Righty, have been neglecting my new blogging activity of late. This will never do.
There are some fairly good reasons that I was considering not boring you with, but sod it, I’m going to bore you anyway. Isn’t that what blogging is all about?
1. I reduced my hours at work. I’m now only doing 32 hours a week. However, I’m still only me. So this gives me 5 hours less a week to blog interesting factlets about my daily life.
2. I thought I was going into early labour at 25 weeks last week.
Honestly, I was in complete agony. It was coming in waves – woke me up from my peaceful slumber. I screeched down the stairs at about 1am, stark naked, to rouse the man from whatever battlefield shooting game he was playing and was telling him with earnest sincerity how painful the whole thing was. Well, actually, I couldn’t speak through the ‘waves’ of pain. I was panting, saying things like, “it was never this bad with Child One”, grabbing onto the sofa and falling over etc. Then, after about an hour’s deliberation on whether I should ring the maternity unit, I felt like a needed a big poo. Uh-oh, thought I. Having watch enough reality TV births (and having had one myself), I was convinced that this was ‘it’.
And guess what?
Turns out I did, in fact, just need a big poo.
I went upstairs, sat (well, straddled whilst in immense pain) upon the porcelain throne and lo and behold, after 10 rather frightening minutes of the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, emptied the entirety of my bowels into the previously quite sparkling receptacle.
I’m strangely resisting going into more dramatic details but suffice to say ‘it was not poo of normal consistency’. I’m totally blaming work for this one, I had one of their surprisingly tasty ‘savoury cheese’ baguettes earlier in the day and I rather feel that it must have been past its mayonnaisey best.
The Man has now proclaimed that I am never to disturb one of his online killing sprees again just because I “need a poo”.
3. Laziness. I am lazy at work and I am a lazy blogger (read ‘bugger’). However, I have a Board meeting to attend in 45mins so rather than prepare, I’m now catching up on lost blogging time and will post this before leaving my desk. Oh yes.
Anyway, onto the rather interesting topic of this blog post… SCHOOL DINNERS.
Rather a furore has been created of late about the school dinner saga. As regular readers will know (yes, I’m still kidding myself here), my precious first born angel has just started school. Obviously, being bad mother of the year, he was signed up for school dinners. I am NOT (yes, it deserves capitals) going to spend my time making packed lunches, cleaning lunch boxes or trying to remember which particular type of seeds or nuts are or are not allowed. He will have them and eat them or he’ll go hungry. They are £2 a day.
But, here’s the rub. Seems I’m in a minority. I was standing waiting to drop him off on Friday (I generally do drop-offs once a week) and there were a bunch of mothers harping on about how unhealthy they were and akin to feeding your child refined sugar through an intravenous drip. BAD MUMMY me again. See, I just can’t get worked up about this. Yes, they have custard and sponge for some puddings and on Fridays it seems to be fish fingers, chips and beans but so bloody what? He’s four. He spends most of his time running around, falling over and twitching. He can’t keep still. He needs energy. He needs some sugar and he needs some fat. He wouldn’t eat an organic couscous rosti with red wine jus for fuck’s sake. In these situations, I do really want to scream “get a life, worry about things that matter”. Death, disease and pestilence. World peace. World poverty. Whatever floats your boat. But please, not that precious Jonnykins had a fish finger for his lunch.
There then followed their crucial middle class dilemma of what to do if the dinners become free. Can they sacrifice their fish finger principles if they’re free fish fingers? What an issue. And guess what, I’ll be lapping it up. Like the lazy, bad, lax mother that I am.
AND AND AND, I may even spend the money saved on processed meat, sweets and chocolate.
A plus tard, mes braves,
Bad Mummy x x x