I'm sitting down. Sitting down and not working, not eating dinner, not in a meeting, not torching, just sitting down and it's not even 9pm its 2.20pm in the afternoon. What a hectic week. Church meeting on Monday, run kids to drama class on Tuesday for dress rehearsal, come home make dinner for PS, pick kids up from Drama class, drop them home, go and get takeaway chinese, go over to friends house for evening. Wednesday, take Joe to tutor, come home, cooke tea for Abbie, drop Abbie at friends ready to go to Brownies, pick Joe up from Tutor, get takeaway (treat for behaving at tutors) come home, eat, go out pick Abbie up from Brownies. Thursday, Spend the morning in Church making up orange squash for Abbies whole class and the other 2 year 4 classes as they've spent the morning there watching the Easter Experience. Come home do mad dash around house, cleaning, polishing, hoovering, washing, making up spare bed. Parents arrive. Kids home from school, sling a quick chicken casserole in the over and prep some veg, burn the only potato's in the house, pretty positive I can't get away with instant mash on this occasion. Cut burnt bits off potatoes and mash with far too much butter and milk to hide the hint of burnt food. Eat dinner, clear away dinner, take parents and children to church hall for production of Aladdin which they are both staring in. Sit and watch the play, clap profusely at clever offspring. Parents are driving home tonight, not staying in the freshly made bed I made up earlier. Wave them off, get in the car and dash into supermarket before it closes at 10pm. Pick up milk and bread, get cadgolled into buying Mars bars and extra thick milk shake, get home get over the excitememt of the play and kids finally got bed on the promise that they needn't got to school till 10.30am tomorow. Friday, 10.30 drop Joe at school, Abbie at the church up the road where year 4 are practicing their Easter play to be performed on Monday. Dash back to school and YES I'm forth in the queue for the school assembly, a front row seat for a change.

There's Sallys Mum, tall, slim, elegant, dressed in the latest whatever with a fully made up face, Joshua's Mum Mrs Eco friendly, she's always late because she always has to make a detour to the recyling bins with yesterdays organic wine bottle and the gaurdian. Combat trousers and flowery jumper, hair in plaits and yoga monthly tucked under her arm. Sarahs Mum, Mrs Beeton, with her 1980's dress sense and a casserole in the oven. I swear she has a pinnie on under that mack. The kids are never without a vest and a cardigan and in the winter, mittens on elastic. And Chavvy Shaz. Chelseas Mum tracky bottoms, skinny tee shirt with bare midrift, and a smattering of tattoos and belly rings and the most enourmous bangle sized earrings any pirate would be proud to sport. Hair scraped back giving her the oriental look and a ring on each finger. Shes a nice girl, sort of the earth. Then theres me. Yesterdays hair twisted up into a knot and clipped, yesterdays tee shirt with yesterdays coffee stain. Jeans with added green paint, purple crocks and a spot on my chin. Why do I always only remember its class assembly when I'm dropping them off, why do I look like I'm married to the rag and bone man. Back home to work and make up some more jewellery as the beads are back from being annealed.

Friday night and another performance of Aladdin, I'm helping out back stage tonight. PS has gone to give blood. If I hadn't been needle phobic I could have quite happily have joined him for a lie down for an hour with a cuppa and a biscuit.

So here I am today, Saturday, PS is in the garage fixing something with valves the kids are in the garden playing with kids up the road and I am sitting down, talking to you. I would have been in the shed making beads but the gas ran out this morning and evidently the gas man doesn't work on Saturdays. One more performance tonight of Aladdin then he can get back into his lamp and we can all relax for a bit, until Monday when it's the Easter play lol.

Foxes in Soxes

'You'll never believe this, someones nicked one of my boots out of the porch' is the clean version of PS's good morning darling how are you today. 'Uhhh' is my reply as I struggle out of the arms of Morpheus and back into the bedroom. He's standing there waving a singular boot in the air. Fury leaping from him as he announces that he can't go to work with one boot, (they're steel toe capped and a requisite of the job) he'll lose a days pay and will have to buy a new pair of boots, to boot, actually he didn't put the to boot on the end, I just did.

So there we are, PS, although the boot has been found in next doors front garden has gone back to bed since the boot was doing a good impression of wet sheep so unwearable and said boot is now standing on the radiator to dry. I might as well get up, now I'm wide awake. Breakfast eaten, uniforms ironed and on and I'm yelling at the kids to get their coats and shoes on as I finish the packed lunches. So where are their shoes, Joe has one, Abbie has one, Abbie has one plimpsol, Joe has one trainer, no pink suede boots, but there is a pair of beach sandals of Joes. None of mine are missing Huh! It appears that the thief has stolen one of nearly every shoe and both Abbies pink suede boots. None of mine, I was too lazy to put mine in the porch, mine were in the living room, safe. Foxes, they're the thieves. PS is raving about the porch door being left open and why did't anyone shut it. Well I'm not telling him, but I wasn't last in last night.

Its a quarter to 9 and I'm sitting in traffic on my way to our local Asda to buy shoes so the children can go to school. I'm not buy expensive ones, they'll have to have what I can get. Abbie finds a pair almost instantly and Joe takes half an hour walking up and down, deciding between styles, this one pinches, that one looks weird. £35 later I drop them both at school fully clothed and shod.

That was yesterday and today the site where PS is working there is an undercurrent wafting around about foxes hopping around our village in one steel toe capped boot. He is not amused.

Oh and when I got back from the shoe shopping trip there was a telephone message. I got the job (see previous post) Well would you believe it!!!

Crikey, a weeks slipped by, where have I been. Well I obviously didn't get the job, not heard a dicky bird, didn't like my dress sense I presume. Have stopped hounding the postman, something he looks relieved about, he was beginning to hesitate behind the privit hedge then dash past the wrought iron gate while I stood behind the front door ready to grab whatever he had the nerve to push through the brass letterbox. Talking of post, why is it that you can wait in all day but still miss the vital package that you are waiting for because you dared to go to the loo. Your desperate, you've been sitting around all morning waiting, you can't finish this job that needs to go out today with out that package so you sit in the kitchen, the front door in full view, and that third cup of coffee just starts to tickle your bladder and you can't put it off any longer so you race upstairs, it wont take a minute, trousers down, and as soon as you sit the bloody doorbell rings. You know its him, but you're in mid flow, you've been holding it in for the past hour, and with the best will in the world and a lack of pelvic floor excersise and two babies you cannot stop it mid flow, so quick as you can you pull the chain, come out of the loo and there it is, you can see it from the landing, the orange and white card laying on the mat. 'We're sorry you were out when we called' I was in the flipping toilet. I jump up and down, screaming,m open the front door and theres a streak of red van racing up the road. Well thats that, the card says I can't go and collect it till tomorow. Why does that happen, how long do they actually stay on your doorstep, do the write the note out before they ring on the doorbell, should I have left a chair and a note saying 'please take a seat, I'm in the toilet'