Will you be having a merry Xmas?

Will you be having a Merry Xmas? There are families and friends planning excitedly for the perfect Xmas all over the world. Xmas dinner being organised like a military operation. The turkey's been ordered, the table decorations made and the drinks cabinet filled. No expense spared, a traditional Xmas is what people want so a traditional Xmas is what people will get!

Not in my house though I'm afraid. Hubs and son are working Xmas eve from six thirty in the evening until six thirty Xmas morning. They'll arrive home at about seven a.m, we'll open the presents we've bought for each other, hubs will then go straight to bed exhausted and son (age 20) will play with his toys (!) before he can't fight the tiredness any longer so just sleeps wherever he lands! In the meantime, I'll call my parents too wish them a happy Xmas and thank them for the Xmas jumper they've bought me (I love cats but a red jumper with white cats all over it , hmmm, I don't think so). As I'd of prepared the vegetables etc the day before there's not much else to do but sit and watch the telly (with a glass of sherry in hand), making sure that dinner will be ready for four pm when hubs and son should be awake.  We'll all sit happily tucking into a leg of lamb, (we're not keen on turkey) I say happily, hubs will be a bit miserable, not his fault but because he's still tired and son will be quiet as he's shovelling the lamb and his favourite mashed potatoes into his mouth as though he'd not eaten in days (and I can assure you that he's eaten, oh boy, has he eaten)! The next two and a half hours pass so quickly and off they go to work again and I'm on my own. Such fun, not! I'm not complaining though as I'm lucky compared to a lot of others.  •Those that live in poverty who have no money for a slap up Xmas dinner and presents for their loved ones.  •The homeless that rely on centres to open with unpaid good samaritans giving up their own time to help those worse off. •The men and women away fighting a war, there loved ones miles away trying to make the best of it.  •Widows and widowers alone. Even if they spend the day with family or friends they'll still feel alone.  •Those who've lost a child.  •Nurses, doctors, ambulance men/women, firefighters, security guards and all those that have to work on Xmas day.

There are many people that will spend Xmas day alone for whatever reason. I know from personal experience that Xmas can be the most magical time but also the most loneliest.  Wherever you are, whatever your circumstances, I'd like to wish you the best time that you can possibly have and remember there's alway someone worse off than ourselves.  If you're lucky enough to be with your loved ones at Xmas then enjoy every minute, eat, drink and be merry (or very drunk). 🎄Merry Christmas Everyone🎄

What's your guilty pleasure?

What's your guilty pleasure? Would you admit what it was, or is it naughtier to keep it a secret? If it gives us pleasure then why must we feel guilty? Is it because it's bad for us, is it embarrassing or do we enjoy it more because we keep it a secret?
Well readers, I'm going to tell you my guilty pleasures (and it's not watching the X Factor, I can promise you that) and then it'll be our secret and will bond us forever! 
Are you ready? Are you sure? Then here goes,
(1) I buy the yummiest of chocolate doughnuts that money can buy (that's in my local supermarket anyway) I don't share them, I freeze them and when hubs is on a nightshift, I take one out of the freezer and wait patiently for it to defrost. When it's defrosted I slowly nibble around the edge until I get to the gooey bit in the middle, then comes the best bit. I turn down the volume on my TV, pop it in my mouth, letting my taste buds do there thing then I  chew then swallow it. 
Heaven!

(2) I like putting brown (HP) sauce on my crisps (USA -chips). Pouring a dollop in the bag, giving it a good shake, and tucking in. The first time hubs witnessed me doing this he looked at me with such horror on his face and shrieked "urgh minging". I was surprised by his reaction, to say the least, as I thought everyone did it!  He never got over what I did and horror of horrors it got worse. My best friend came round one evening, we were just chatting and watching the soaps, when I asked if she was peckish she said she was so I brought three bags of ready salted crisps through from the kitchen. 
"Oh lovely" (I bet you know what's coming next) Emma said " have you got any brown sauce"?
I squealed and punched the air, hubs was lost for words, and that doesn't happen very often I can assure you!

(3) If there's ever any gravy left after a roast dinner, and in the privacy of my own kitchen, I drink it straight out of the jug! Well, I hate wasting food (that's my excuse and I'm going to stick to it)!

(4) I love ice lollies, (especially the orange flavour ones shaped like a pyramid that you buy not frozen called Jubleys). When I reach the checkouts, I say to hubs in a loud voice for all to hear,
"I've got some lollies for the kids" 
Hubs just looks at me and slowly shakes his head as if I've totally lost the plot!

(5) When I was a child and I used to help(probably hinder) my mum when she was baking. I'd stir the mixture pretending I was a tv chef. I still do!

Well, there you go, that's some of my guilty pleasures (not surprisingly all food related).
 Were you expecting naughty (over eighteen style) ones. Be honest, you were weren't you, you saucy lot!

Now you know some of mine, it begs the question, 
What's your guilty pleasure?

"Who are you"?

Who are you? I often wonder who reads my blog, who you are and what sort of life do you lead?  I'm a deep thinker and I think about YOU! Where are you now? At home on your laptop or on your mobile/cell phone? What country are you in? What's your story?

I'm a people watcher, I could be anywhere and I bring people to life by giving them a story. 
Sitting in a cafe there's an eclectic mix, an elderly couple resting there legs, two girls having a gossip, a student reading a book and a mother trying to amuse her daughter. 

Firstly the retired couple, I decide that they've been married for over fifty years, he was a teacher and she worked in their village post office and have one daughter who lives in a different city. They live in a bungalow, that's always spotlessly clean, the well dressed lady enjoys baking and making jams and chutneys which she sells for charity. The gent loves being outdoors, tending to his garden and has a bird table that he keeps full of mealworm, seeds and hangs fat balls of the side then sits in his conservatory reading his newspaper and watching the birds and squirrels. 
The two girls, the story i give them is, they're at college and still live at home with mum and dad  I've named them dumb and dumber, and they was talking loud enough for me to hear them. Dumb was talking about a boy she was going on a blind date with saying, "I don't know what he looks like apart from he's six foot tall, blonde hair and resembles Brad Pitt" 
Dumber says, quite innocently, "he might be Brad Pitt, you never know"
They both to clap, you know, that little clap that only excited females do, Dumb replies "I don't think so, he's with Angelina Jobie, isn't he?
"It's Jolie", Dumber (the cleverer one) says in a serious tone. 
"Who's Jolly"
"Her name is Angelina JOLIE"
They look at each other and giggle. 
Oh dear, I hope the Brad Pitt lookalike doesn't go for the intelligent type!
My attention turns to the student, a good looking boy, maybe aged about twenty,fair hair but a stylish dresser, I'm guessing mummy and daddy are well off and live in a house with eight bedrooms, they dress for dinner and father and son often wear dicky bows. The student looked at me looking at him so I quickly divert my eyes!
The youngster was sat with a colouring book and crayons that her mum had taken out her bag, choosing the red crayon she was lost in her own little world, just her and her imagination. 
Meanwhile, the woman with her, who I assumed to be her mum, pulled her phone out, that had been in her jeans pocket, and unlocked the screen. She had a look of distress on her face, rubbing her forehead and putting a lock of hair behind her ear. I watched her dial a number and couldn't help but overhear parts of the conversation. 
"Hi Michael it's me" she paused for a second, "no, I'm not ok, it's the funeral tomorrow, at two o'clock" a tear rolled down her troubled face, she carried on "I'm in the coffee shop, I thought I'd bring Hannah just to get us out the house for an hour, the detective came round this morning to tell me he'd be at the funeral too, thats lovely of him isn't it? I wish you could be there but for obvious reasons you're not" she chuckled a little. 
So I decided that she was talking to her lover on the phone, her husband had been murdered and the police suspect her, that's why they're going to the funeral not just to be 'lovely'!
I glance over at the student, he's looking intently at the (widow) woman chatting on her phone, he was people watching too! I wonder what life he gave me?

Have you ever thought who I am?
Have you given me a 'story'?
So, my dear readers, I'll still wondering, who are you?

Who will you upset this Xmas?

Who will you upset this Xmas?  Hubs and I always stress at Xmas. Doesn't everybody? It's all about making decisions. This year stuff the turkey, no seriously, stuff the turkey we're going to have a leg of lamb instead!

Deciding on what gifts to buy who, trying to remember who gave you what as a present last year, well you can't give them it back this year can you, can you? No? Oh ok then, I suppose I like magnolia bath cubes anyway. 
When you've decided on what you want to buy, you've then got to go out and buy it. I don't think there is a Poundland online is there? So I better fight the crowds.

I am not miserable about Xmas, off course I'm not but this year I don't have the energy, the motivation or the money. I've spent all our money on wine and raspberry vodka and honey rum and spiced rum and whiskey , oh and a sneaky bottle of port, three different shot style drinks (to warm your cockles on a cold day) and not forgetting four bottles of mulled wine! It's not all for hubs and I off course, heavens no, it's to offer to any guests that may call in over the holiday period. Yes it is, not that we get that many visitors but it's nice to offer them a choice, though most of our friends just drink beer. 
Note to self-must buy lots of beer.

This year we made it clear that we wanted a quiet Xmas on our own, in our own home, maybe we came across a bit mean when we told the relatives that this year we had ordered a leg of lamb that serves just three people, (myself, hubs and son) the butcher couldn't get a bigger one, honestly, hmmmm!
I'd like to put my Xmas tree up in the next few days but hubs hasn't been in the loft to get the box out yet, I look forward to just seeing the box, every year when we pack the decorations away we write a message each on it and we spend a few minutes looking back at ten years of messages. It's funny and romantic!

So far I haven't upset too many people, only about seven, and it won't be my fault that everybody doesn't want socks and that my mother in law is a smaller size than I realised, I thought the cardigan looked small for its size. Seven's not bad to upset (so far) my record is seventeen but that's another story!

So, who will you upset this Xmas?
 

What advice would you give to newly-weds?

What advice would you give to newly-weds. "Don't get married" I hear some of you shout! "Don't be so cynical" I shout back (I actually whisper as I've got a sore throat)!
I've been married twice myself. My love life would've made a good fly on the wall documentary but I'm delighted to say that my hubs is by far the best thing that ever happened too me (and he didn't have an affair after five years either)! 
My advice to newly-weds or those who are moving in together is-

•Wash the pots together
Then one person isn't left to do it all on there own feeling bitter and wondering how to make dog food pie for their partner. 
Also this brings the opportunity for some fun with the bubbles!
Those of you with dishwashers are missing out.

•Never go to bed on an argument.
One of you will find it very hard to sleep and will become even more angry when there partner is in the land of nod as soon as their head hits the pillow, snoring as loud as they can "just to piss you off". While the other one lays awake looking  on the Internet on their mobile/cell phone for the ingredients for dog food pie.  
Also, it's fun to make up at bedtime! (nudge,nudge)

• Stop the jealousy. 
Jealousy is an awful emotion that most people (not all) grow out of as they mature when they realise it's pointless. 
Think of it this way, we all look, maybe even flirt but that doesn't mean we love our partners any less. That works both ways. 
If the one you love is going to have an affair then jealousy won't stop them, in fact it's more likely to push them away.
Also, remember that they wouldn't be making this commitment unless they loved you. 
Maybe it's time you loved yourself!

• Respect each other.
If you're annoyed with something they've done then tell them. Don't go title tattling to your friends. 
Also, this is a way of getting to know each other and why they do that thing that annoys the hell out of you. Not dog food pies required!

•Make each other laugh.
You have to have fun together, life can be a serious business which needs lightening up. Find your sense of humour and use it. It's a good feeling when you make your other half really laugh out loud, and listen, you're laughing too. 
Also, have you heard that saying "laugh them into bed". Enough said!

Well, there you have it, that's my advice, take it or leave it! 
Just to let you know, I make my hubs laugh loads!(wink wink)
Also I've never ever made dog food pie!

So, what advice would you give to newly-weds?

Have you or would you ever sunbathe topless?

 Have you or would you ever sunbathe topless? I hadn't until last week but something came over me and I decided to see if I was brave enough to give it a go! Up until this moment I'd rather of bungee jumped over a river of snapping crocodiles! Even the thought of it would bring on an anxiety dream, you know the one where you're in a football stadium and you find yourself agreeing to streak for charity and when the crowd start laughing hysterically you realise it's at you and your wobbly bits, and it's live on tv! (no?just me then) But everyone was doing it, mostly the older generation! (oh heck. I hope I'm not perceived as being one of the older generation, I'm only 43)!

I'm trying not to stare at the other topless bathers or even look there way, it's enough to put you off your cheese & ham bun!  I don't know any elderly women who would go topless on a beach, mind you thinking about it, I don't know that many over 65's really well, only my mum, mum in law, my nanna and Gran the rest are old neighbours or the ladies i met when i visited my gran in an old folks home. 

My mum certainly wouldn't go topless, eewww, the thought makes me shudder, mother in law wouldn't even wear a bikini, my nanna, well, nanna's 94 years young and refused to even watch Baywatch, so we can safely say that a topless nanna would never, ever happen! Gran has passed away now, aged 92, she was a really good laugh, in fact we were always  giggling at something. She married her 2nd husband,Ted, when she was 74, he also lived in the old folks home where she did. The story was even on the local news. My dad and her other 4 sons all chipped in and bought them a double bed (double eewww) as a wedding present! 

I've realised something, I worked out why people read a book whilst they sunbathe, it's obvious, it's too give themselves a distraction! It's not a pretty sight but I start to have some respect for the old dears. They're fully aware how they look but they just don't care what other people think, fair play to them. We all gain confidence with age and going without your bikini top is the ultimate show of confidence. 

So, now I'm thinking to myself, if they can do it then so can I, but I daren't. Hubs is swimming in the sea so I supposed this was the opportune moment. 
"Go for it Chelle" I thought
So first I lay on my front and untie the back of my bikini, then I turn over, convinced I'm being looked at (well why wouldn't they I'm gorgeous!) I slightly open one eye as I gaze around, no one is watching. "relax" I think to myself. After a few minutes I felt fine, in fact I felt confident & liberated, feeling a breeze on my skin where I'd never felt a breeze before (though I was a bit concerned about sunburn), when all of a sudden I hear a camera shutter click clicking right in front of me! Oh my god, I thought, someone's taking my photograph, (I thought it. might be the paparazzi thinking I was a celebrity) I opened my eyes and let out a little gasp as I see this six foot male, with his back to me wearing tiny trunks, (yuck) taking photographs of his family! I chuckled to myself a bit, not much, just a bit!
Another ten minutes had passed and hubs had finished his swim. I must of sensed him coming towards me as I opened one eye  

to see him walking towards me in the style of James Bond (Daniel Craig) in Casino Royale (well, the sun was shining right in my eyes so I had to squint a bit).
"I'm not going to mention that you're topless, I'm just gonna say "well done" hubs said. 

I felt a bit exposed to start with but as the days rolled on I became more and more confident, I even sat up to read an English newspaper  (The Sun-how ironic). There was no school age children, older teenagers or even twenty something's in the vicinity of where we lazed on the beach. I think then the top would of stayed on!

So, have you or would you ever sunbathe topless?

Do we really have to accept it?

Do we really have to accept it? I remember when I was diagnosed, how could I forget? I was told by an old consultant, who had no "bedside manner" at all
After looking through my notes and getting me to touch the end of my nose (why? Did he think I'd drank a whole bottle of wine before the appointment), and check my reflexes, he sat behind his desk and said the following words to me that changed my life. 
"Well, it could be one of many things, it could be M.E but what's M.E anyway or it could be Fibromyalgia, hmmm"
I sitting there thinking "unbelievable"!
"So what do I tell my husband when he asks me your verdict"
"fibromyalgia, let's stick with fibromyalgia" he said, so matter of factly. 
I'd never heard of it so I asked him to write it down for me ( I was so forgetful, yes, even all them years ago)

Hubs & I left the hospital and I called my dad on what would now be an old fashioned mobile phone, a Nokia 3310 , if my memory serves me right. I told dad what the consultant said and he said he'd heard of it but knew nothing about it. Hubs and I got back home and while he made a cup of tea I put the computer on to google this unknown word "fibromyalgia". 

After reading several websites (I didn't believe the first one), I sat there and cried and cried, I couldn't accept what I was reading, especially the word "chronic" I'd not known before what it meant. For life, it meant I'd suffer like this for life. Over the following weeks I did research after research, I joined forums but quickly discovered that they weren't for me at that time. Everyone was so "oh poor me". Those on this forum told me I had to accept it but I didn't want to. 
What does "accepting it" mean to you? 
For me it meant giving up, accepting that I had to put up with it and not fight it. I suppose it was a turning point for me. 
My research led me to trying food supplements (magnesium & co-enzyme Q10) doing a bit of light exercise and eating healthy fresh food (nothing processed) I watched tv programmes and movies that made me laugh, I was working two jobs but I resigned from one to do more of the other which I adored as it was so manic and exciting, (the first and only female manager at the best racing circuit in the UK) I often worked on Adrenalin alone!

That was 10 years ago. My life has dramatically changed this year. I thought it wise to leave my job as I felt like I wasn't giving it my best anymore as my symptoms had become worse.  I knew I needed something to keep me occupied but couldn't think of anything but one night I was home alone and decided to write a blog, I've no idea where that thought come from, divine intervention maybe. 
So, there I was, laid on my sofa iPhone in hand and wrote my first blog. It was short, could've been better but I'd made a start.  Everyone I read it too enjoyed it, and there my love of writing began and it's gone from strength to strength. 

You never know where life's gonna take you but I do know one thing, that even though my pain and fatigue is worse now than its ever been I won't give up. Hell no!

So, do we really have to accept it?
Not me!

What would be your perfect daily journal entry?

What would be your perfect daily journal entry? Mine would go a bit like this-

Dear Kitty(my journals name, if it's good enough for Anne Frank then it's good enough for me)

I was woken early this morning by my phone ringing, the caller ID lit up with the name "Michael Bublè", "oh what does he want" I mumbled? I answered with a sleepy "hi Boob, what's up"? He wanted to run a new song he'd just wrote by me. After he'd sang it I gave him an 8 out of 10 and said my goodbyes rather hastily, he tends to go on a bit!
As I snuggle back down to sleep a text comes through from Will (Prince William) inviting me to his Grandmothers house for afternoon tea. I reply with the normal response of "which house"(?), as he always forgets to be specific, the answer I get back is "Buckingham Palace"


I tell him I'm pleased about that because I fancied a bit of shopping in Harrods(my son will only eat their brand of peanut butter) & Harvey Nicks, I'll probably hit Oxford Street as well. William asks if Catherine (his Mrs) could come with me, she's a good laugh so I told him she could.
I woke up hubs and congratulated him as he'd not snored or fidgeted constantly like he normally does!
After showering and a breakfast of Eggs Benedict, freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee, still in my bathrobe, my beauty therapist arrived to give me a full body massage before jumping into the jacuzzi. After my pampering session, I went into my walk in wardrobe and grab the first outfit I see, my hair had dried naturally and my make up took seconds to apply.
"You look totally gorgeous" hubs complimented, "you don't look so bad yourself" I told him. (We are the mutual appreciation society)
My son drove us the short distance to our smallish aircraft where our pilot was waiting (nice bloke called John Travolta).


We arrived in London half an hour later, the car was waiting, and we were soon in the big city
I met up with Catherine, and we shopped till we dropped (I didn't know she liked shopping at Primark). We did have a slight argument though, I wanted a KFC but she wanted a chicken nugget happy meal from McDonalds. Catherine won though because her bodyguard wanted a Big Mac (I joked with him saying that I thought he was "coming out" and wanted an overweight Scottish man as his boyfriend)
.

After the retail therapy it was time to pop in and see the queen. We were a little early and she was vacuuming the west wing, Catherine made her jump as Elizabeth was grooving away, whilst listening to her iPod, singing "Radio Gaga". The queens maid brought us some tea and battenburg cake as we sat down for a good old gossip. I had to laugh when Lilabeth (that's what I call her) was telling us a story about herself and Prince Phillip. The previous day they'd been dining with some dignitaries from Japan when Phillip started singing that 80's hit "turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, one really thinks so"! Oh Phillip, another gaffe!
In the evening we dined at The Savoy, lots of friends had joined us, then onto the West End to watch "Wicked"
 Ricky Whittle tagged along as he has a huge crush on me!


JT flew us home after that tiring day and we were snuggled in bed by midnight.

Yours
Michelle

So, what would be your perfect daily journal entry?

Do you prefer summer or winter?

 Do you prefer summer or winter? I much prefer summer, there doesn't seem to be as much laundry to wash or iron, maybe that's because clothes are smaller, it's also easier to dry the clothing, bedding etc! (I sound like my mother)!

Summer is the best! Listening to the birds singing, watching the wildlife in the garden (now I'm sounding like my Dad), barbecues, sipping wine while socialising in the garden, feeling the warmth from the sun in your face, lazing on the beach, music festivals, long country walks, summer gives us the opportunity to live. We live life to the full when's the suns shining! Warmer weather just makes us feel better, brighter and more motivated. We jump out of bed in the mornings, have a cool shower, throw on little shorts and a strappy top let our hair dry naturally, all tousled and sexy, bronzer, lipgloss, mascara a light summery perfume, it's easy! Isn't it?



Maybe in the movies! My reality is different. I wake up sweating as its far too hot! I drag myself into the shower, moaning that I've got to shave my legs and underarms, then it's time for the daily rummage in my wardrobe hoping I'll find something that (a) matches (b) hides my lumps and bumps (c) isn't a colour that shows wet patches under my arms when I get too hot. I attempt to dry my hair with the hair dryer on the coolest setting as I'm perspiring more now than I was before I showered! I then choke on the copious amounts of anti-persperant deodorant I spray hoping that it'll do the job I want it too, knowing full well that it won't.
Summer is painful, especially when I've fell asleep sunbathing in the garden and I awake to a bright red and sore nose and shoulders.  Well,I couldn't stay awake as I can't sleep at night because it's far too hot and stuffy! Roll on winter!

Oh winter, the nights snuggling up on the sofa with hubs in front of the fire, the flames dancing, hypnotising, bringing us the sense of calm and contentment, knowing all is well in our world. Feeling cosy in our beds with the highest tog duvet that we can find. Drinking hot chocolate, morning, noon and night. Enjoying hearty homemade soups and stews, not minding when we gain the odd pound or six, it just assists in keeping us warm under the cuddly big  wooly jumpers. Winter is very romantic isn't it? No?


Winter is NOT romantic, it's freezing!  I wear thermal everything, yes even long johns!  I climb into bed at night, hubs starts to complain, he doesn't think it's ok for me to put my cold feet on him, I remind him that he vowed when we got married "to have and to hold, keeping your feet warm, for better or worse" etc etc.
It's nearly impossible to get out of bed in the mornings, it's far too cold, "put the heating on" I hear you say, hubs says its not cold it's just my imagination! I wear so many layers of clothes I can hardly get out of a chair, and I'm sick to the back teeth of soup!
Whenever I attempt to leave the house first thing on a frosty morning, when the pathways are pretty, glistening white with frost, I can guarantee I'll slip over, and it always has to be in front of a crowd of people, that's right, I always have to have an audience of schoolchildren, well I suppose it cheers them up, it's obvious when you hear the sniggers!

So readers, have you decided, do you prefer summer or winter?
Give me autumn (fall) or spring anyday!

Jack Marshall-we've been touched by an angel.

Jack Marshall, we've been touched by an angel.
 That's how I feel, when I first started following Jack I couldn't of imagined for one minute how that" lil man" would effect me, as well as thousands of others. Jack filled me with so much emotion I wrote my first poem about him. I took a screenshot of many of his photographs to show my family and friends whilst I raved about what a brave and inspirational young man he was. 
I'm full of  gratitude and admiration for Jacks family for sharing him with the world through Twitter. He had a massive following of over eighty-five thousand. "#Jacksarmy" as we became known are all now aware now that Brain Tumours KILL more children & adults(under 40)than ANY other cancer. I didn't know that before.  
No words can express my deep condolences to his family. As a mum myself I can't begin to imagine what Tracy, his mum,is going through. But I'm sure through her grief she feels immense pride for both her sons.  I also hope she realises how Jacks Army has united together to send her, Jacks dad , brother and family so much love. 
Jack Marshall changed our world, we've been touched my an angel.  

Update 12 December 2011
I've decided to post the poem. It certainly wouldn't win any prizes but I wrote if from the heart. So for the sake of losing my first very amateur attempt here it is-

Soon we'll have to say our goodbyes
For now at least
Tears will flow
When you have to go
You're much to young to live this life
Cruel and painful, hurt and strife
We've gained so much
While you've pained so much

The love from you, to you
All consuming but I crave more 
More smiles, more words
Your hand on mine
Keep it there forever
Until the end of time
I can't say goodbye
Im thinking it 
As I can't speak 
You'd hear my cries.

Why do I mollycoddle my son?

Why do I mollycoddle my son? Oh I don't know? I just love looking after him, it's been my "job" for so long maybe I just don't know how NOT to mother him!  Never mind pre natal classes, there should be post teen classes!
My son isn't hard work tho, he asks nothing of me, but I'm afraid I've made my bed (and his) and I assume he expects certain things from me now. He doesn't though, he told me to leave jobs and he'd do them, and he probably would but after two days of waiting I can't stand it any longer so I end up doing it! I try not too I really do, I pace around the house, do a crossword, have a tot of brandy (medicinal purposes only of course!) or weed the garden!  

I wasn't meant to be like this! Grr, I don't really know how it happened, it just did so I want to apologise to his future wife. I am so very sorry for spoiling him, I truly am, please don't hate me for it, it's just that one minute he was seven years old and the next minute he's twenty!
The only thing in my favour is hubs! Hubs does a lot around the house and son sees this, so he's very aware that housework and cooking etc isn't just the woman's job, it's teamwork. 

When son was younger he loved to help. Either dusting or attempting to push the vacuum cleaner around, he did it with such gusto now he does it with no gusto whatsoever! I also think the word "procrastination" was thought up in his honour!
I used to make it into a game with Son, I'd time him to see how fast he could put his toys away, he always managed it in ten seconds! Yeah right! One weekend when he was seventeen hubs and I were away for a weekend and I made a game up where he received points for doing household tasks and bonus points for doing any tasks above and beyond the call of duty!(eg ironing, cleaning windows) Good idea? Yes? Erm no actually, tho the home was unnaturally clean, not a coaster or cushion out of place, it was what he did for his bonus points that had me gobsmacked beyond belief,  he decided it would be a great idea to paint his feature wall in his bedroom, "what's wrong with that" you think? Well, I tell you what was wrong with that, he'd painted it in "cedar" fence paint! Fence paint! For goodness sake, it was everywhere! On the carpet, coving and somehow it was even on his window frame!  He was so proud of that wall (it took 5 coats of paint to cover it when we redecorated)!
So regarding my funny, caring and  totally  adorable only child now he's all grown up (with facial hair and everything), tell me-
Why do I mollycoddle my son?

What do you think it'd be like to be a man?

What do you think it'd be like to be a man?  Once again, a tricky one as I don't want to come across as anti-feminist. I suppose I'm just an old fashioned girly girl, and am definitely pro-women. I fly the flag for sisterhood!
  I've often thought about what it'd be like to be male (I know, I think weird things sometimes).  The positive things about being a man is ... ermm, let me think, oh yes, I wouldn't struggle to open a bottle of ketchup! Also, ermmmmm, I can't think of anymore of the top of my head at the moment, I'll come back to the positives, but now for the negatives-
•The man has to remove the spiders, without killing them if course. 
•The man fetches the ice-creams whilst the ladies laze in the sun. 
•The man is the one that collects the take-aways. 
•Men as a rule can't multi-task
•I'd hate having all that body hair (especially the mass of underarm hair & furry legs)
•Having to understand us women (I don't know about you but I can, on occasion, be high maintenance)
•I expect hubs to know how to tackle any DIY task. 
•I expect men to like blokey drinks like ale, beer and lager, pints of course. (When I prefer sipping at fancy cocktails, the night I met hubs I had a Screaming Orgasm, the cocktail, naughty)
•I'm not embarrassed to cry at a movie. 
•I'd hate to have "mens parts" dangling between my legs whereas the female form is much more attractive (normally)
I think the negative list to go on forever, though it I had been born a man I'd no doubt have a long list of womanly negatives. I was also supposed to be going back to manly positives but I'm afraid after an overnight thinking session I couldn't come up with any. I look forward to any suggestions dear reader!
So, what do you think it'd be like to be a man?

How do we deal with bullies?

How would you deal with bullies? Harshly no doubt. Ive never been bullied, should I count myself lucky? Are those that get bullied, unlucky?
Surely it shouldn't be down to lady luck, it's not like winning the lottery is it! So, what is it down too, its certainly not the fault of the person being bullied. So it's  the bullies fault , right?
I think there's more to it than that, I mean, what turns an innocent child into a bully who terrorises those who aren't as strong, emotionally and physically.  Could it be the parents "bullying" their children? Teaching them negative behaviour? If not the mimicking of the parents, then what?  Maybe some of the bullies were once the victims themselves and was"picked on" by their peers?
We have to understand it to try put a stop to it, though sadly, I don't think it'll ever be totally wiped out. Though, there are schools that have zero tolerance, and rightly so.  
Should we be teaching pupils in the first two years of schooling about the effects it causes to their school friends?  How those guilty of bullying will find themselves excluded from school and possibly ruining their chances of their chosen career.
Something has to be done to protect those that suffer dreadfully at the hands of a bully, whether at school or in the workplace.  It's a difficult one!
So, how would you deal with bullies?

What would you advise your 16 year old self?

What would you advise your 16 year old self?  Goodness me, where would I start?  First and most importantly, that awful pink lipstick that I always wore, don't buy it, it was far to pale! Don't be a fashion victim either, just because it was the latest trend didn't mean you had to wear it, show of your figure, don't hide it under a massive coat (that makes me cringe just thinking about it)
Be nice to your mum and dad, their house isn't a hotel. Don't be lazy, tidy up after yourself. Don't take your family for granted, you've been blessed with a lovely family. 
Make the most of every opportunity, don't decline any invitation (unless it's with a boy that's a bit creepy).  Push yourself, do the best you can and have ambition. Oh and join a gym, get into the habit of keeping fit, don't let yourself go because you "can't be bothered", don't turn into a slob that parties too much (it was fun tho)
Don't let your heart be broken, life has a way of sorting itself out. Remember, things happen for a reason. Enjoy your life, enjoy being young, don't take it for granted. 
Every time you go out, laugh with your friends and put them first. 
Make the most of your education, be confident, you can do anything you put your mind too.  Think more carefully about how you want your career to pan out,  look to the future.  Did you know that you could be creative? No? Have a go at writing, a blog (a what?), a short story or even poetry! You might surprise yourself!
Try not to be quite so sensitive and sentimental, try to man up a bit, because it only hurts you. Carry on being kind to people though, that's a good quality. 
But most of all be happy, your life will have it's ups and downs, you will get through it and it will make you stronger. You're also gonna love being a mum, don't change a minute of that. And when you meet a good looking man called Pete, well all I'll say is you'll feel like life's began again for you!
But hey, you're only 16, you wouldn't listen anyway. If I remember rightly, you all ways thought you knew better, didn't you?(you little madam)
So, what would you advise your 16 year old self?

What shall I wear today?

"What shall I wear today" I ask myself, that daily question that's not always easy to answer. Today was easy as I wasn't intending leaving the house, jeans and a t-shirt will do. Yes, but which t-shirt? I have lots, all different colours. What colour do I "feel" today?( Well, I don't own a grey one). I think you should be able to wear different colour tops that have different mood meanings-:
Black- sexyish(never been worn)
Yellow-happyish
Grey- moody, don't talk to me
Orange-a bit confident
Pink-attentive (rarely worn)
Purple-Pre-menstrual (wolflike)
Blue-I'm ok, but a bit tetchy
Green-inpatient, very impatient
Brown-angry
Lilac- Get off,  I've got a headache
Multi-coloured-Beware, mood changeable 
The men would have to remember what colour meant what meaning, I think hubs would have to have a list on the fridge as he'd never remember!  Imagine though if your bloke was colour blind, and he thought you were wearing black (sexy) when in fact you'd worn the brown (angry) one! Whoops!
It's a good job I don't have an "occasion" to often, I own two dresses (that aren't too tight). I like wearing a dress but I'm not so good in high heels. I was in my younger days, but lately I've worn either pumps, training shoes, flip-flops or slippers, so when heels go on my confidence goes down as I imagine myself walking like a very drunk drag queen! (YOU'RE imagining me now aren't you, stop laughing)!
Men don't seem to have this problem with clothes though  do they? Why don't they? Is it because they don't care what they wear or maybe us ladies care too much? Are we trying to look for perfection or to look better than the other females? Our other half  just doesn't  understand, do they, I can't imagine why? So you've had to ask yourself "What shall I wear today"? (You actually said it out loud and your partner heard you and has done a runner)! It's Jeans and a t-shirt then! (Hmmm, what colour)?

Should I go on a diet?

"Should I go in another diet?" I ask myself that on a regular basis but never do anything about it as I actually don't believe in dieting! 
For many years I had a go at it, not properly, but with my limited knowledge ,I gave up very quickly. Why was it as soon as Monday morning came round and I awoke with the best intentions but it all went wrong.  I had to many obstacles get in my way! For instance-

Hubs was on a day off and had to have a full English breakfast (all fried of course) and my bowl of 
Bran flakes didn't look very appetising! Diet over ! 

My favourite biscuits had been half price at the supermarket and it would be senseless not to buy any, promising myself I would only have one a day as a treat as long as I jogged a few laps around the garden to work it off.  This is what really happened- I didn't have just one, I actually ate half the pack with my "just one more won't hurt" attitude and running around my garden was out of the question as it was chucking down outside, monsoon style ( it was spitting with rain and I could've dodged the drops!) Diet over! 
I have a bowl of Bran Flakes, only eat half because I don't like them and because I'm still hungry I devour 4 slices of hot buttered toast! Diet over! 

I admit, I'm not the best dieter in the world. I find the D word makes me obsessed about food and I can't stay out the fridge. But I'm not that much overweight (UK12) and I understand there are those that follow diets successfully. I take my hat off to them because we all know being overweight is not the healthiest way to live, we're not stupid but there are also sometimes underlying issues, medical or psychological, I understand that too.
But I think that "they" think  we are stupid! So many guidelines, eat your 5 a day, fish twice a week etc etc!
How did they manage years ago before we were told what to eat, they survived!(But years ago, McDonalds, Burger King and KFC wasn't in every town!) 
I think we all know what's healthy and what's not. (Slimming clubs are helpful , we have the internet or your Dr could refer you to a dietician if necessary)  I try to follow an 80/20 rule 80% healthy 20% naughty  as after I  was properly following a diet plan and lost the weight and came of it I slowly regained the weight plus a bit more! (My fault) Where did our obsession with dieting come from anyway? (That's a whole other blog)
So should I go on another diet? Not on your Nelly! (Now, where did I hide that chocolate!)

When do we turn into a grown-up?

Ok, so how DO we know when we become a fully fledged grown up? Is it when we reach 18?  In my case not (and probably all yours too), I worked full-time (one point for grownupness), but I went out every night, spent all my sort of hard earned money on alcohol, nearly always had an hangover and treated (mum and dads) home like a hotel.  Hmmm, that doesn't sound like I showed any sort of maturity at all now, does it?
Aged 21 I left home to move in with bloke, I felt more of a grown up then, even more so because bloke was so not.  At 22 I had my son, now I have to grow up a bit and be a mummy, just before son was one bloke left. So at 23 I moved house to somewhere bigger and better. I had a dining room, surely that makes me a grown up?
Life carries on, with and without grown up actions and before you know it you hit thirty. A very grown up and mature 30! So to celebrate, myself and a large group of friends went to see a male stripper and drank far too much sparkling wine! 
At 32 I meet hubs on another night out (I only partied once a month now) 
We still look back on that night and laugh as we were both very intoxicated. In time I make a grown up decision and son and I move into his house. Now I'm settled with my new family, definitely grown up. 
It became more apparent of how childish I could be  when we went to sons open evening at school. I chewed on chewing gum the whole time, well we wasn't allowed when I was at school. Then when we were sat opposite his form teacher listening in a mature manner to everything he said,  until teacher looked the other way, then me and son pulled faces at each other (hubs got mad with us, oops)!  My excuse, put me in a school again and I'm back to being fourteen and rebellious, I can't help it!
Hubs has always said that I'm the most immature person he's ever met. I hold that title with pride,  as I hit my  forties. I'm 42 now, which makes no sense to me at all! For example, we visited my sister in law the other day, she's just moved into a new home with her partner (he's called Charles and he's very posh), she showed me around with her daughter and hubs in tow. Her master bedroom is lovely with a beautiful view over the lake, boats sailing passed and the most gorgeous of homes on the opposite side. So what do I say?  " This is a good place to flash from"  I then lift my top up to show the neighbours and sailors my bra,  my niece (aged 20) couldn't believe what I'd done! Hubs laughed saying "I can't take you anywhere" and sister in law was in fits of laughter! 
So, when do we turn into a grown-up? Seriously, as I have no idea!

How do we choose a perfume?

Perfumes are a minefield, there is so many to choose from, it's nearly ridiculous!  Eau de parfum? Eau de toilette? What? I just want a spray that smells nice. Have you seen them all in the department stores?  It's near on impossible, you literally couldn't get around them all to try. 

So we have to do a bit of research first. It helps to have already come across the aroma on a friend, a young friend of course, you don't want to smell like an old lady (lavender is definitely out then?!). But imagine how horrified you'd be if she said it was Charlie of Lace ( do you remember those 80's scents that cost £2.99). So we'll forget that plan!
Next,  do we like floral or a musky tone?  Would we wear it day or night, (all us ladies have a special perfume that makes us feel like a sex kitten , don't we?), to work or to play?!! Ok, if we're paying that much then it's got to be for play!

We've made a decision on musky(not musty), we've all seen the adverts that make no sense! Why not advertise a perfume with oaky undertones (sounds like an ale), by a good looking oozing sex type of a man (or a fireman) just to inform us that if we wear the said perfume it'll give us guaranteed results! "Sold" I say!

I understand that the perfume companies are trying to sell us an image, if we wear their expensive smell then we also should be a size zero dripping in diamonds. Yeah whatever! Do we fall for that, we must do otherwise they'd be no marketing from them, though I always like a free sample!

It must be a hard task for our partners to buy us a perfume. "Who wore it" we ask, "oh, did she now?". Whether it's his mum or his secretary, he can't win, they HAVE to know what we like. 
So, how do we choose a perfume? Pftt, you tell me?

What shall I cook tonight?

"What shall I cook tonight" I ask hubs,( I don't know why I ask him as he always gives the same answer) he looks at me with a blank look on his face, he wasn't even listening! I repeat the question and he answers like I thought he would "don't mind", arghhh!

I take a look in the fridge then freezer (I'm bound to find something in there as it nearly full), I pull out every drawer, huffing and puffing, trying to make hard work of it, but there's nothing I see I fancy, so I throw myself back on the sofa, sighing so hubs takes notice. Plan didn't work, he's watching a war documentary on the History channel ( he changed channel whilst I had my head in the freezer-the cheek of it).
I tell hubs that I've no idea what to cook tonight, "we'll look later" is his response. Why can't I be more laid back like he is? I huff again!

I can't relax, this problem is a biggie and I need an answer so I text my friend and ask her what she's having for tea, I wait in anticipation for a reply, hoping she'll give me the inspiration I need, my phone chimes, I read the text "no idea "!
I gaze around the room, not sure why though, I'm hardly likely to find inspiration by looking at the mantelpiece, sideboard or curtains.

 So I head back to the kitchen, I'll make a cup of tea(that's the answer to everything). So I put the kettle on and gaze out the window, feeling very sorry for myself. 
Hubs had followed me in, he opens every door that has food behind it, including the stash cupboard (that's the cupboard we use to hide food from dearest son)," I don't know either" he says, (what blooming use was he?) I sigh some more. 
Nights like this are very frustrating, "how about a takeaway" hubs smiles, proud of himself as he's resolved the problem! Takeaway?
"I know" I squeal " I'll make a chicken curry" 
Problem solved, until tomorrow!

What's on your Bucket List?

We're never too young to have a bucket list, you know, the things you want to do before you kick the bucket!  My list is very long and I'm pleased to say some's been ticked off! 

I've visited Manhatten, waved to New York from the top of the Empire State, rode in a horse & carriage around Central Park, ( all on my 40th birthday) a big tick for that! Naked painting, tick! Rode pillion on a very fast motorbike, tick. 

Some of the items on my list are also on hubs too  (I've told Hubs that kissing a girl is not on my list)! For example, we want to drive around naked in a car, seeing a person (not young or elderly) walking along minding their own business, hubs would drive slowly at the side of them whilst I hit them with a big wet fish! (that sounded hilarious when we came up with the idea after seeing it on a TV advert, now it just sounds like we're a bit strange!).

A lot of the things we'd like to do is travel and see all the magnificent sites that the world has to offer (have any of you seen "An idiot abroad"- it's hilarious). 

When we pass over to the other side (I  mean die) I suppose what's important is what we've left behind, what family and friends think of us. I would of liked to have been famous for doing good things or inventing that product that would change our lives or for finding a cure for Aids or cancer but sadly I'm not that clever! I know  100 years after I've gone I will of been forgotten, as though I'd never existed.  That's sad but a fact of life, I'll just be a name on a family tree. So another newly added item to my bucket list is to leave something behind that I'll be remembered for, I better start thinking about that now, I'm only young (ish) but I think it may take a while!

 I need ideas about what to add to my list,  (I'm still not gonna kiss a girl!) not necessarily sensible(or even legal) but as I hope I've got plenty of years left I'll like to fill them with exciting, funny, strange, even bizarre experiences(I say that now but I might chicken out).  I suppose my list could go on forever as when we reach different ages we would maybe aspire to do or try new things. Hmmm!
So, what's on your bucket list?

Why me?

Why me?

Who'd of thought it? Not me that's for sure. I always thought things like this happened to other people, stronger people who could somehow cope with it, not me, I always thought of myself as, well, not necessarily weak but definitely not strong, I mean , get this, I can cry at anything, from the obvious sad movies to watching the coffins coming home of our boys who've been killed at war (that's justified sadness, not really to be compared with weepy movies).  What I'm trying to say is, I'm often over emotional, too nostalgic (no matter how much I wish it, my grown up son can't be a toddler again, not even for 24 hrs).
Certain folk have to deal with really tragic situations in their lives, finding out that yourself or a loved one has a terminal illness must be the worst thing ever. So I should think my self lucky!
Lucky that I have the most kind, caring and nearly perfect (well, he does snore) husband, a son I totally adore, great family and friends. In the whole scheme of things I have it all!  What have I got to complain about? 
Nothing actually because I've realised I am a strong person, in fact, stronger than most. Show me a problem and I'll find a solution. I will  (nearly) always look on the positives in my wonderful life and try not to dwell on the negatives. To those of you that are regular readers of my blogs will know, I have a sense of humour, I like to see the amusing, funny, take my mind of it side of things.  I'm a happy person, I'm always smiling, people have even commented on it. 
But I have a chronic pain condition,  for 8 years I've hardly had a day or night without some sort of pain. It has affected my life as unfortunately this pain is real and can't be ignored.  My strength is ever present because of a condition called Fibromyalgia (pls google it). This syndrome won't beat me though, I refuse to let it get the better of me, my symptoms often get worse so I just have to deal with it (it helps to have the support of my family, friends and twitter friends). 
I'm alive, I'm not terminally ill, but I'm also not making light of this relentless condition, a lot of people who suffer from it really do suffer. Normally my symptoms are ok, I can deal with it. 
 I don't want sympathy, heavens no, just for you to be aware of the not very pleasant fibromyalgia. 
Why me? Why not me!

Could you be a housemate on Big Brother?

Could you imagine it? Being watched 24/7 by a tv audience, every move you make, word you spoke, fart you farted(by the way, I don't fart)nose being picked(I don't do that either)itch being scratched, everything being scrutinised by the public, and your mum, and your ex(he better not sell a kiss & tell) and your nana! The list goes on, all those people who you dont want to know your business(including that teacher who said you'd come to nothing, well look at me now, I'm on the telly). The thought makes me shudder!

You'd meet all your housemates, obviously there would be a mixed bag, all very different. I would be the slightly older posh girl, with good manners who everyone loves as she loves all of them, I'd happily to the lions share of the housework, complete all the tasks and make everybody laugh(yeah right)!

I don't think I could live with that amount of people, some would smell, some would try to belch tunes, some would scratch there nether regions and one would just stare at you with starey type of eyes wearing thick back eyeliner and black lipstick and calls himself "Death".

No, thinking about it I couldn't be a housemate apart from the fact that my son would disown me, I just couldn't do it. There are certain things I like to do privately, things I don't even do in front of hubby(I'm not going to say what cos then he'll know). I take my hat of to those who do though, they all think they're going to be famous forever though and I do feel for there parents. But as a people watcher, I'll love every minute watching the goings on in the house, who fancies who, who hates who and who's a gorgeous hunk!

In the UK we've just had the celebrity version and a traveller(gypsy)won it! Tomorrow it's the normal(I say loosely) Big Brother which I'll be glued too(sorry hubs). I'm looking forward to seeing who I'll totally detest and can moan about for the next few weeks until they get voted out(I don't waste my money voting), and when they're interviewed afterwards I realise they weren't that bad after all and wishes they could go back in the house(I'm never satisfied)!

So, even though I could never be a housemate(even though it'd make me probably the most famous of housemates in the history of BB)my life will definately revolve around it! Well, I am strange, sad, slightly weird and totally immature, surely you expect nothing other!

What do you look for in a partner?

Blonde or dark? Tall or short? Blue eyes, facial hair, big muscles, big other things (feet, naughty). We all have a type we fancy and we're all different with our likes and dislikes. Some people have some odd things that they find attractive, a friend of mine would only date a guy if he wore a vest!
We start as teenagers, realising what we find attractive or not, whatever the case may be. I once dated a boy called Alan who I thought was really good looking and funny but what put me off was he ate a vol-a-vant with HP sauce on it (yuk) and then kissed me! Disgusting! I could've thrown up, so I dumped him! It hasn't put me off HP sauce, but I would never have it on a vol-a-vant!
I had a couple or so(10)boyfriends as a teen, all very different. I obviously hadn't worked out my type! My friends hadn't either, I think because we had posters on our walls of pop stars that we could of been looking for their dopplegangers, but I have to say, I never met anyone that looked remotely like John Travolta or Simon Le Bon. Which makes me wonder if we set our sights too high. Not that we are not attractive enough (I'm gorgeous) but the pin ups don't really exist in real life.
I used to like the tall, dark & handsome type but my hubs isn't tall or dark (in fact, he's nearly bald)but he is handsome, and funny, and he doesn't wear a vest!
I don't think there's anything wrong with having a "type" but if you only religiously stick to that, you're missing out on who could be the love of your life!
Not all men look like Michael Buble, and would we really want them too,(well, maybe) off course not, I met hubs and something just clicked. We understood each other, trusted and fancied each other, laughed all the time. So after all those years of wondering what I was looking for in a partner, it was easy, because whatever "it" was, my hubs had it!

How much do you like supermarket shopping?

I'm going to take a wild guess that the majority of you don't like supermarket shopping! I know that I'm odd, strange maybe, some say (in a polite manner) that I'm a bit quirky, I'm not really sure what they mean by that but I just smile anyway but I love supermarket shopping! It's makes me feel very grown up(I've even been known to put my best dress on for the occasion) I wander up and down the aisles, reading the back of the products checking the calories, fat, salt content etc feeling very proud (and slightly smug) that I've chosen the healthiest option. It's very important that hubs, son and myself eat fairly healthy, as I'm the main shopper and chef in our house I don't want to feel guilty if they have issues due to the food I buy, ( and i want to say right now that i dont call my husband "hubs" because it rhymes with tubs!!!!) it's a big responsibility you know! A grown up responsibility! Wherever I push my trolley (it hasn't got a wonky wheel, yay) the same couple are always in my way. They are looking at food labels as well, I say "excuse me please" as I reach for the (yummy) full fat milk, and the look of horror on their faces at me as they go for the skimmed milk makes me feel less of a grown up and totally inadequate so I quickly reach for the Soya milk, virtually fat free butter (?) and cottage cheese (vomit). I smile back at them feeling smug again (I also stick my tongue out at the perfectly behaved child that's with them when they're not looking). I totter of in my (too) high heels to the freezer dept leaving them with a crying infant! Singletons mill about at the frozen ready meals for one, the females obviously think this is a good place to find themselves a hunky single man to chat up but unfortunately for them its a ratio of 6-1, and that poor frightened looking young man senses what's occurring and grabs a sweet & sour chicken (for2) and makes a dash for the checkouts! Supermarkets are fun! Whichever aisle you walk down there are different personalities, different ages and different temperaments! I always feel sorry for the single mum with 4 kids all under 5 trying her best to get them to behave and the elderly lady whose obviously been widowed struggling to reach the top shelf. So next time you do your weekly/monthly shop, take a look around you. Give the single parent a smile, reach the top shelf for those who struggle to reach and if you're single, well hang about down the chilled aisles because there you get a better class of ready meal! You get me!

Would you like to be a millionaire?

I keep telling hubs that I'm gonna make us millionaires! How? I have ideas, not brilliant or even unique ideas but ideas all the same. "Just hurry up about it" pleads the hubby.
Idea No.1-Be the next J K Rowling, write a series of books for children that adults of a certain kind would read as well! I need an idea for the book tho, ummm, I better start thinking!(What about a boy called Barry Hotter that goes to a special school called Warthogs and he's taught magic and how to fly in a game called Baditch-I'm a genius)
Idea No.2-Sell my body, I don't mean prostitute myself, I'd be bankrupt v quickly! (I'd pay them not too) I mean to medical science, but thinking about that, they'd probably want me for free and dead!
Idea No3-I haven't got a third idea but I'm working on it!
I don't actually think I'll ever be wealthy, I'll never know what it's like to go to charity functions, or do lunch, or any of those other pastimes that rich people do!
Do I care? No(yes)of course not. I am rich in other ways. I have a hubby who totally loves me as much as I love him, the bestest son, supportive loving parents, great friends that I can rely on, a lovely home and plenty of food in the cupboards. Maybe if I was loaded my hubs would be an alcoholic, my son a drug addict, (I'd still have loving supportive parents)and friends that would only want me for my money!
I'm guessing being wealthy is hard work, and as a procrastinator that's not a good thing!
So, I think for the time being, I'll be satisfied with having "just enough".
I think just enough of everything is all we need to live a happy and contented life!
Isn't it?

How do you know when you're getting old?

So, how do we know when we're getting old? I ask that question because I think I'm at a certain age when the answer is obvious! Off course I'm not old!
Am I going grey? Yes (every day I was counting two more grey highlights so I dyed it "darkest brown" though it does look black, so I've decided I'm the cross between a biker chick and a rock chick).
Do I like pottering in the garden? Yes but that doesn't mean I'm old, does it?
Do I wake during the night just to use the toilet? Yes, but that's because I have cocoa before bed!
Am I turning into my mum? Don't be bloody (mum wouldn't use that sort of disgusting language) stupid! I don't care what my (nearly 21 year old) son says, I'm not turning into his grandma, I hope he wets his self now, he should've " tried "before he went out!
Do I go to bed late? No, but that's just because it'd put me out of my routine.
Am I forgetful? Well, sometimes maybe (not all the time as hubby thinks)!
Do I easily get confused? I make mistakes sometimes that's all, most people get Tuesday's and Thursday's mixed up, don't they?
Do I carry emergency pants in my handbag? Doesn't everyone, my mum does so I guess everyone does, don't they?
So, my conclusion after all that is? Erm, maybe a little bit but only a little bit.
Tomorrow I'm going to out and do something rebellious, just to prove to you all that I am not getting old, unless it rains of course, and then I'll wait for another day!
Me old? Huh! (oh blast, my cocoa has gone cold).

Why do we worry so much?

I can lay awake for hours, just worrying. Why? I ask myself do I worry so much? Is it because I was born a worrier, or is it because it runs in the family (please let me blame my mum). For whatever the reason may be, it's the one part of me that I'd like to change (as well as my nail biting habit)(oh, and the way I always get hiccups when I'm eating in a restaurant) (blooming Nora, I wish I'd not started this as the list is endless). Where was I? That's right I was worrying!
Worrying doesn't mean problem solving and it certainly doesn't mean brushing it under the carpet. No, I have to think about it, over and over again. Maybe I think I'll have a lightbulb moment and know exactly what to do to sort out the said predicament. But I just let it, that's right I allow it to consume me until I realise that my eyebrows have nearly met in the middle and my jaw is so tight it's beginning to ache!
Worrying is painful, physically and mentally. It's not nice, and there's nothing to gain from it apart from frown lines (and that's something else to worry about).
But where is it getting me? No where, that's where, apart from the shops for a hair dye because even more grey is shining through!
Worrying isn't getting me anywhere, is it? No it flipping well not! So my new resolution (even though it's not new year)is to stop worrying!
That's right, decision made, no more wring, and do you want to know why? It's because I'm going to trust fate. It's done a good job for me so far. What's going to happen will happen, it doesn't matter how much I worry. So, I'm not going to take responsibility for certain issues, the only thing I can do is leave it to fate. Things always seem to work out fine in the end as I suppose everything happens for a reason!
I'm free, liberated! I'm a worry-free zone! It feels very good as well.
However long it lasts!

Will you hit the bottle?

The Sun Newspaper (UK) has an article today, " Stress really does make your hair turn grey, boffins have confirmed ". Oh my god, I thought. All the illnesses and diseases that have reared their ugly heads (!) and do not doubt countless hours work and obviously it cost money (who paid)to find out that you turn grey with stress!
So how many of us could of told them that and saved them all that money and time.
Good old George Clooney, gorgeous though he is (and he knows it), he's grey! Who cares? Do you or I? Well, I don't really give two hoots what colour hair he's got. I wonder if Georgie (my pet name for him) really cares! I doubt it, I imagine he's over the initial shock of finding the odd stray grey! He's grown older gracefully, (I'll tell you right now, I won't be) shown his maturity and I for one salute him for that! (just a thought-do you think he dyed it grey-no, that's just silly!!) I couldn't imagine The Cloon laying awake at night stressing that he'll have less fans than that Brad (swoon) Pitt guy because of having more grey
Our changing hair colour is something the majority of us have to face. I'm going grey, and I should be proud of each grey strand. I've blooming earnt them! Men, they say, look more distinguished and women, well we can dye it!! (if you ladies want to embrace it then you jolly well can). But me, well, I'm gonna hit the bottle!

Insomnia, what's that all about?

Have a hot bath,(that just makes me sweat)hot milk, cool bedroom, or try reading. Many of the ideas I've given to insomniacs, they must be doing something wrong. It's not natural to have a busy day, go to bed exhausted to suddenly feel wide awake! Just put your head on your memory foam pillow (my advice again), close your eyes and you WILL go to sleep. It's easy for goodness sake, it's all in your head!
Ummm ok ok I was wrong, I'll admit it, I didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I'm big enough to admit I was wrong. Wrong like Mr wrong on national wrong day in Wrongsville! How do I know that? Because I'm an insomniac, yes, my names Michelle and I can't sleep at night! I know, I know, I had all the answers! Well, I thought I did and you know what thought did, (yeah, couldn't sleep because they were too busy thinking).
So I lay awake for hours, I've given up on the useless advice that I thought was pure genius. I now know that just putting your head on your pillow, (whichever type of pillow, cos it doesn't matter)isn't enough!
Insomnia is real, it's tough to live with but you live in hope that you'll just "get over it"
So next time someone tells you that they're having trouble sleeping, just listen to what they have to say, without trying to give advice when you don't really know anything about it.
Hot milk? Shuff it where the sun don't shine!!!

What do you do on a Saturday?

So, what do people do on a Saturday? When I was a young, (I still am) it was shopping in the morning, first into the city, we always went to the same shops (I’m surprised the old men with dirty hair and clothes with a tin of cheap strong lager in there hands didn’t recognise us) at what seemed like exactly the same time each week. I spent most of the morning deciding which can of pop to choose from Littlewoods foodhall , (I always felt like one of those old men if I chose the shandy) it always ended either Vimto or Tizer! I still hate making decisions (I’ve just realised that’s where my loathing of decision making comes from). Next, it was onto the fish and chip shop, we’d take them back to the car where my clever mother had packed a bag of salt, vinegar, sauces and bread & butter. I had to share whatever my mum was having, which I thought at the time was totally unfair but now I realise it would of taken too long for me to decide what to have to eat! Sneaky parents!
After the picnic(well, that’s what I used to call it) it was onto the supermarket, where, if I was a good girl I could choose a comic ( oh my god, more decisions)! What seemed like an eternity ( probably an hour) we finally went home! Hurrah! (I can’t drink anymore of my Tizer though, I wished I’d got Vimto)

Can I still date the husband?

I should be excited,  have butterflies in my tummy,  thinking of nothing else but, ( don’t be silly) its a date with hubby!  We’re going out for a meal and a few drinks (well, it saves me from cooking).  Its time to get ready, so what do I wear?  I dont need to impress, (its only hubby after all) I’ll have a bath first, relax in the bubbles!  Oh no, no bubble bath/shower gel left, never mind, I’ll use washing up liquid   instead!                                                                                                                                         

As I lay in the bath my mind starts to wander and questions come to mind.  Why aren’t I excited?  Why don’t I want to wow him with a killer outfit?  Where has the “woman” in me gone?  Is he not the most important man in my life?  Of course he is, damn it!   ”Right hubby”, you ain’t gonna know whats hit you!

I am now a woman on a mission, relaxing time over, its time to get to work.  “Where’s my razor?”  ” Where’s my tweezers?” “Wheres my nice smelling moisteriser?”   “Where’s my best pants?”  By the time I’m finished he won’t know what hit him.  I don’t want to turn into someone that doesn’t care, thats not who hubs married.  Would I want him to let himself go, and not make an effort for me, of course not. 

This date is as important as our first date (all them years ago) as, lets face it, he is the love of my life!

NB Date a success apart from my irratable bowel syndrome played up and I was in bed (alone) at 10pm.

Why do we holiday?

Why oh why oh why do we spend hundreds, sometimes thousands of pounds/euros/dollars for a holiday? Those 2 weeks away, sometime 1 week or maybe just a sneaky weekend mean such a lot to us. Then the questions start. What will I wear to travel in? Will it be scorching hot when I get off the plane? Which shoes? Jewellrey? Which factor sun protection should I take? How many pair of pants? Dilemma, dilemma, dilemma! Then theres the travel insurance, airport parking ( or do you think someone will give us a lift to the airport)? Oh god, I haven’t got hubby any trunks. I better go shopping!
But first, I better book the holiday, online of course! Where to? “I know, let’s go to the same place as last year, that’s easier”, Book flights, “nearest airport” hubby says “seeing as I’ll be driving” I try to explain if we go to that airport that’s 40 miles further we’ll save £3.59, bargain! But no, he’s arguing now ( he’s the one that likes to save money) so I give in (as usual)!
Destination, sorted. Airport, sorted (I won the argument about having a meal on the plane, ha). “Ok” I say, “I’ll do the preparation shopping” (including embarrassing teeny tiny trunks)!
Yeah! Party time, it’s sorted! “What” I screech “bloody WHAT” “I forgot what!” Oh my god, off to the post office now to change the money from pounds to euros!
Is that it? Am I sure? Not sleeping now, worrying about what I’ll forget! Exhausted, totally exhausted, I’m so exhausted I can’t speak or walk or sleep. I’ve even forgotten my name.
It’s ok though, because tomorrow we’re going on holiday!
Thank goodness, I need one!
“Pardon me? Run that by me again”
“The airlines gone what? BUST? NOOOOO!

Menopausal?

Hot flushes = sweating. Emotional = moody cow. I had all the symptoms, I must be starting “the change of life”. It was a given, I’d of put money on it. Why else would I be perspiring, I looked like I’d dunked my head in a barrel of premium lager. I attempted to put my not particulary thick glossy mane (it’s shortish and fine) in a teeny tiny pony tail to keep my neck cool (husband liked it, a bonus). I spoke to mum (and dad) about it and my annoyingly always right mother advised a trip to my GP. I did as I was told, I couldn’t keep snapping at hubby for using the wrong salad dressing (don’t you men know anything, grrr) or opening the bedroom window a millimetre to wide when I seriously look like my face is melting in front of his eyes. Sexy? Of course not, it’s the damn menopause, what do you expect(*shouting)?
I made the appointment, I opened my heart to my very nice female doctor, she’ll understand, she looked old (about 50). She was probably hot flashing(the technical term) as we spoke and knew one salad dressing from another (*shouting again). “Have a blood test” the fabulous Doc says.
One blood test later, having to put up with a massive bruise where the needle went in (nauseous now), I was back to see the greatest GP that ever lived! “So what’s the verdict Doc, do I need hormone implants or something as equally grown up” I grinned!
“No” it said “you aren’t menopausal”

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Are we ever alone?

The men went to the local pub and I stayed home alone, argh bliss or urgh boring?
I’ve always been lucky, I suppose, as in I’ve not minded my own company. I don’t put pressure on myself to be entertaining, a laugh a minute, the life and soul or even “always happy”. No, if I want to be a miserable, chuntering, nose picking, chocolate devouring smelly person that loves nothing more than procrastinating then I jolly well can. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a people person who likes a laugh, to let my style-less hair down as much as the next person but I’m in my forties now, early forties but definately not in my out-every-night teens or few times a week thirties. No, I’ve made it, after all these years, I’ve arrived.
That’s right, I like me or I would go as far as saying, I love me! Yes! Yes! Yes!
I Love Me!