What's a girl got to do to get out of the house?

After weeks of having a fairly lazy time my life has suddenly gone MAD....

I have three looming deadlines. One for the end of the week. One for the end of next. And one (the most important one) for 21 December. I feel like I am chucking three balls in the air and just watching them drop... The trouble is a 9-3 working day just isn't long enough.

Last night was another mum's night out. This time it was no 4's, and a) given that I had run out of excuses for not attending and b) by the time no 4 is left at school on her own all my other mummy friends will be long gone so I facultatively reckoned I should start cultivating some more, if I am not to be left mournfully standing alone in the playground contemplating the glory days when I knew everyone in it

As well as the mum's night out, it was also no 2's first brownie carol singing adventure. This takes place annually at our local train station, and is followed by a Christmas party. Now me, I think this a tad ambitious myself. And having one year had the dubious pleasure of walking twenty over excited little girls back to brownies, trying to prevent them from death by walking under a car, I also think it is plain bonkers. This year my friend kindly did the brownies bit, while I looked after her other little girl.

First off, I get to school with no 2's brownie uniform and discover that she could actually wear her own clothes, so she is in a strop as she doesn't want to borrow friend's clothes. So friend's mum kindly pops by our house to pick up the clothes. No 2 also informed me at 8pm the previous night that she has to write a three minute talk for today. Nothing like leaving it to the last minute... So, she agrees she will write it at her friend's house. Flatteringly, the subject of her talk is My Favourite Book, and she has chosen my marathon book. I suspect because it mentions her... I am still not sure I should have let the children read it, but they all seemed keen, so I'm hoping any rude bits will have gone over their heads.

When friend had departed, I decided to sweep leaves in the front (as you do) as we now have a new brown recycling wheelie bin for garden waste. Which is great, as rather then digging stuff up and dumping it down the garden, I can dump it in the bin instead. Meanwhile no 4 and her friend had fallen out, so I had to leave the leaves half done and sort that dispute out. Then I grabbed a quick hour on the computer for my serious deadline (of which more in another blog), and then handed over the computer to no 1 (who is rapidly becoming more computer literate then me) and went to make tea.

Being a girl with a lot of foresight, and not fancying tuna pasta, I cooked Spouse and I salmon instead. My aim was to eat it at 7.30 after the littlies were in bed, before I collected no 2 from her party. Oh, the best laid plans....

At 6.15 the doorbell rang - it was no 4's friend's dad who was collecting her. This prompted huge wails all round and no 4 didn't let up for nearly half an hour, which was trying to say the least.

No 3 then decided she HAD to go on the computer too. So I let her play on our old knackered computer while no 1 looked up information about the Amazon for her geography homework.

Then I put the bath on and spent a fruitless ten minutes trying to persuade 3 &4 that they really did need to get in. By this time it was 7.20, I still hadn't eaten and the phone rang. I handed it over to Spouse and tried to extricate the littlies from the bath. After much bad tempered splashing, I got them out and in their pyjamas. No 4 was demanding a story, but I had no time, so I left no 3 on storytelling duties as Spouse was still on the phone, and I really, really had to go.

I got to brownies at 7.5o, and went to the party room to discover nary a brownie in sight. They were all downstairs rehearsing for the nativity on Sunday. Oh bugger. It's not as though they'd been doing anything else that evening. Who in their right minds would organise a programme of carolsinging/party/rehearsals for a bunch of eight year olds? And the old dear in charge looked like she was going to keep them till kingdom come, till I intervened and said I really really had to take them home now, as it was a school day today.

Then it was back to drop friend off, and pick her mum up as she was coming to mums night out too. We got back, I ran upstairs and got changed, and then we hoofed it straight out again...

And no, I didn't get to eat.

This morning no 2 presented me with a crumpled scrap of paper. Can you type that up mum, she asked. What in between making lunches/breakfasts/chasing children to brush their teeth?

Luckily she is a child who goes for the quickest option, so she hadn't actually written very much. It was full of spelling mistakes, but very funny.

So here for your delectation and delight is no 2's three minute talk.

Ah, praise from an eight year old, is praise indeed....

(incidentally, she can spell, so she tells me, but she was in a hurry...)

My Three Minute Talk

My three minute talk is about Running on Empty: Diary of a Marothon Mum, by Julia Williams, otherwise known as My Mum.

This book is about how my mum fought to run the marothon.

It all started with a seriol non-runner (my mum) who wants to lose weight but doesn’t know how, when suddenly she gets a call from her twin sister Ginia who asks if she would like to do the marothon with her. Julia wants to say no, it’s her disire to scream noooo, wich is wy of course she says …. Yes.

This book is special to me because it was written by mum & it explains how hard it was running the marothon.

My fave part is when she says she couldn’t have done it without five special people( I wonder why, Mum)

I’d recommend this book to anyone.

Thank you for listening to my three minute talk.