How To ROCK Getting Older.

How To ROCK Getting Older.

Getting older is one of life's cruel inevitabilities. 

We all start out with baby-soft, flawless, tight skin and gradually over time the skin begins to sag and the dark circles start to form under our eyes. Then come the wrinkles. Sadly for most of us, it will get to the point where our asses will droop down to the backs of our knees and we will end up dragging our boobs across the floor and propping them up in the child seat of the trolley in Sainsbury's just to alleviate the stress on our curved spines.

 

 

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Why Big Macs Make Me A Better Parent.

Why Big Macs Make Me A Better Parent.

It was my birthday this week. Sigh. 

This morning I glanced in the mirror and noticed yet another roll of skin had descended over the top of my Primark full briefs- the flimsy elastic had given up the fight and had surrendered and drowned under an avalanche of flab...a 'flabalanche' if you will. I also noticed that despite my son being three years old, I was still wearing my maternity leggings. Shameful I know.

 

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10 Careers ALL Parents Could Have

10 Careers ALL Parents Could Have

I am a musician by trade. And yes, before you ask,  it is a real job.

The job, as does most, comes with many highs and lows.

Highs include: Travelling to amazing places, playing at major venues, working alongside your friends, working with celebrities, playing on TV, having lots of days off, variety- as no two days are ever the same, plus sometimes- and it's not often, but sometimes you get free booze!!

Lows include: Airport check-ins at 5 am, erratic schedules, eating soggy boxed sandwiches from petrol stations for your dinner 3 nights in a row, spending a lot of time in your pants watching Jeremy Kyle waiting for a gig to come in, trouble getting car insurance, trouble getting mortgages (banks don't think it's a real job) and dealing with people on the tube who say 'Gawd, that's a big violin'. (The most original and over-stated observation that is always said to a woman carrying a cello)

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6 Reasons Why I WANT To Go To Prison!

6 Reasons Why I WANT To Go To Prison!

Every other evening at approximately 7.10pm, my neighbour stands by her window with one eye peering through her heavy velvet curtains. Her phone is in her hand. She has pressed 999 and her thumb hovers over the green 'call' button. But she hesitates. She just isn't sure.

The hysterical screaming always starts at 7.10pm or shortly after. It pierces through the air causing violent vibrations which shake her double- glazed windows and make her velvet curtains ripple. More disturbing is that the fact that it interrupts her daily dose of 'The One Show' and she is forced to hit the record button and watch it after the hysteria disperses.

'Stop Mummy! Sttoooopppppp....my eyes! My EYES!!!!!!!!!'

'Whatever is going on in there', she wonders. 'What is that woman doing to them??!'.

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Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

It's 2.32 am. It's March. A mother and father sleep soundly in their King-sized bed. A mild aroma of guff hangs in the air.

'Awwww! Uh, huh, uh, huh, uh, huh!!! Uggggggghhhhh!'

Mum leaps out of bed onto all fours like a startled cat. Her ears prick up. She immediately detects the smell of guff.  She darts into the kids bedroom towards the source of the disruption to find Kid 1 sobbing with his arms sprawled out in the air waiting to be lifted up.

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All About Bob.

All About Bob.

This post is all about Bob.

Last week marked the three year anniversary of his arrival here on planet Earth.

His birth was memorable. I want to tell you that a glorious white- feathered stork tapped on my window to alert me of his arrival into our lives. I want to tell you that as the magnificent bird arrived, I was sipping iced tea whilst listening to an early Mozart piano sonata and indulging in a relaxing professional foot massage. I want to tell you that I heard the tap on the window, put down my iced tea and opened the window and gathered my little bundle up in my arms, welcoming him into the world with a warm motherly embrace.

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Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner

Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner

My son came home from school this week and told us that he is being picked on by another kid in the playground.

A little punk by the name of Brian.

Naturally, we were very concerned. I immediately tried to sit my husband down to have a discussion about how to handle this somewhat delicate situation. But my husband didn't want to discuss it.  Instead, he disappeared into the spare room to 'think'.... and in his 'thinking room' he stayed for quite some time.

When he emerged, he had the following solutions to my son's problem:

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