H is for homework

Most parents with school aged children have encountered the following three people.

Chip
Biff
Kipper

Argh! I haven't met a more annoying set of characters in my life. Yet, they've been in our lives for two years now.

They come from the Oxford Reading Tree, and the books they feature in are supposed to be a passport to helping your child to read.

It's just a shame the stories are so unimaginative. And random.

I'm tired of reading them, goodness knows how Minxy feels.

Here's why they get my goat.

- The absurd rhythmn of the stories.

- The way they end abruptly with no proper conclusion.

- The creepy neighbour who is always looking over the fence, it's less Where's Wally? and more Where's the Weirdo?

- They are boring. End of um, story, so to speak.

Please tell me the books get better. Please.

Outside my door

London really can be a great place for kids.

And doing this week's gallery challenge for Tara at Sticky fingers made me realise how lucky I am to live in a great part of the capital.

The marvellous Kew Gardens is only a hop, skip and a jump away and we go there frequently.

It's one of those places that really makes you feel alive, and with so much to see and do there, you're never bored.

One of the best things about it is the go-slow pace. Toddling about looking at all the flowers, the leaves, and just about every stone makes you wish you could live your're life at that rate all the time.

Kew Gardens holds a special place in my heart and the news that part of it may have to close is a worry.

If you ever get the chance to visit, you must.

Happiness

Holly at It's a mummy's life recently wrote a post about happiness and it got me thinking.

We're all so busy rushing around that you barely get time to reflect on your life and think about what really makes makes you happy.

So here in no particular order is what definitely makes my heart smile.

A crazy busy house with friends, kids, and lots of laughter.

Making and creating. Be it food, crafts or stuff with the kids.

A bar of almond Green & Blacks chocolate bar, accompanied by a magazine and a cup of herbal tea. Yes, it really does make me happy.

Waking up and thanking God that I'm here to look forward to another day.

Being grateful for having such a wonderful family, I mean my parents and siblings, not just my brood.

Watching the children grow day by day.

Retail therapy.

Beaten up old cars, that are crying out for a new lease of life.

Bad 'Knock, knock' jokes.

My fabulous friends.

It's not a huge list by all accounts, but it's the little things that mean the most.

Me

So I decided to join in with The Gallery, the ace idea created by Sticky Fingers.

You take a photo relating to the weekly topic and then you blog about it.

This week the theme was 'Me'.

Instead of taking a picture of myself, I felt that I'm currently defined by what is in my handbag.

I bought my bag on my honeymoon in Italy. We were in Florence and I purchased it along with two other lovely leather bags at a market. I haggled it down to a reasonable price and my tan friend has been at my side at various intervals ever since.

It's really battered now, and the inside zip has recently gone, and a pen leaked leaving a black stain at the back, but whilst I'm off work, it's my bag du jour and I still love it.

As you can see, it's rather Tardis-like and can hold a whacking great load of must-have things.

These are:

Pink diary, untouched, because I keep everything in my head. Fool!
Two plasters, one kiddie one, the other is plain.
Giant purse that holds one percent cash, ninety nine percent crap,
iPhone,
Glasses case,
The glasses from Mr Potato Head,
Pocket tissues for a snotty nose (mine, not theirs, that's what sleeves are for right?),
Lip gloss,
Vaseline,
White chocolate buttons,
Satsuma (to ofset the chocolate natch),
A marshmallow from Monday,
Mismatching hair clips,
Oyster card,
Three pens,
A button that fell off my coat last week,
A letter.

That's it.

Yup, that's me right there, ready for any eventuality.

Tantrum? Whip out the buttons. Feeling virtuous - eat the satsuma. Looking ropey - slick on some lip gloss. Minxy's hair dramas - pin back with the clips, pens for jotting, plasters for grazes and the phone for pretty much everything else.

The days of keys, purse, mobile are a distant memory. But one day, just one day...

Broken Britain

Gah!

Never mind the nation going to pot, I feel like the everything is falling apart at home.

I don't know if there's some kind of Feng Shui style message going on but things just keep breaking.

Minxy's scooter decided to fail on the way to school, The Peaceful One (who breaks everything anyway) has broken his ride-on car, the side of his bed, the canon on his tank. The list goes on.

Every time I go to get a toy, the batteries have gone, or a crucial part is missing, only last week a gorgeous puzzle was spoiled by the fact one of the pieces broke.

On an domestic level, light bulbs pop at the most inconvenient moment, The Boy recently fixed the dishwasher, the tumble drier is about to go to dump, we've just replaced the toaster and kettle and the computer has been on the blink. Argh!

There's an endless mend list, but at least I'm grateful that as a family we're all in working order.

Pets corner

They say never work with children or animals, but a lot of parents out there don't work with them they have both!

In the spirit of fun I've decided to start a Pets Corner, where you dear reader can send in your photos of your furry (or not so) friends.

I'll link to your blog so people can find out more about the owner, but feel free to add one line about your beloved.

It could be anything, what they mean to you, their personality, or just where you live.

At the end of the week, there will be winner. You won't actually receive anything other than the prestige of being Pet of the Week. Wow!

The more random, funny, cuter the picture the better. In this post is a portrait of Luci and Andy's dog Louis Vitton and Grandad's cat J.J is in the spot where Pets Corner will feature.

Please send your pictures and your blog address to petscorner2010 @ googlemail.com

Competition is stiff so may the paws be with you!

Party politics

So the General Election is looming.

And the three main political parties are trying their best to persuade us to vote for them.

I don't know about you but I smell a rat amongst all of them, and sorry but The Guardian's piece on 'the new look Tories' did nothing to change that.

Right now the politics that I deal with are on a more local level. They involve the invites to birthday parties.

On the whole Minxy gets an invite, we check the calendar, she either goes or doesn't go.

Occasionally, there's the 'So and so had a party and I wasn't invited' drama. It's a tough life lesson to explain to a five year old that you're not always included in somebody else's fun.

It seems that kids parties are just not parties any more, they're events.

Whatever happened to the time honoured tradition of going around someone's house for jelly and ice cream, pass the parcel, and leaving with a slice of cake and a sugary smile?

Now it's all entertainers, fancy restaurants (well Pizza Express), party bags filled with plastic tat, and expectations higher than reasonable.

By the time Minxy's birthday rolls around, she's seen every type of party going and the pressure is on to deliver.

This year we've had requests for Build A Bear, cinema and pizza night, a swimming pool party, and a sleepover. I'm not hearing jelly and ice cream amongst that list.

Her Godmother who is a super mum to four children, has an excellent view of parties. She says:

No parents
No siblings
Out with cucumber and carrot batons and in with party rings and chocolate fingers.
Produce sweets if anyone starts crying or having a tantrum.
Keep a bag of cheap pressies to dip into if things start to get boring.

Pretty sensible rules I think you'll find.

I'll be following them closely if I can get away with a home party this year.

What are your views on kids party?

Blog off haters!

There's a big old hoo-ha about mummy bloggers at the moment.

Well, there is over the pond.

Our US counterparts are still reeling from the New York Times article about mums who blog and how it's now a major industry and not just a bit of fun.

There's been a few insecurities in Blighty with people worried about the number of comments their blogs are getting, the quality of their posts, and even questioning why they started blogging at all.

I actually started a blog five years ago charting the perils of being a first time mum, it was a bit of a laugh and gave me some much-needed creativity away from Minxy. I gave it up after a few months when life got too hectic and baby number two came along.

Now I've dipped my toe back into the water and woah how the landscape has changed.

Blogging conferences, advertising, reviews, competitions, people getting book deals from their blogs, and the power of social media has meant that everybody has upped their game.

You're not allowed to ramble on about your cruddy day with the baby, you've got to be witty, insightful, thought-provoking.

And you have to have a niche. You're a mum to sextuplets, living in outer Mongolia, running an online business.

Or do you?

Gosh, what a pressure.

I say 'boo' to the haters out there. What's wrong with reaching out to a virtual community of like-minded parents? Or making a living out of it if you can?

Goodness knows raising a family can be a hard slog and it's refreshing to ride the rollercoaster with other people.

So don't feel down hearted if you're having a bad blogging day, week, month it happens to us all.

Just be safe in the knowledge that you are not alone.

Column inches

Squish, squish, wobble, wobble, squeeze, stuff, oooh.

That's the sound of me trying to get into my old clothes.

Ok, so The Goddess is not quite three months old yet, but you know, there's no getting away from the past five years of childbearing.

Boing!

That's me literally bouncing around.

Now that we live in the age were celebrity mums are either back in their size zeros within a matter of weeks of giving birth, or taking the slow and steady approach like Charlotte Church or Claire Richards from Steps, it's hard not to put yourself on a timescale.

'Nine months to put on so nine months to take off' I hear you cry, and yes I'm not ready to ditch the chocolate just yet (didn't manage to give it up for Lent this year ), I just want to get back to some kind of normal.

We all know that motherhood comes with a few war wounds, but now that our family is completed, I actually feel like it's time to get back into jeans once and for all.

Not just jeans, but a whole new wardrobe please.

With the weather having picked up, it's out with the layers and big coats, and in with partial flesh-baring. Yikes! I'm talking arms and ankles and God forbid, legs.

A friend recently came over for lunch and she looked amazing. She has a toddler and was slinking around in jeans and a t-shirt. What was her secret?

'Slimming World,' she raved.

'Really?'

She's the second person I know who has done SW and she also looks fab. Plus, she has four children, two of which are baby twins.

I've never done the diet club thing, I don't even own scales.

Would I have the guts to wibble in public? I'm not so sure.

Let me just think about over a wee slice of cake and I'll get back to you...

Green guilt

How green are you?

Come on, ask yourself.

I try my best, but I've already cluttered up the planet by having all these kids.

We recycle our papers, plastic and garden waste. I'd love to recycle myself and come back as some kind of domestic goddess.

I'm happy to buy things second hand and fully utilise charity shops, eBay, Gumtree and Freecycle.

Upcycling isn't a new class at the gym, it's the buzz word for tarting up old furniture or giving a household object a new lease of life. I'm all for that and it appeals to my crafty leanings.

However, I'm not ready to knit my own knickers just yet.

Composting isn't my strength, but we try. Sadly I don't have green fingers and kill plants just by looking at them.

In fact, the cress that The Peaceful One brought home from his pre-school last week has copped it on the window sill. If you can't grow cress, frankly, there's no hope is there?

I buy organic, but I don't buy everything organic. Sorry, but the point of organic ketchup is what exactly?

Anyway, I'm yet to be totally convinced by the organic argument, but in an effort to avoid being shot by the green mafia, I buy what we can afford.

The nappies we use aren't biodegradable. We used to buy Nature's Boy and Girl for Minxy, but by the time the others came along, we'd just get any brand going.

I actually did try washable nappies. It wasn't hard, I was just lazy and you need to be fully committed to the cause. So the beautiful bundle of fluffy pants went back on eBay from whence they came.

We're getting better at walking. I really love walking, just don't do it enough and find myself in the car zooming about way too much. When the weather gets better, I'll be taking advantage of my feet (now that I can finally see them) to get from A to B.

Living more sustainably is definitely appealing if not needed to safeguard the planet.

In an alternative life (no pun intended) I'd be in my Haf haus, living the good life.

Mothers Day - How was it for you?

Ah Mothering Sunday.

Doncha just heart it?

A lie-in, croissants in bed, home made cards, chocolates, and dinner out in a restaurant.

An absolutely dream day on paper.

The reality...

Well, I'm not going to dwell on that. Let's just say we survived and we'll keep it a little more low key next year (read 'skip the meal out bit').

The pressure to Have A Good Time is immense, but to be honest, it's just another day (the washing doesn't wash itself, neither does the house tidy itself up) but the focus gives you the chance to reflect on this whole motherhood lark.

All I know is that I'm truly blessed to have my three chiddlers. They might keep me well and truly on my toes, but when I think about how lucky we are to even have children, it puts it into perspective.

My own mother is an inspiration to me, and having come from a family of six siblings, I have so much respect for her. How the Dickens did she (and my father) do it?

This is what the fountain of knowledge that is called Wikipedia says about the word 'Mother'.

" A mother is a biological and/or social female parent of an offspring.[1] Because of the complexity and differences of a mothers' social, cultural, and religious definitions and roles, it is challenging to define a mother to suit a universally accepted definition."

Ain't that the truth?

At your service

I run the best hotel in the world.

The food is plentiful and I cater for the fussiest of eaters.

The beds are always made.

Entertainment is laid on 24/7.

The service is top notch.

You get a designated driver who will take you far and wide.

Your every whim and desire is attended to.

There's only one slight problem.

The guests!

A tidy house is a tidy mind right?

Being off on maternity leave has been a revelation in so many ways.

I've learnt so much about myself and not all of it good.

I'm no longer so weedy since I became a fully paid up member of The School Run Club.

When I was working, I used to drop off the kids to their various places (one to school, the other at our childminder), run back to the car and drive like a loon to the office. It didn't matter what the weather was like because I'd be heading to my warm and dry desk.

Now that we're having what seems like the longest winter in the history of the weather, finding a parking space, having change to get a ticket, dealing with the cold/wind/rain, cheering up The Peaceful One who is normally in a foul mood at this time of the day, and trying to keep The Goddess asleep has become a mammoth task.

Everyday brings a new challenge but patience, treats, and the gritting of teeth gets me through it.

Another thing I've learnt is staying at home means constant mess. I'm not massively tidy, but since being home, our house looks like it's been burgled on a permanent basis.

I can't bear it. In fact I've started to develop slight OCD tendancies.

'Um, can you not mix the colours of the Play Doh please.'

'So you've finished with the puzzle, can you pack it away before you get out your cars.'


Clatter, crash! That's the sound of the entire box of lego being tipped on the floor. Ok, keep calm, deep breaths. The children are only actually playing with their toys. But OMG half of it is under the sofa.

Snip, snip, snip. 'I'm just making cards for all my friends mummy.' So why is most of the art cupboard on the floor?

Frankly, glitter is the devil's dust.

Grr!

Naked Barbie's, marbles, dolls clothes, teeny tiny little shoes for Polly Pocket, Transformers parts, Play Mobile bits, endless unidentified arts and crafts projects, balloons from party bags, twigs, Hama beads, the list goes on.

I'm living in a trashed nursery.

And don't get me started on the laundry.

I want clarity and I want it now!

Why can't my house be like the ones you see in Living Etc or The White Company?

Clean lines, storage for everything and not a sticky fingerprint in sight.

Because it wouldn't be much fun that's why.

Oh.

Stars in my eyes

I'm a Gemini.

I know what you're thinking, and no I'm not two-faced thank you very much.

I'm double the fun, or at least that's how I like to think I am.

Does my star sign make a difference to how I raise my brood? I'd like to say 'no' but have a sneaking suspicion it creeps in at every turn.

Decisions are not my strong point. The simplest thing can turn into a drama in my mind.

Shopping is a 'mare. 'Shall I get a Twix or a KitKat?' 'Twix, KitKat, Twix, KitKat, argh!'

Apparently I make for a 'lively, adaptable, sensible and positive parent who is able to present your children with a constant stream of new ideas and experiences.'

That's true. It's a never ending round of activities in our house as I can't bear the boredom.

'Ok, children we're going to do painting, then baking, followed by junk modelling.'

It's either that or: "We're going to the park. No grandma's. Hold on, let me see if anyone else is around, that's it we're staying in."

The Boy puts up with a LOT to say the least, and frankly I blame everything on my star sign. He said I should illustrate this post with a crazy lady, I plumped for elephants instead.

He's an Aries and he definitely adds fire to my air.

Although I read horoscopes with a healthy pinch of salt, there could be some truth in the character traits.

My mummy mates who are Capricorns are organised within an inch of their lives, the Librans are free-spirited and go with the flow, the Aquarians are practical, and the Sagittarians are adventurous.

Regarding Gemini's, I also read that 'constant childish chatter and repetitive noise can irritate you, and you will need frequent breaks, especially if you are stuck at home.'

Hmm, bit late for that then.

'Retro'spective

Cooking the same old fare week after week gets a bit boring, so I've decided to go back.

Way back. And introduce the kids to some trashy gems of my childhood.

Growing up, it was Caribbean food mixed with the fish fingers with mash, sausage with mash, and mash with mash for when friends came for tea.

But there are some foods that take me back my youth in a blink of an eye. And Angel Delight is one of them. Ditto Artic Roll.

Let's not think about their nutritional value (zilch) and more the sheer fun. Chocolately badness whipped up in an instant - yes please. Ice cream in a sponge cake - woo!

It also adds some interest into the hell that is period post-school to bedtime. 'Hey kids, check this out.' stops the 'But, mum he called me poo head' arguments in an instant.

There are some retro 'classics' that I won't be introducing to the kids.

The Boy told me he loved eating Smash as a kid (bleurgh) and I vaguely remember he went through a Pop Tart phase when we first met (cardboard with molten lava style jam inside).

Best leave those two behind.

Which foods have you introduced to your kids which are good yet oh-so-bad?

City limits

A trip out of London to see family saw us admiring some nice green views.

Over the years, dear friends have left the big schmoke for a quieter life, more house for less money, and just simply because they had had enough.

It got me and The Boy talking about whether we could really live outside of the M25.

Now I love the countryside. Rolling hills, fresh air, the wildlife, the relaxed way of life. What's not to like?

Grandma lives here in the French countryside and when we visit we love the fact you barely see another person for weeks.

But, could I live away from the city for real?

I'd like to think I could, but whether I want to right now is different.

There's nothing wrong with raising a family in the city. People always worry about the crime, the schools and the lack of open space, but I argue that kids can have just a good a childhood here as those raised elsewhere.

And when they're older it makes no difference. Besides, teenagers get bored regardless of where they live.

I'm in the suburbs anyway, hardly Soho.

The case for London life:

There's tons to do for families.

It's multi-cultured and there's a diverse range of people.

You're only a tube ride away from adventure.

The shops are open most of the time.

The case against:

The cost. Everything is so darn expensive.

Er, that's it.

Ok, so I'm biased. I was born and raised here, so I don't know much else.

I love the coast too, so if I had to leave the capital, I'd head to the sea in a shot.

Where do you live and do you think children have a better life outside of the city?

Party pooper

Having The Goddess has meant practically striking a line through all social engagements for a very long time.

Too tired, colic, nothing to wear (besides the fact nothing fits), and just the sheer logistics, has scuppered any chance of a night out for the foreseeable future.

Or at least it feels that way.

I wouldn't be so worried but typically 2010 is turning out to be THE year for all those around me.

I'm missing big birthday parties, where people are celebrating ages which end in 0.

Weddings that span from London to Connecticut to Italy.

An evening over at a friend's house seems like an impossibility.

In short it's very frustrating. It wasn't that long ago that I was out on the tiles, partying 'til dawn.

Now even the cat doesn't even want to hang out with me.

Still, perhaps I shouldn't complain at it's nice to be invited.

Don't worry friends, I'll be back on the scene roughly 2013.

Round and around we go

You've got to be honest.

Sometimes, you get to the weekend and you're all out of puff.

Life can be one long roundabout and now again you just want to jump off.

Everybody likes to give you their tuppence worth about the joys of parenting:

"Enjoy these years, they go so quickly."

"It's tough now, but it's just a phase."

"You'll look back and wonder where time went."

What nobody says is how boring it can be. Come on, be truthful. It can be just a wee bit, um, dull.

The same faces and places, the 'What shall we have for tea?', the 'Will I ever stop feeling tired?', the routine schmoutine.

I sometimes go into autopilot forgetting to revel in the moment, and remember that this is their childhood we're living.

The act of getting up, doing the school run, doing the shopping, picking the kids up, having tea, doing bath and bedtime, can be more enduring than enjoying.

Now again, my mind wanders into fast forward mode, when I assume things will be 'exciting' but the reality is that you have to make it happen.

So right now imagination is the key, I'm trying to make life a little bit more interesting for all involved.

It's less Cbeebies (eek) and more papier mache, more baking (if all else fails make a cake) and less, well less of the mundane.

Here's to more fun times ahead.

For them and for me.

The one where I do as I do, not as I say.

I've only been blogging for a few weeks, but I jumped at the chance to get involved in Guest Post Day, a gem of an idea from Erica, the woman behind Little Mummy.

So today, you'll be reading a new shiny post from Laura from Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy?

She's a veteran blogger, but I think you'll agree that we can all relate to the joy that is demanding children.

If you want to find out what I wrote (or rather made) for Laura, head over to her site for some stitching without the bitching.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When I pick the children up it's always the same.

They come out of school, across the playground, and pile anything they are carrying onto me so that they can go on the school's adventure playground before going back to the car.


I am Sherpa-Woman; ladened with a packed lunch bag, a cardigan, a bag of wellies, a book bag and a cereal box model or two, gloves and scarves.


Yesterday was different though, I didn't even get a "Hello Mummy, please can you hold this?".


On the way to the car the 4 year old whined that he was tired and couldn't possibly walk the last 5 metres.

The 5 year old complained that I was walking too fast. In less than 3 minutes my heart rate went up.


As we got in the car all I heard was ... open the car, where is my bag?, pass me my juice, I'm sitting in that seat, don't touch my packed lunch bag, that's my book.


As I listened my blood boiled.


I turned round and using my best Supernanny firm voice with a hint of 'wild thunder eye' told them that I was going to speak, WITHOUT INTERRUPTION.


I told them that they had to speak to each other and me with more respect. I told them that I'm sure they didn't speak to their teacher or childminder like that.


I turned back, took a deep breath and started the car. I looked in the mirror and could see that the 5 year old was thinking.


5 year old - Mummy, at school I am very polite. I always say please and thank you, so when I see you after school I don't have any manners left.


The 3 year old whose grommets have fallen out leaving him partially deaf simply nodded in agreement.


Me - I want a change in behaviour tomorrow after school tomorrow, OK?


5 year old - Mummy, but you didn't say please.


I think I need Supernanny to give me a good talking to.

Read all about it

To celebrate World Book Day Minxy decided to dress up as Cinderella.

No surprise there as the world she inhabits is one full of princesses, fairies, weddings and anything that where everyone lives happily ever after.

And why not? If you can't have a rosy view of the world when you're five, when can you?

I love reading books. Don't do enough of it, but still love it. I remember reading in my bedroom, long after 'lights out' and squinting in the dim light as my mind was led on an adventure.

Currently, my own reading ranges wildy from the practical (How To Teach Your Child To Read In 100 Easy Lessons
) to the inspirational (The Audacity of Hope), to the downright random (Lillian Too's Little Book of Feng Shui).

Pah! I couldn't even tell you who is top of the bestsellers list, but I'm sure it's none of the above.

Sadly, reading leisurely for pleasure means harking back to the days B.C (Before Children).

Although World Book Day might be a bit gimmicky (wouldn't it be great if adults dressed up too?), it reminds us all how important it is to escape from the daily grind and disappear into a good book.

What will you be reading today?

Cuckoo la la

Found the marbles.

Honestly, I thought I had lost them.

Then I realised they were on the book shelf all along. Phew!

Seriously though, my brain has never quite been the same since the chiddlers came along and I now do the oddest things.

For example:

I actually laugh at Cbeebies show Gigglebiz.

Ditto Peppa Pig.

I've found myself admiring the interiors in TV show Grandpa In My Pocket.

My memory just isn't the same.

My memory just isn't the same, or have I said that already?

Going to Ikea is almost a family day out.

I've started to unashamedly watch The Wright Stuff on Five.

I'm one of the few people who actually likes Angelina Jolie.

What I want to know is will I ever be the same again? Can my tastes ever revert back to normal?

What kind of stuff do you do that you didn't do before?

Is there hope?

Head, shoulders, knees and toes

Everybody talks about the pain of childbirth, but nobody tells you about the aches and pains you endure afterwards.

My neck is stiff.

My back has more knots than Minxy's hair.

My shoulders are up to my ears.

It's not a good look.

The Goddess is only a wee thing (not sure exact amount because I'm done with the weekly weigh-in palava), but when she's lounging on one shoulder, whilst I wipe another child's bum and answer the phone, my spine is paying for it big time.

I think it actually resembles the letter 'Q'.

Which is why I'm going to enlist the help of my sister to put me on the straight and narrow.

She's recently qualified as an osteopath and I could with her fingers working her magic.

There's always scepticism surrounding osteopathy, but from my experience, it's definitely worked for me.

And to be honest having somebody manipulate my muscles is an offer I just can't turn down.

Men at work

Three words.

Just three words can send your heart racing and your head spinning.

No not those ones.

I meant 'working late tonight.'

When I hear those words my shoulders sink and I generally do a big sigh.

Then I dust myself down and throw myself headlong into the tea, bath, bed routine and hope that I come out the other side in one piece.

Obviously, I have the utmost respect for single parents who have no choice but to get on with it night after night.

But sometimes it's nice to have a helping hand with the homework ('just one more spelling darling'), the meal time ('just one more mouthful please'), the bath ('just five more minutes and then out'), and bedtime ('just one more page').

With The Boy working late on a regular basis, getting three to bed is quite a challenge, but I'm trying my best to nail it.

Wish me luck.