Yesterday was a nightmare. I'm on two weeks holiday from work which is lovely but I stupidly thought I'd treat myself to a day by myself. So Oz went to the childminder (which yes, I did feel incredibly guilty for). I headed of in our car to Brighton for a bit of window shopping looking forward to the treat of a McDonalds lunch...sad, I know. i hadnt got more than 100 yards into the car park when our lovely car decided it had had enough and stopped right in the middle. No amount of swearing or pleading would get the thing to start so the recovery people were called. I sat there on a ledge in the car park trying to get a phone signal for over an hour. When the guy did turn up he told me he'd got his van into the car park as far as he could but because of the height of it he couldnt go any further - such a man thing to do! So he then spent 20 minutes letting the tyres down on his van so he could squeeze back out the entrance!

Anyway, got the car started and he very kindly followed me back to our local garage. Fluttered my eye-lids at the garage workers so they'd look at the car straight away. Called hubby when I knew what was wrong with the car and this is when everything started to go a little bit further downhill. Now, hubby is great and can turn his hands to most things but a mechanic he is not. Unfortunately no-one has told him this so our phone call ended in him forbiddng me to get the work done as a) all garages rip you off and he's sure there's nothing wrong and b) if there is something up, he can fix it himself. OK.....

So after a number of arguements last night he is now, as we speak, out in driving rain under the bonnet trying desperately to locate spark plugs and a coil pack!?!?!?!

I was trying to think of an equivalent situation in which I, as a woman, would feel I could do a better job. And you know what, I really dont think there is one. I'll happily admit my cooking isn't on par with a trained Chef, or my cleaning and ironing skills aren't the same as someone who does it for a living. Why can't men admit the same??

Not feeling great today. Hubbie and I are arguing constantly like cat and dog - about anything really but money being the main driver. Please tell me we're not the only ones? I dont want a glamorous life but just enough to see us week to week would be nice. This has all been topped off by not being able to go away with my best friend for a couple of nights relaxation (finances wont allow). My close friend tells me we all have to SUCK.IT.UP at sometime in ours lives and that this is my point. I dont want to loose my husband but it honestly feels like the only way to some kind of happiness at the moment is to not be around each other. Again, please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this??

Whilst I'm typing this my little monkey (who has been more than testing today) is sitting, butt naked on the sofa watching In the night garden. In one hand he has a pot of raisins, in the other his willy. Ah, how things never change...

Yep, in more pain today. Arms really hurting. I'm walking like I've been on a horse for a long, long time. Work collagues finding it highly amusing!

All this is not helped by my lovely husband. He's recently (this year) taken a career turn and has now set up a film production company. After a long time suffering from despression and being generally very unfit he's decided to throw himself headlong into getting fit whilst combining it with work. So, he's making a documentary called 'Unfit to Fight-fit'. The story is about his journey from very unfit father of two to pro MMA (mixed martial arts) fighter...think cage fighting. Talk about putting my one session of body-pump to shame, he's now on a 'fighters diet' and training 4-5 times a week. Granted, he looks great on it and has the energy of a toddler but god it's all I ever hear about!!

This is the link to him in our local paper this week. I particularly love the bit where they talk about me being fully supportive of his endeavour. If only they knew...!!

http://www.theargus.co.uk/search/4539301.Brighton_man_s_unfit_to_fighting_fit_bid/

I stupidly went to Body Pump last night with my lovely friend, Kristina (we met through having our babies but have more in common than just our chidlren which is nice!). I used to be able to do 45 mins Body Pump followed straight after by jumping on a spin bike for a 45 min class. I think I'd fooled myself into thinking that although this was six years ago, I couldnt possibly be in that bad a shape...how wrong I was.

We arrived to the class slightly late which meant we had the two spaces right at the front (obviously no-one else wanted these). I was so close to the instructor I could have kissed her. So ensued an hour of hell, lifting very heavy weights with my legs visibily shaking after the warm-up, showing my butt-crack to the 30+ people in the class behind me and sweating probably half my body weight out.

Today I can barely walk and it's getting worse. I struggled up and down our stairs this morning on all fours (yes, really) and now everytime I have to get up from my desk at work I'm making a groaning noise. I'm slightly worried my legs will have ceased up completely by the end of the day and I'll be stuck here...

It's been an action packed and very busy week or so, hence the lack of blogging. We've had two family BBQ's (one with 15 two and a half year olds!) and lots of other ordinary moments i.e. crying over the water / gas / electric bill. I've finally had my case study for my next Marketing exam, its on Lego. Now, I'm a big fan of Lego having played with it when I was young but I'm not sure I can study a 34 page document and write for three hours about it. We'll soon find out! Hubbie and I walked to the local cafe with Oz for a cuppa on Sunday. Oz as as well behaved as can be expected when you ask a two and half year old to sit still in one place, patiently waiting for his food to arrive. Like most little people he got fidgety and started shouting. I say shouting, it was more of a high-pitched wail. It was then I heard the lady on the table next to me say to her friend 'Give me a mallet...'. To say I was less than impressed is an understatement. Oz was then encouraged to make as much noise as possible....

God, what a couple of hectic days. Honestly, trying to juggle work and home life is so hard sometimes. I've been in agency pitches for work all day yesterday and most of today which has meant not getting home till gone 7pm. Meaning I miss my little monkey completely and dont get to see him until briefly the next morning. Today has been really tiring - topped off by walking through the front door to be handed two children and a husband on the way out the door for nights work. Not impressed. Little man is now in bed after a couple of 'wee wee mummy' runs to the toilet, dishwasher on, warm wine in hand (forgot to put it in the fridge...basic mistake) and pizza on order. I cant muster the energy to cook for me and eldest so Pappa John's finest (as well as a large side-order of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice-cream) is winging it's way to my door.

Four days off work now...can't wait.

Well, hair trial went really well. Amazing what you can do with a a can of hair spray and some pins!

I'm yet to figure out why my little boy feels the need to wake us up at the same time every day (5.22am) and insists on bringing the contents of his bed into ours. I spend my half-awake morning state lying in between muslin clothes (or 'Goo-Goo's' to Oz), a dummy, a huge red toy bus, 'Clifford' his little red puppy toy and an array of bottles off my bedside cabinet. Just when you get comfy - he refuses to share the bed so you constantly fight for space - he decides it's definitely time to get up so hops out of bed and whacks the light on thus ensuring retinas are damaged for good. I'll give him credit though, he then stands there shouting 'Come on then mummy!' until I eventually roll out of bed. Can't think where he gets his stubborn streak from........

Hi. I'm new. I thought I'd start now as, well...what better time to start blogging!

I'm off now for the hair trial for my sisters wedding in September - wish me luck! My little boy is a pageboy and I keep trying to break it to my sister that he's not going to be the perfect little man, standing still in his beautifully clean suit. He's most likely to scream 'MUMMY, POOOOOOO!!!!' at the top of his lungs at the crucial 'I do' moment. Oh well. Will reprort back with hair news.