Did I ever tell you about my family?
Well I was born in the north, or as you may better know it, God’s country. I am the much longed for baby girl born to my poor suffering mother after she had to endure the extreme misfortune of initially giving birth to not one but a pair of smelly boys.
Having children has been an eye opener for me. Finding out Santa was a fabrication in my youth was hard to deal with but really some of the lies I have been told since then regarding children are borderline obscene.
Take this popular urban myth; ‘your life will be richer when you have your own family’
I was full of nervous apprehension this morning. I tried to hide it so the children wouldn’t pick up on the butterflies that were zorbing through my stomach.
I had everything ready the night before, tuna pasta had been made for the kids breakfast, their kit was clean, and their shoes were gleaming.
Some ruffian has laid their lips on my daughter.
Some cheeky little so and so has had the nerve to declare himself my daughters first boyfriend and sealed the deal with a puckered up kiss which apparently she willingly accepted.
Potentially the most stressful time of my day falls between eight fifty and eight fifty-five. The time most commonly referred to as drop off. To any non owners of school …