would be insisting my mother ditched worked and got her but over to mine to help out.

I have a mammoth list of errands to run around town. Things I could have done over the weekend but didn't because Saturday was Bob day and then Sunday was Mother-in-laws 65th Birthday and that was a whole day of celebrating. So I figured, it'd be fiiiine, I can cram it all in on Monday before work on Tuesday.

Of course we wake up this morning to a projectile vomiting and shitting Son. It's pretty gruesome. I've had to disinfect his whole bedroom (due to an exploding nappy...and I don't mean that lightly) AND the sofa (due to Breakfast coming back up quick and fast). My house smells. The inscents are doing nothing.

Son though, luckily, is not acting sick. Is still generally happy and playing and does not have a fever, I've only been feeding him toast and water and he's napping now but I'm just really unsure if I'll be able to get out today. Have begged Husband to come home early so I can go run the errands but early still isn't until 5pm. Right now I should be hanging up laundry and cleaning the bathroom (yup, it's that time again) but I kind of need a breather.

And what to do for Dinner?! I have nothing in the house and I was planning on doing Pam's Shredded Pork Taquitos over at For the love of cooking. But find it unlikely I will have time to do this now. Especially since I don't have the pork.... I need a quick meal idea for tonight, and I fancy Mexican but don't want to have t buy bucket loads of ingredients...Suggestions?

So much to do. Anyone want to run my errands for me? Or run my life?

Bring food.

Saturday, 8 August 2009

How did this happen?

I have Bob. Well not Bob actually because Bob is the rabbit in the picture of the previous post. This is a new Bob. A different rabbit but still Bob... How this happened is...complicated.

The plan (why is there ever a plan?) was to go to the pet shop today to buy all the rabbit gear and then tomorrow afternoon go and collect the rabbit. So, off we go to the pet shop. We walk in and I already have in my mind what I'm going to buy and how much it will cost (research baby), When we arrive I strut in (imagine if you will: Black pencil skirt with lace trim, white/pink striped sleeveless blouse, black heels, designer bag and Son covered in recently devoured lunch on my hip) and say "I'm want everything I need to keep a Rabbit". The staff loved me, and instantly showed me this huge double story, stair case with separate sleeping courtiers rabbit hutch on sale for only 100 quid. That thing was bigger than OUR house. I said no, I was told before I could get everything I need including the hutch for 80 smackaroons. No no no! They say. If you're keeping a rabbit the hutch you're talking about is too small! ...But it's called a Rabbit hutch, I say. For keeping Rabbits? Yes, but it's too small. So...why is it a Rabbit hutch then? shouldn't it be a gerbil hutch or something? This went on for a good hour, me loitering in the shop confused as my whole "walk in and get out" plan goes to shit. Now I don't know what I want... Eventually a dirty diaper calls me to my senses and we have to leave the shop to change Son. While in the fresh air (well, fresh minus the dirty nappy smell), Husband who is feeling equally harassed suggests we go to the farm down the road that has a Pet's Corner and see if they do Hutch's and we can get a better deal.

So off we go.

There, they do us a deal, 85 for a hutch all the trimmings and a baby rabbit thrown in. DEAL we say! DEAL! Give us our Rabbit! But wait...we have a rabbit, we only need the gear.. Ah, but you can only get that deal if you take a Rabbit too. Hm. So again, an hour spent loitering in a shop unsure...Confused because now we are having to think and consider things we don't really want to have too think about. Can't I just have my Rabbit? Can't this be easy?
Husband says "yes, it can. Let's just get this one" I nod, exasperated and now, just wanting to go home.

Give us the lot, we say. Sure thing, says the employee. But not for 4 weeks, The Rabbits are still too young to leave their mother.

BLAST! I shake my head while trying to balance annoyed and bored toddler on my hip. Really fed up now I say, to husband and anyone that will listen, "This is too confusing and not nearly as pleasurable and exciting experience as I hoped. We're going home" I'm thinking we'll think on it over night, I'll do a bit of online hunting for some deals and we'll see what comes of it Sunday morning.

And we leave.

Is that the end? Noooooooooooooo. Of course not.

We go to Colchester now, heading to Karen Millen to return my toosmall dress (it hurt, btw. giving that beautiful dress back) and we walk past a private owned little of the beaten track pet shop. "Let's go in!" Says I "These kind of places will always do deals!"

And they did. We got it all. Rabbit and all, for 80 quid. As soon as the transaction was done and we were tromping back to the car to load up (which took forever...you try loading a huge stroller, a huge hutch and a box with a rabbit in it into a average size sedan. How Husband managed it I do not know) I started to doubt. The rabbit was bought in haste and in frustration and in a desperate state of just getting it over with. In hind sight, we should have just kept walking, gone back tomorrow and reserved the ones at the Pets Corner for 4 weeks time.

But we have Bob. And I have to say, he's pretty darn perfect. He's very cute, very little and surprisingly very tame. He hasn't flinched once while Son has chased him screaming around the garden, and he's sat quietly in son's lap while he pets and prods him. And I'm awfully proud of Son because he's being very gentle. Toddler gentle of course, so not delicate, but you can tell he's trying. We let Bob run around the house for a bit and Son just followed behind him slowly, sticking bits of treat under his nose when he could. He's so sweet, and I'm happy. Bob seems laid back enough to be able to handle our house hold.

Phew though! Who would have though a Rabbit would disrupt a day so!

I'll post a picture soon. When I get a camera! :P

Friday, 7 August 2009

Meet Bob

This is Bob. Bob is Son's new pet. We pick him up on Sunday. Husband and I had agreed that this coming Christmas we would buy Son (well...me...) a pet. We didn't want a cat and our garden isn't big enough for a dog. I voted for a snake (I use to keep them) but Husband is a big scaredy cat. So we settled on a bunny. Thing is though, you ain't gonna find any baby bunnies (I believe they are called Kit's) in December. So here there you go. Sunday, we get Bob.

I'm so excited for us. Saturday to the pet shop for all the paraphernalia. Too cute. This will make up for dumping Son unceremoniously at Nursery this morning. Hah.

Thanks btw HH and Miranda for the kind words. I think I just needed to get my guilt of my chest to make me feel better. If that makes sense. Will blog more insightful things when am not at work and do not have bunny's on the brain.

A mothers guilt.

I have a pain in my heart. I'm having to work today (usually I only work Tue, Wed & Thur) because one of my colleagues who is chronically sick with SOMETHING (she gets whatever is in the news, last year it was foot & mouth and this year it's swine flu) and so has been off for two weeks, leaving a huge pile of work to build up on her desk, Boss asked me to come in today to clear as much work as I could, I figured why not, although I like keeping my Friday's for Mummy/Son time, I wouldn't mind the extra cash and it's just this once.

Now, usually, on working days I get up at 6am and get myself showered and dressed then have breakfast and pack a lunch, so that by the time Son wakes up (7am) I'm ready to focus on him for an hour and have a bit of play time before we have to leave.

This morning Husband said he would re-set the alarm because he was leaving at 5am. Of course he didn't so I didn't wake up until Son woke me up at 7am. Which meant I had to just put him in the high chair with his Breakfast and get myself ready. Leaving him to his food and morning telly. I was flapping around like an idiot and then as soon as I was ready it was throwing him into some clothes and out the door. I was feeling rushed and agitated at Husband for not setting the alarm, and also already a bit guilty that Son had to go to nursery again even though this was suppose to be "Our day". So I get to Nursery and one of the other kids who'd just been dropped off was having a little hissy fit, so in the commotion they manage to get Son off me and I wave and am out the door hearing as I walk away the cry of my Son.

It was only when I got half way to work that I remembered. I hadn't kissed and cuddled him goodbye! You may laugh but this is important too him. When I drop him off usually I put him down, he has a peek at the toys then comes and gives me a hug and asks for a kiss and then waves and is happy to go off and play, and if I don't do that he is upset all morning (according to the nursery staff).

I forgot! I forgot on a morning when I already had to rush him about and I forgot on a morning when he knows he isn't even suppose to be there! I feel like I failed him. I'm so anxious, I miss him, I feel so bad and I know he'll be grumpy with me when I pick him up as pay back.

Bad Mother!

I actually have a little post-it note stuck to my purse with a list of things I wanted to blog about but haven't found the time... Stupid life getting in the way. Ridiculous isn't it?