S**t, I am actually a grown up…….

There are moments in all of our lives that cause us to stop and have realisations about who we are as people. I have experienced these moments like many others at key points in my life such as when I got married, bought a house, had the boys etc. These things all made me realise that I am growing up, maturing and becoming an actual adult.

You then seem to forget all that and just get on with it and find the days and weeks flying by before the next realisation hits you. This last couple of weeks I think I have felt the most grown up I ever have. For so long now we have planned on extending our house. We have had no idea what we are doing and yet have slowly managed to get plans, permissions, quotes, surveys and all manner of other building type terms that I can’t recall.

We found our builder and work was scheduled to start in Spring which at the time seemed like a million years away. Fast forward what seems like twelve minutes and all of a sudden Spring was here (well ish, stupid snow) and it was time to begin. You can imagine that we were as usual ill prepared so spent a week clearing out the old, damp conservatory which we filled with essentials such as the tumble dryer, toys, unwanted furniture from my many moves around and of course wine. Trouble is all of that needed to go somewhere so we then had to make space, recycle, condense and move everything out. My best idea was that I would be a great help by drinking all the wine. Karl didn’t seem as enthusiastic about this as I was though. Odd.

Anyway we managed it and Day one arrived. Armed with rolls, 7000 tea bags, bacon, biscuits and our most smiling faces the builders arrived and the conservatory was no more in less than half a day. We then had the start of this week where the actual build bit commenced. The trouble was I was on lates and Karl was on early shifts which meant solo parenting for the one of us who was home and all the ordinary responsibilities as well as dealing with the build.

Now I imagine you are thinking, hold on Luce, you aren’t building the place yourself and the answer is no I’m not. I would be awful at building and we would end up with a big mess. I was however the grown up here to make decisions. Decisions about patios, measurements and to answer questions about topics I know nothing about like coving, mud and trenches. I was in consultation with Karl but I really didn’t like the pressure.

On day one all went well, I got the kids to school with no massive issues, had a shower and got dressed before the builders arrived so there were no awkward flashing moments, did all the washing up, cleaned the kitchen, made bacon rolls, cups of tea and bought a biscuit tin which I filled with chocolate digestives for their elevenses. I did however do the kitchen jobs dancing to Dua Lipa who was playing loudly on my IPod and it was only when I went outside to deliver said bacon rolls I realised I could be seen dancing in only the way I can. So perhaps not such an accomplished grown up after all! We also shouldn’t mention when the builder turned up and told me that he was pleased the delivery had arrived and I told him we hadn’t had any deliveries and then for him to point at the giant digger that someone had parked on my driveway without me seeing or hearing. As if we do mention it I come across very badly!

Under the floorboards in the old conservatory we found a copy of the News of the World from June 1966 which although discoloured is in perfectly good condition. We also found a message etched into the concrete from the owner of the house before us who moved in with his wife when the house was built in the sixties, raised a family here and then sold the house to us I think to go and live with family who could care for him after his wife died.

I thought for a moment that he would probably be sad with the changes we are making but then it occurred to me that we like him are raising a family. A family that consists of two boys who eat anything and grow it seems at lightening speed.

Today being my first day off this week it has been nice to just watch how the builders are getting on, to take in the new and to let it hit me that I am a grown up. A dancing around the kitchen, awfully organised, do it all by the skin of my teeth grown up. I did get to work yesterday and after about an hour realise that I hadn’t done up the zip on my ankle boots but I’m chalking that down to tiredness!

Being grown up is an incredibly scary thing, it’s pressured, it comes with bumps in the road (or in our case storm drain pipes where the footings should be) and it tests you and your limits. It’s also amazing as you can be in charge of your own destiny, you can provide for the people you love and you can make positive decisions for their benefit. In this case the boys getting their own rooms so they don’t kill each other.

I have often thought that I would love to go back to my teenage years, to start afresh and not make all the mistakes, to learn the lessons sooner and to appreciate it more. I do though like the idea that 34 year old me is making the memories that one day I can write in the concrete about. Even if I am making them with the addition of some wrestling, screaming children and disagreements with Karl about where the log burner should go.

I will probably bore you to tears with the extension but if you are interested keep checking back for progress. You know there will be some comedy gold moments along the way!

Lucy xxx


My bullet journal for 2018

Earlier this week I put a post on Instagram about how I had started a bullet journal for next year and whether people would find it useful for me to write a post about how I had put it together, how it helps with mindfulness and my mental health.

So, here you go! Last year I saw many a YouTube video on setting up a bullet journal and thought it was a fab idea. I loved the idea of a mood tracker, sleep tracker, keeping up with social media followers and many other tables and graphs that I could colour in. The reality was I made the whole thing far too complicated and when I fell behind with the various trackers I had created it made me feel stressed, anxious and like a failure.

This is if course an overreaction but when you are someone suffering with anxiety and depression you really don’t need anymore pressures that could potentially make you feel even more shitty about yourself so I gave up. But as the year has gone on I’ve thought more and more about how much I like to doodle and how a much more simplified version would actually be a very good thing.

I bought a cheap as chips notepad from Home Bargains which had lined pages and dots along the top and bottom for ease of lines.

I have a pot of pens and pencils that I dig out for doodling when I can so felt that I could use those so didn’t need to buy anymore stationary than that. I mostly used Berol felt tips, some thin nibbed black gel pens, pencils and a ruler. I decided to incorporate my favourite parts of the bullet journal I had done last year without all the stress so started with a simple drawing on the front page. This could be anything but I chose to make it displaying the year and my name.

For anyone who knows me or follows my Instagram you will know I love stars so these seemed to be perfect for the front page. I wanted inspirational quotes to play a huge part in this years journal as they do in everyday life but decided that the front page was good as it was. I then went on to a simple Index, I left four pages for this so I can have room to Index the whole book. This is really important for how I’m doing the journal as it will make finding what I’m looking for so much easier throughout the year.

I love lettering so really enjoy this but was amazed by how many lettering tutorials there are on Pinterest, YouTube and Instagram so even if you are someone who isn’t too keen on lettering you can find a font that looks good and that you can master simply. I then added pages for goals and aims, blog ideas and hopes and dreams for the year. I can fill these in as I go and reflect back on them at the end of 2018. As you can see I’ve not quite finished the colouring in but it gives you an idea and is really simple. I’m not tracking anything, giving myself dates to get stuff done by but simply jotting down things as they come into my head.

In the templates I have seen many others use the pages after this for all the various trackers, favourite quotes, meal plans and all manner of other bits and pieces but again I found this hard as I wasn’t sure how many pages to leave before I started my actual diary and if I wanted to add others in it would look odd after so I’ve kept it simple again and just gone straight into the year.

For every new month I’ve used a double page spread for the month with a drawing and a notes section but this could be adapted in anyway which suits you best. That’s the thing, it needs to suit you and help you not confuse you and leave you feeling daft for not doing it in the way everyone else is. Again these aren’t all finished but these give you an idea and I have to say it’s so relaxing doing that monthly page that I am really looking forward to doing all the others.

Again the beauty of this is that you can do it however you want so January is a bit different but as I went on I found what works for me best and what I enjoyed most drawing. Then I went really controversial and used a double page spread for the month so a line for each day of the month, it’s much quicker to do, will still give me the space I need but didn’t need so much effort put into it that I ended up giving up after the 76,000th shout of ‘Mummy!’ From the boys. I managed to get the whole year marked up in less that a day and with opportunities to add on as I wanted which felt like a real achievement.

At the end of every month I put a gratitude page and a reflections page for the month and there is plenty of space to add favourite quotes, doodles and stick things in should I want to.

Then after the year I started to add on the additional pages I wanted to, no trackers as I have neither the time or the pressure of them but a page for meal ideas, a page for house ideas and I’m sure there will be others to come as the year goes on. Here I can doodle my favourite quotes and stick in pictures. All of these can be found easily by the Index and I have loads of room to add on as many pages as I want up to the end of the notebook because I’ve kept the journal so simple.

There are so many different ways for doing these bullet journals and none are right or wrong. I’ve kept it simple, functional and easy to maintain so I can make the most of the mindfulness and organisation while not pressuring myself to keep up with trackers and charts. I can write down as little or as much as I want or I can simply use it as a diary to keep up with all the things going on in my life.

I hear you say that I could just go and buy a diary but as I said the thought that I have created something totally bespoke to me and suitable for my needs is a great feeling. It also gives me somewhere to be creative and something to share with others (I’ve already had some questions about where I got the idea from) now I don’t have masses of free time and run around like a mad woman (oh the irony) most of the time but one of my biggest moans of the last year was feeling unorganised. This will assist and can always be with me only being in a small notepad.

There are lots of journals and planners already made up for this purpose and some that are fantastically aimed at those with MH issues to all degrees however because I love to draw this option suited me better. So many people have acknowledged that next year they want to live life more simply and this is one of those ways for me, doing something I want to do but in my own way in a simple manner.

I would love to hear what you think, to see if you’ve been inspired to do anything similar and how you are going into 2018. Feel free to get in touch!

Thank you for reading this year, for being there, for taking on board me and all the crap I go on about and for supporting Tired From Whitstable, both here, in the newspaper and across my social media. I am blown away and can honestly say you make a crazy woman very happy!

Happy new year you lovely people xx

The things Mums do…..

I am a mum to boys, anyone who has ever read my blog before will know this and every so often I go a little bit mad.

Today is one of those days, I have just had what I can only describe as a childlike tantrum at having to clear up wee from the floor around the toilet for what feels like the millionth time this week. They have a body part that allows them to aim and yet it’s like they go into the bathroom, stick on a blindfold and just have a laugh pissing fast and loose all over the place all the while thinking ‘it’s alright Mummy will clear it up’

Now as much as I have become an expert in cleaning up other peoples piss from the second the boys were born I have to be honest and say it really isn’t my favourite thing. It smells, it goes literally everywhere and leaves nasty stains. It is my most used sentence of every single day ‘WHO HAS WEED OVER THE SIDE OF THE TOILET AGAIN’ only for every single male (including my husband) to tell me it wasn’t them.

Perhaps I have developed some kind of urinary dementia and in fact it’s me soiling the bathroom floor hundreds of times a day but I actually think the chances of this being the case are about the same as me being elected as the next US president (I guess stranger things have happened!)

When I was getting ready to go out on Friday last week for the first night out in at least six months I needed to have a shower. I explained to both the boys that I would be using the one and only bathroom and if they needed the toilet they should go. No one did of course, in fact I don’t think either of them even answered me. Mid way through my shower as I was shaving my legs which I have to say had required shaving for some time Leo appeared dancing around and had a massive poo on the toilet. He then looked at me and said ‘who is going to wipe my bum?’ Now Leo my youngest is six and should really be able to do this for himself however as with many things when it comes to it he miraculously doesn’t remember how. He tried after I moaned and managed to get shit all over the bathroom floor. So, one leg smooth and silky the other looking like a yeti’s I had to get out of the shower and clear up him, the floor, myself and take a number of deep breaths. I then got back in the shower only for him to say ‘Mummy, why have you got only one hairy leg?’

I literally skipped out of the door when Karl got home but it seems strange that he doesn’t have these issues when he has the boys and I’m pretty sure he would say.

We then have the continuous arguments about doing things, things such as needing to wear pants, needing to change pants, needing to put pants in the washing basket, needing to not wipe bogies over the walls, needing to understand that it’s not appropriate to fart anywhere you fancy and many other basic rules of life and hygiene which both boys refuse to acknowledge or adhere to. Who cares about brushing teeth, being clean or wearing the same pants 21 days in a row anyway?

There is also this bizarre ritual I have to go through on a daily basis (when I’m not wiping up wee) where I have to find things the boys have lost. We do this not just at home but anywhere we go and we can lose literally anything at all. They come out of the doors at school wearing nothing but a shirt, trousers and shoes and daily I ask ‘ where is your bag/jumper/coat/lunch box/drinks bottle’ you get the drift. Only to be met by a vacant look of I have no idea and I then do the annoyed mum route March around the playground, town, school, house, car or any other place we have been.

I know I am moaning, I know I am so very lucky to have beautiful, healthy and happy children but some days I do feel like I’m going ever so slightly insane (well more insane than usual) Anyway must go, Nate needs a poo!

Analysing Anxiety……

As many of you know and have been bored to tears by me for the majority of this year about I suffer with depression and anxiety. Always have in some way and quite probably always will. This year so far has been the hardest journey for me out of all the previous ones. So much so that this one I feel is the one that will change the way I deal with me forever.

These changes are positive and all I believe what will make me going forward be in control more of how depression and anxiety affects me and not letting it beat me again (yes I know I’ve said this a million times before!) One of my main issues was and I realise now has always been a total lack of self esteem. My inner dialogue has always been negative to the point where I have talked myself out of doing the smallest and simplest things because I have simply felt I’m not able to, would be laughed at or that as usually I am totally and utterly useless so why bother trying.

This anxiety that came out of this inner dialogue meant that I had literally stopped myself from doing things. To give totally honest examples I would plan how I would walk into and out of the school on the school run as I didn’t want to walk a way where that many people would see me and potentially not like me, what I write, how I look or who I am. Even though of course the vast majority of those people don’t know me and even if they did probably not well enough to condemn me and ostracise me and lets be honest if people don’t like me I really can’t do much about that and  hiding myself away won’t change their feelings about me. It even got so bad that earlier this year I would park the car in a road quite away from school and would watch the clock until five to three then need to rush in knowing that the children would be coming out as I got there so I would avoid seeing lots of people. It got that bad! It sounds ridiculous and I’m even laughing at myself a bit writing it but that was what anxiety was doing to me.

I did the same with parking my car at work and even trips to the toilet where I would need to leave the office I worked in I would plan for times I felt would be quiet and I wouldn’t bump into people. I didn’t want to have to explain my issues to people or feel I was being judged so I tried to disappear. Of course no one can actually disappear, unless you have one of three Deathly Hallows and your last name is Potter! But I would have done anything to be able to. I was literally driving myself mad and even the slightest knock would turn me into a wreck and made me feel like I simply couldn’t go on.

I realise now that my anxiety goes hand in hand with my depression and the more down I am the more anxious I become. The issue of course as I have said so many times before was that I simply did not have the option of shutting down, I had to fight it for my children, my husband and the people I love but, most of all for me. I am a human being who has all manner of issues and experiences that have bought me to where I am today but what has gone before me does not take away from the fact that I have a future and that I like everyone else deserve to be happy. My own version of happy of course, it might not be what would make others happy but who cares, happiness is a personal choice and it really has nothing to do with anyone else. As long as those closest to me are okay and we are happy then that will do me.

Don’t get me wrong I don’t strut around with my head held high but I try to smile more (not in a creepy way I hope) and if I feel anxious about walking a certain way or doing a specific thing I have a little word with myself and ask what is the worst that could happen? The honest answer from my more peaceful mind is not a lot and if something did well you know what as a thirty four year old woman I would have to deal with it. I can’t go on over analysing everything and as the very wise Newt Scamander said, ‘worrying only makes you suffer twice’ and I believe lovely people that he is right.

I can’t pretend that depression and therefore anxiety won’t be a part of my life anymore but I have finally made peace with the fact that they are a part of who I am and I am their master not the other way around. I also will do myself no good whatsoever telling myself I am ugly, no good, worthless, stupid or that I need to prove my worth to others just so I feel validated. I can validate me and other than eating far too much cake and having a slightly unhealthy obsession with Keeping Up with the Kardashians I’m okay. My children are happy (albeit appallingly behaved the vast majority of the time) Karl and I are in the best place I think we have been in a long time, our home is messy but full of love and there is cider in the fridge.

This may seem like a strange post to write but I wanted to write it to emphasise how you can come through a crisis and although you will still need to handle the triggers you can give yourself the tools to do so. I was chatting to someone the other day and we talked about it like having an extra handbag. Like the one I always carry that has powder, deodorant, my phone, a notepad, my money, lego figures (mum to boys!) plasters and a variety of other delights I also have the invisible one that contains all the things I have learned in CBT and all the tools that I can use to get me through the day with a smile on my face and feeling okay about me.

As I have mentioned in the past my Pinterest account helps me massively in this respect and I see it as a form of therapy each and every day to scroll through positive and inspirational quotes that lift me and make me feel okay to be who I am.

This has been a hard one to write and I hope not terrible for you to read. I will continue to give updates as I find it helps me to hear about others journeys and if I can help or offer kind words to even one person then it makes it totally worth putting my story out there. Thanks for reading and if you feel the need to get in touch please do so via my contact page.



Sunday ‘fun’ 

Hey all, how are you? 

I am in a typical me fashion feeling low again, I imagine the weather changing, a really busy week and general grown up stresses are to blame. I also genuinely think I might be going through early menopause as having had a hysterectomy even with keeping my ovaries I’m at a greater risk of it coming within five years of the op. 

I am going to the doctor tomorrow who I’m sure will put his head in his hands when he sees me screaming inside his head ‘not her again!’ Anyway, being a bit low I’ve been feeling massively tired, so much so that this afternoon while snuggling with the boys on the sofa watching ‘Percy Jackson the Lightning Thief’ for the seven millionth time (that’s just today) I fell asleep. 

I woke up two hours later (neither boy had moved) to a missed call from one of my best friends so I got up in a slightly dazed and confused state to put the kettle on (who doesn’t need tea when they have just woken up?!) and called her as I walked into the kitchen. Not really aware of what was going on I went to the fridge and heard a noise behind me. This was Alf our black and white cat who is about fifteen and should be acting his age however he still thinks he is a kitten.

The next thing I knew a brown lump fling itself across the kitchen floor. I jumped and almost hit the ceiling and was screaming down the phone to my poor friend who I assume thought I was being murdered or having a serious episode. It was a mouse, a live mouse that Alf was tossing around the kitchen like a juggler. I ran from the room, shut the door and continued to scream down the phone to my friend who by Now was in hysterics. She has been called to help me with spiders before and knows how much of a wuss I am.

So the boys who being boys should have been saying, ‘it’s alright Mum, you may not get to have pretty pink things around the house or the choice of not having bogeys wiped on you but we are boys, we’ve got this’ but they didn’t, they were worse than me and were both river dancing around the living room. 

I called Karl, he is an hour away, he can’t help and being honest was about as sympathetic as if I had just slapped him around the face with a dead fish. So I was on my own. I got a little box in the hope of putting it over the mouse and getting it out in the most humane way possible. I opened the kitchen door a tiny bit and Nate my seven year old pushed me though slamming the door shut behind me. Like when they lock you in the room on the Crystal Maze and Just stand outside the door. These two also barricaded the door so the mouse couldn’t get out. Of course that also meant I couldn’t get out either. 

The poor mouse was wedged between a wooden toy lorry and a box of recycling bits (my home is never tidy) and I spent a number of minutes dancing around too scared to move anything incase it ran under the fridge. Eventually I had the nerve to move the lorry and quickly dropped the box down but not quite over the whole of the poxy thing so it was struggling to escape staring at me. I managed to sort it and then almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. 

I then had to push some card under the box and get the mouse out of the house, around the toy assault course and avoiding Alf who was prowling around unhappy I had screamed at him. I released the mouse (a wood mouse I have identified from google) and then both boys appeared with some cheese. I have no idea what the cheese was meant to do but Nate seemed happy that he could just eat the cheese and they carried on as if nothing had happened. 

I may be making a huge meal out of the whole incident but I don’t do pests, I don’t catch things and I certainly don’t stay calm in situations that involve any of them. You should see me if a wasp flies at me, it’s like watching that episode of Friends where Pheobe likes to run. 

Anyway today I have learned that I can manage totally on my own, the boys need some better training, I may need to pay for my friend to have hearing aids and that wood mice are very cute as long as they aren’t leaping around your kitchen.

Hope you are having a lovely weekend xxx

A sign of things to come? 

Hi all, how are we? 

Another week has literally flown by as have another set of ‘rest’ days where I’ve not managed to get many jobs ticked off my list and feel like my head is spinning.

It’s funny how we seem to move in periods of time and assure ourselves that those periods will change how we do things. For example I said to myself numerous times over the summer that once the boys were back at school I would write more (ha ha) and that I would be able to get back into running (rolling on the floor laughing) I have no idea how I am filling all this time other than working, mumming (is that a word) and sleeping which seems to be all I want to do currently.

I have so much to do and so much that I love to do as well as the stuff I absolutely have to do such as paying the mortgage, food shopping, raising tiny humans and making sure all the various school letters are replied to (how many each and every week?!) that my head is spinning and I’m not sure that will stop anytime soon.

I keep thinking, ‘Luce, you just need to be more organised’ like there is some magical switch I can push and all of a sudden I will be chilled, calm and meal planned to the max but for me that just doesn’t seem to work. I have watched Fantastic Beasts and where to find them at least three times in the last week and it’s not the special effects that I marvel at it’s the ability to wave a wand and clean a room, fix anything that’s broken and the ability to move from one place to another in seconds. If only I were a witch. Imagine how efficient I would be then! 

But I digress, it is of course all my own fault, I have my three jobs and I have to do them all to the best of my ability. I’m a writer and I love all the things that come with it I just have to fit writing and creativity around my most important job being a mum, the one that will mean the most in the future and will potentially make a difference to the world (prime ministers, sportsmen or the inventors of some crazy video game, who knows!) then of course is the one I go to most days of the week that pays my bills and keeps us topped up in Lego and me in Aldi almond milk chocolate. 

I’m not the only one either, so many parents are doing exactly the same as me each and every day without a total lack of  understanding how the clock works and how to double the number of hours in a day. So….. how do you do this? Any suggestions please let me know. I would love some input. Or a life coach who will also act as a mentor and personal trainer. That’s not too much to ask surely?! 

Happy new week lovely people xxx

Compassion, realism and getting stuck in a jungle……

Hey all, I’m sorry I’ve been relatively quiet lately, being honest I’ve been suffering a bit of a writers block because I usually write about how I’m feeling and this being a massive transitional phase I’m finding it all a bit overwhelming.

CBT and hypnotherapy are going well and I’m working each day to be a more compassionate, confident and less self loathing me. This is of course very hard work but I honestly believe that anything worth having is worth working hard for.

Compassion is an interesting thing for me to be thinking about as it’s something I’ve always felt I understood and can give to others freely. Turns out I’m awful at being compassionate towards myself and this is an area that needs significant improvement. I’ve started by not expecting so much from myself. I don’t mean not setting goals or looking to achieve things as I’m still a driven person but I’m much more realistic in my ideas about things and that gives me the luxury that if things don’t go quite according to plan I don’t end up in an anxious state and telling myself it’s all my fault. 

I realise that I am happiest when life is simple, when I have the people I love around me and when I am laughing. You don’t need to be in a nightclub to have a nice evening and you certainly don’t need to be in six inch heels (I love them and they make my legs look so much nicer but my poor feet!)

Just last night we went after work to meet some friends on their camp site where they are staying for the weekend. The plan was a BBQ and some drinks. The boys were excited to play with their children and we were excited to have a relax with good conversation and some prosecco (well perhaps that was just me!) 

I wore a maxi dress, flip flops and a little kimono which was perfectly acceptable for the balmy Whitstable evening we left home to. However it was much more windy in Folkestone and it became clear quite soon that I was a cardigan down! 

We decided to walk from the top of the cliff which is where the campsite is to the bottom and the beach. Sounds so easy doesn’t it however eighty five active minutes on my Fitbit later, some nasty scratches from brambles, some stinging nettle stings and my hair looking like Monica in that episode of Friends where the humidity got to her we still hadn’t found a beach and gave up. But do you know what, it didn’t matter at all. We laughed, drank more prosecco, chatted and mocked ourselves for our appalling orienteering. The children played and we didn’t end up home until gone eleven pm. 

This morning I had the grand idea of a chilled out Saturday where we would mooch around the Farmers Market in town and have a light lunch before the boys had a friend’s birthday party to go to. We did indeed go to the Farmers Market and I bought a beautiful bunch of flowers and the boys each had a fresh pretzel. The boys after about four minutes decided that they had got bored and kept in very loud voices saying helpful things such as, ‘this is rubbish’, ‘why isn’t the food free’ and ‘why do you want more flowers’. 

We then went to the lovely Whitstable Museum which is run by some fantastic and knowledgable volunteers who very kindly let the boys handle a giant gun/musket that had just been donated and showed them various bits and pieces that we have seen many times before but they love each time. Their particular favourite is digging for sharks teeth and various Whitstable artefacts in the kids area. 

Then it was off to Champs, one of our fab bakeries/cafes. We stop here many times in the week for cakes after school but today was all about the bacon and egg rolls. I was excited to sit with a cuppa and all my boys and just enjoy some time. Leo however had other ideas and squirted Ribena everywhere, kept knocking my arm every time I tried to take a sip of tea, kept kicking Karl under the table and then wiped a bogie on my arm. Nate was much better behaved and was looking through the local paper which happened to have my column in with a picture of the boys. How one seven year old child can turn a small newspaper into a million pieces of paper in a numerical order unknown to man is beyond me but he managed it. 

Karl and I managed to eat our rolls and the boys munched on theirs which gave us about four minutes peace before Karl (bruises forming on his legs) said, ‘Luce, I can’t sit here anymore’. So off we went, the picture of family life, the children sporting Whitstable Mueseum badges, me carrying a beautiful bunch of flowers no one any the wiser to the fact that one of us was covered in Ribena, one in newsprint, one in spilled tea and the other unscathed but with slightly injured legs from his five year olds restless leg syndrome. 

The birthday party was fab and I like a normal mother treated myself to a strawberry slush puppy and made jokes about the lack of vodka in it before wondering what people would think about a boozing mother at a bowling party. It didn’t have vodka in don’t worry, though if I had enough change and hadn’t spent it all on the various gaming machines I may have been tempted! 

Have a fantastic rest of your weekend xx