Roll on the Great British Bank Holiday. A delightful long weekend in which important, tired and hard-working people get to rest their weary heads, and less important but equally as tired and hard-working FTM’s get to, quite frankly, carry on regardless. A joyful time in which the Great British Public love to either a) inebriate themselves over three consecutive days, whilst manning a succession of dwindling tinfoil BBQs in the pissing rain, wearing T-shirt and shorts, b) spend quality time with husbands, wives, partners and children, engaging in cohesive and incredibly fun activities, such as Twister, Jenga and Junior Trivial Pursuit or c) a bit of both, more commonly known as boozed-up childcare in the rain. Whichever way you choose to spend your Bank Holiday though, one thing is for sure: The Great British Bank Holiday simply wouldn’t be the same without a Great British Queue.
Continue reading “The Great British Bank Holiday”
Happy April Fool’s Day to all you old Fools out there. Another ludicrous day to mark something or other ridiculous. With its origins dating all the way back to the 14th Century, apparently April Fool’s Day is good for one’s health – a tonic to encourage laughter, diminish stress and reduce the strain on one’s heart. That would be for all of 24 hours. And then it’s back to normal Folks – we can carry on being miserable buggers. Phew. Continue reading “Call me a Fool, but…”
So here’s the thing. For the past year or so, I’ve been involved in an arrangement. A you-scratch-my-back-and-i’ll scratch-yours type of thing. In fact, I could easily go as far as to call it a relationship. A mutually beneficial, reciprocal kind of relationship, which saw its inception at the school gates. At first I was dubious, but after several rides, I was hooked. And so was She. Soon there was little alternative – we’d be lost without each other. Continue reading “Car Share”
Recently, I was out on an adult-only evening which involved completing a meal in its entirety, whilst simultaneously engaging in civilised conversation, when my very adult friend asked if I would like to join her new book club. A book club? [I scoffed]. Now there’s a laugh. Isn’t that where grown-ups meet on a regular basis to unlock the hidden depths and common threads running through mutually selected texts, whilst nibbling on fancy flavoured nuts and tippling on tiny tots of sherry? My very adult friend took a sip of her robust-looking red, whilst I choked on my neon-looking pop and declined her invitation promptly. Captain Underpants and the Attack of the Talking Toilets would be lost on her club.
Continue reading “Diary of a Wimpy Mum”
Last week someone, who shall remain anonymous, came to me with a problem. It was quite out of character. And it was quite out of the blue. A shocking self-discovery that took myself and this someone, who shall remain anonymous, rather by surprise.
As problems go, it wasn’t catastrophic. There was no narcotic addiction, there was no other man, there were no gambling debts. Thank Goodness, there was no terminal illness, no manic depression, no mid-life crisis. In fact, this particular problem was less a problem and more a stark observation. And as with a common cold or a niggling cough, the problem was actually uncomplicated. Easily self-remedied, given half the chance. But by its very simplistic nature, it was all the more startling. Continue reading “Tickle Me Quick”
Since becoming an FTM, I figured that it was about time I stepped up to the plate and become an FTW at the same time. Yes, that’s right. A full-time-mum and a full-time-wife. A mean feat after nearly eight years handcuffed together in sworn allegiance. But with two for the price of one, my other-half was going to be overjoyed. So how could I deprive him any longer? Continue reading “The Full-time Wife”
It’s been a while. Have you missed me? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. For since we last met, I’ve become increasingly accustomed to using the F word. Whereas it’s not a word I would use frivolously, I’ve grown to feel rather comfortable with the way it just rolls of the tongue in an incredibly gratifying way. And loaded with an emotion and an enormous strength that no other word can afford, the F word knows how to satisfy me in a way that nothing else can. Not even you, who knows me so well. Or so you think.
For whilst you were gone, something happened to me. Something that took me fully by surprise. And despite only being teased by the transience of the moment, this particular moment was undeniably momentous. Not to mention memorable. So memorable in fact, that this singular moment can be pinpointed to a sleeping policeman on a bridge crossing over a motorway at ten-to-nine on a dreary morning in December. For it was whilst flying over this bump, amid the grinding groans of over-worked windscreen wipers, the monotonous moans of sluggish school-kids in the back and the distant drones of the tedious traffic crawling beneath me, that I discovered it. A fleeting feeling that catapulted me momentarily to a most coveted space somewhere beyond infinity, to the very top of the world. A soothing sensation that sent ripples of serene totality and blissful wholeness throughout my body. An epiphanic state of self-completion that incredibly I wasn’t aware I’d been lacking all these years. What became of me in that instant was an unforeseen but unequivocal sense of Fulfilment. The F word: fully-fledged, flawless and finger-lickin’ly good. Fulfilment: pure and simple, yet achieved almost by accident. What a coup! Continue reading “The F Word”
Sequel to “Trust me, I’m your Instinct” & “362 Day Resolve”
It wasn’t difficult to win me over. In fact, it was only a matter of time before I’d submit. Yet again. Not content with my lot. A sucker for some sensation. Maybe it was the risky scent of danger that lingered after last time, or the addictive taste of adrenaline that laced my lips and played temptress with my mind. Or perhaps it was the garrulous grumblings of a gut, whose deeply instinctive groans and aches had simply got the better of me again. Either way, Mills and Boon eat your hearts out, my appetite was wet. There was only one thing on my mind. And just when you thought you knew me so well, I’d ditched the status quo and was making headline news again. Well, about as headline as any Facebook status goes. Continue reading “Knowing is Believing”
Decision making is not one of my talents. Big ones, small ones – you name it, resolute decisions are just not my bag. And when it comes to having to actually make them, I can usually be found perched on the fence, dithering between the varying shades of green on either side. Decisive I am not. Continue reading “Trust me, I’m your Instinct”
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m feeling the pressure.
A pressure that can only be experienced at the turn of each year. One that has matured over time, this pressure is no longer about securing a drunken pub-lic snog or even whether or not I manage to stay awake until the clock strikes twelve. It’s about a whole lot more than this transient and seriously overrated moment. It’s about the year ahead of me and what the hell I’m going to do with it. But as Big Ben bashes it out and fancy fireworks flood the sky, I wilfully fling myself so far into the Land of Nod, that I just don’t give a toss. Well, for now anyway. Continue reading “362 Day Resolve”