Three to the Five

I don't really feel any different.

The same gang of wrinkles are still there and have yet to be joined by more friends.

The eyes are still fairly bright.

My mind is in working order, even if it's sometimes a little fuzzy.

Body is floppy but on the road to firm.

It's my birthday today, and all in all being exactly mid-thirty is pretty good.

I've managed to work, travel, have kids, have fun. I've got great family and friends and my life is definitely rich.

Can't say more than that.

I'm off to eat low-fat cake in the glorious sunshine.

You love 'em but...

Wah!

These past few weeks have been relentless. Which is partly why I have been a bit quiet on the blogging front.

Moody kids, other half working all hours, sleep is hit and miss and the feeling that sometimes you just want to jump off the hamster wheel. For good!

I have no idea where I would escape to, and what with all this ash cloud business I'd have to forget Barbados and make do with Bognor instead.

God only knows how much I love my children, but that doesn't mean I always like them.

Be honest with yourself, have you ever looked at your little treasures and wondered how the heck they came from you?

How at times they can be so bonkers, so tricky, so unpredictable and also so funny you start wondering if they are just aliens posing in your childrens clothes.

Minxy is doing a great job at pushing my buttons at the moment, and at the end of a day (which could've started as early at 5am), I'm frankly not in the mood to be messed with.

But when you're that frazzled and you're faced with the usual sticking points of the day like mealtimes, bath or bedtime, it's hard not to get just a wee bit worked up.

Smacking is a complete no-no and shouting is the new smacking, so what's a parent to do to reign in the situation?

I once went on a course to learn How To Be A Positive Parent. It was great, but the details are a bit fuzzy now. So I've delved back into my notes and my new tactic of staying firm yet calm is finally starting to work.

And while all around me others are losing their heads. I am not. Well not visibly anyway. Obviously, inside I'm screaming into an imaginary pillow.

Yesterday morning was a case in point. The Boy had been struggling to get the The Peaceful One dressed, so after what had seemed like an eternity he said: 'You don't want to get dressed then you're going out in your pyjamas then.'

And that was that.

The Peaceful One spent the entire day (which included the school run, going to the supermarket, and visiting two different parks) in his jim jams.

At one point he said: 'I don't want to be in my pyjamas' but once he realised he I wasn't going to change him, he just got on with it.

Rats.

This plan may have backfired. I now have visions of him permanently dressed in flannel.

One thing I've learnt is from that exercise is that I would have given my eye teeth to spend the day in my jimmies.

Book review

I've just read Lisa Jewell's new novel After The Party. It's the long-awaited follow up to smash hit Ralph's Party and sees the main characters Jem and Ralph on a totally different journey.

Since the pair hooked up over 10 years ago, they've settled down into suburbia and have had two children.

But all is not well.

It's more Smarties than parties and the novelty of family life has worn thin. The book begins with the couple having separated, but can they work out their differences or have they bought a one-way ticket to splitsville for good?

It's an emotional read and there are many elements to the story which I'm sure most parents can relate to. The humdrum aspect of every day life, the 'Whose turn is it to load the dishwasher? argument', the trying to reignite your old identity whilst adjusting to your new one.

Jewell writes with such honesty, she really captures the fine minutiae of relationships. It's as if she's sneaked a peek into your sitting room and recorded those conversations you've had with your other half.

If I'm frank, it's not the cheeriest of books, but it is still worth casting your eye over this summer.

Fans of Lisa Jewell's work should check out her Facebook fan page and for more details about the book visit the official After The Party website.

Every little helps

So I stood on the scales.

And the woman said casually: 'You've lost two and a half pounds.'

'Ooh' I said.

My first week of Weight Watchers was a success.

So do points mean prizes?

I'm not sure but I had a rice cake with peanut butter to celebrate (two points for your information).

Another reason to be cheerful this week was the fact I've made the finals of the MAD awards. The MADs celebrate the best Mum and Dad blogs. I'm up for Best New MAD Blog, which really made my day.

So if you're feeling generous dear reader, click yourself over to here and lend your support, today after all is a very important day for voting.

I'm finally losing it.

That's it.

I've had enough.

I'm losing it.

Not my mind (that went awol yonks ago) but the pounds.

Yes, I have signed up to a weight loss programme.

Eww, even saying it out loud makes it sound all American and cheesy. Not too much cheese mind, that's fattening.

I've never done a proper plan before, I always thought all that weighing yourself in front of people would be embarrassing more than motivating.

I had visions of a Little Britain style Marjorie Dawes leader shouting 'Come on fatty, time to ditch the baby blubber'.

But I've had enough of wearing clothes I don't like just because of excess squishy bits.

The Goddess may only be four months, and I didn't put on tons of weight with her, it's just the accumulative effect of three kids in a relatively short space of time has racked up.

So starting as I meant to go on I went for a quick power walk with a pal, and strode into the local community centre for the big weigh in.

My friend was nervous because she had lapsed a few weeks and I was nervous because, well, I didn't really know what to expect.

As I stepped onto the scales and looked at my weight in black and white, I felt a bit odd. Or sick to be precise. Crikey! I have got a bit more to lose than I realised. Ok, a LOT more. Hmm possibly, a whole Cheryl Cole.

Somebody pass me a biscuit quick!

As I don't own scales, the weekly weigh in is going to become a big deal every week.

Another friend who is also trying to make herself smaller gave me some very useful advice.

1. Go to the meeting. Every week. Even when you think you've put on.

2. Pasta - don't eat it the day before you weigh in. It is a BEAST of heaviness.

3. Don't wear jeans for weigh in - they're 3lbs of depression.

4. Don't have anything in the house that's not part of the plan.

5. Make a shopping list each week and STICK TO IT.

One, two and five are straight forward. Number three will be easy as I haven't worn jeans since I had Minxy. Number four will be hard because the kids like biscuits.

And so do I. Oh.

I was lamenting about my task to a school mum who diplomatically said: 'But your face is very slim.'

Sadly, I can't wear skinny jeans on my face.

Hmmm, this is going to be a real challenge and I'm totally up for it.

Goodbye maternity clothes and hello hot mama.

After the party

I'm currently reading Lisa Jewell's latest book After the Party, which is about how a couple's love for each other hits the skids once the kids come along.

Bottles of Bollinger are replaced by bottles of milk, it's more smarties than parties, that type of thing.

As nights out are such a rare occurance, it made me think about what I really missed about my pre-kid life.

Wandering around the shops today, I realised that in my former life this would have been something to relish.

Instead, I do most of my shopping online and when I do hit the real shops, it's a bit of let down as I'm always in a rush. I can scan the clothing rails in a shop at an alarming rate.

Going out was always a big deal, I was hardly ever at home before I had children. Now I'm grateful just to go to local pub, let alone Soho. And when I do venture into town, the logistics are such that I'm exhausted before I've even got on the tube.

Travelling was high on the agenda too, road trips across America, houseboats in India, partying in Thailand.

Now the thought of going to those places fills me with dread. And flying with three under six is just a no no on so many levels for me at the moment. I like to keep all the tantrums contained in the car, but once they're all of an age where it gets a little easier we'll definitely fly again.

But it's not all bad, life is definitely more enriched and the things I put great importance on well, aren't important anymore. But wouldn't it be nice at times to transport yourself back to the glory days

What do you miss most about your life before children?

Not seen and not heard.

We've got a few friends getting married this year.

Marvellous.

I love weddings.

But if there is one thing that definitely divides people, it's whether to have children at the event or not.

I used to get offended when we were invited as a couple without the kids. What? They don't want all of us there. Why not?

I thought it spoke volumes about the bride and grooms attitude to children in general. But with the cost of the average British wedding over £20,000 it's understandable that every person costs, however small they are.

There's the other thing that people always worry that children will be too noisy during the ceremony, but most parents would take out a crying infant. Nobody wants to ruin the big day.

However, if you're dealing with a bridezilla, there could be trouble in store.

So what really is the problem? Is it the case that children are seemingly so unruly today that parents can't control them? Or as a society we are becoming less tolerant of kids?

Coming from a large West Indian family, not having children at a wedding is practically a cultural no no. Ditto The Boy who is Jewish. Frankly, it's unheard of and a bit alien.

Kids were part of our wedding even before we had our own, and we gave parents the option to leave their darlings at home if they so chose. We certainly didn't have NO KIDS printed in bold on the invite.

I do believe there is a element of your roots involved. I think our continental cousins are much more relaxed about this sort of thing. Ever seen an Italian or Greek wedding without children?

There is the argument that you get the chance to let your hair down without the little ones, but sorting out babysitting can be real headache especially if the wedding is far away and you need to stay overnight.

On one hand, we've taken the children and have spent half the time running after them outside of the venue (missing the ceremony), stiffling cries, carrying a suitcase load of snacks and toys, and changing bums in child unfriendly venues. Not relaxing.

Then there have been the times where we're dancing with the children, laughing and watching Minxy's face as she admires the bride in pure wonder.

The weddings we've been to without children (or very few at least) we're lovely. And quiet!

You also get those who didn't want kids at their wedding, but then once they have their own family they get upset when their offspring isn't invited to other people's ceremonies. Can't have it both ways.

I'm all for a bit of noise (not screaming during speeches mind) and kids are part of the celebrations. Besides a bad drunk is way worse than a crying child in my books. Horrible behaviour can come from adults too.

One thing's for sure, it can definitely be deal-breaker amongst friends. My sister told me about two mates who fell out over the bringing of children to a wedding. Five years on they still don't speak now. Ouch.

As it stands, we can't make all of the weddings because some are abroad, so enjoy the peace friends!