Wednesday 28 September 2011

Rules Of The Special Love

Let's face it - sometimes us mothers don't feel like it. The kids have been hyper, the kids have been clingy, the kids in general...can often stop sexual desire dead in its tracks. Men do not see it this way. If you are a) AWAKE and b) ALIVE then they don't see why their needs cannot be met. Unfortunately there are certain occasions that raise their frisky heads like birthdays and anniversaries. Today is my wedding anniversary so I know the time is coming. As soon as The Husband tires of his laptop, he'll cuddle up close and make his move. I can't get out of it because whatdoyaknow we've got to rekindle our LOVE and celebrate nine *cough* wonderful *cough* years together. Avoidance is NOT AN OPTION, so instead I am referring to my (made up) book of Rules Of The Special Love:

1) Missionary only. To avoid any seizing up of muscles from unnatural poses and to enable over-the-shoulder facebooking and tweeting.
2) Definitely no doggy style because, I don't know what's happened but since turning 40 I'm getting more wind.
3) Never do it naked. (Although him seeing me naked might be a great avoidance tactic). Up the knicker leg is the best option plus you get a 'no need to wax' bonus.
4) No snogging and definitely no nipple foreplay. These boobies became the property of our children years ago.
5) Time slot of ten minutes. No negotiation. This may be extended to fifteen minutes if VERY special occasion where I have received bling, but only at my discretion.
6) NEVER ask me to shave or wax - this will only give off the impression that I want it more.
7) No role playing. Unless it involves sitting around watching crap telly.
8) Facial hair is illegal. If I'm putting out, then the least you can do is shave.
9) Sex toys are not an option. I only have that vibrator to keep The Toddler amused while I'm straightening my hair.
10) If I'm really having to do it, then I want at least two orgasms.

Husband - if you abide by these Golden Rules then you might find that I am more willing to engage. I might let it happen at Christmas too.

Monday 19 September 2011


It's dawned on me tonight that I've asked The Husband countless times to change the lightbulb in the hallway over the past two weeks. And has he done it - has he feck. In fact, there are currently 8 lightbulbs dead in total. If there was a power cut, it would not make much difference to this house. I suppose I could do them but I'd end up smashing glass everywhere and, not only is he taller than me, but this is a MAN'S JOB...just how ironing is MY JOB. Oh I'm all for feminism and that, but when it comes to certain jobs around the house I do think THE MAN should step in.
For example, he should:
1. Empty the bin and put the wheelie bin out.
2. Walk the dog at night time.
3. Get rid of the ugly pink carnations he's bought when they go rotten.
4. Sort out the wires at the back of the telly.
5. Adjust children's bicycle seats.
There are MANY jobs I could add to this and I still don't think it's a lot to ask. I do ENDLESS chores around this house that I never ever involve him in. I do not think there has ever been a time when he has had to ask me to get a good frock out for the school run. He has never had to remind me to feed the children some chicken nuggets. There has not been countless requests to organise the TV programmes in order I want to watch them. I am more than capable of making sure these jobs get done.
The Husband seems to think that you can 'carry over' jobs from month-to-month in much the same way that you carry over days off. But I've got his number on that one. I will add more jobs until it's so overwhelming that he will have to spend a WHOLE WEEK doing jobs. And I will stick a little list on the fridge just to annoy him some more.
Here is a list of jobs The Husband is very GOOD at:
1. Falling asleep in front of the telly.
2. Leaving the wet stuff in the back of the car for two days after swimming lessons.
3. Stepping over a pile of dirty washing and, on occasion, moving it to the kitchen.
And before you start - yes he does work very hard and brings home the bacon and all that jazz, but But BUT this house is his responsibility too. If I let him get away with the lightbulbs then where will it end? I will end up taking on ALL the man jobs on top of my own - whenever will I have time to read Grazia??
As I write The Husband is indisposed - with his laptop - in a partially lit kitchen. There is a lone lightbulb on the work surface that will stay there for several days before being returned to the shed - because it doesn't fit anywhere. Oh he will get around to changing the bulbs eventually. When it gets to a point where he can't say anything without me mentioning it. Then there will be much huffing & puffing I'm sure, followed by a request for time in the bedroom. He will think that 1 Lightbulb Fix = 1 Special Love. But no wife has ever made love to her husband that lightly.

Tuesday 6 September 2011

How To Survive The School Playground

The most essential part of your attire is Ugg boots. No matter what crappy, smelly clothes you are wearing they will always be offset by Uggs. If you really have to go to school in your pyjamas or joggers, make sure you tuck your pants into a good pair of Uggs. This post is not sponsored by Ugg Australia by the way.
Hats are good if they are stylish. Berets and flat caps will make you look crazy. Also, invest in a great winter coat preferably in a fab colour. Shades must be worn at most times, but not when it is raining as you will look like a tit.
Above all be confident in what you wear. You will be known as a Stylish Mummy and that is as important as being a Good Mummy. In my world, anyway.

Do not be tempted to make friends with the first mother that speaks to you. Chances are there is a reason why they are being friendly - they are either fundraising or have no other friends. If you immediately befriend them, once you realise that you've actually made a mistake, the fun mums will have already formed their clique to which you will never be admitted.
Stay friendly with all but keep a slight distance. True friendship will always shine through. Be warned though: The mummies you make friends with in Reception will probably be your enemies by Year 4. Sometimes it takes that long to realise that someone is a two-faced bitch.

Never ever get dragged into the Sport Of Competitive Parenting. You will never win. Do not discuss your child's achievements with anyone. Because I can guarantee their child will have done better. Or the teacher will immediately come up to you and have a word about your kid's behaviour that day. Save any bragging for that phone call to grandparents.

4. PTA
PTA is not a bad thing but do not think that it makes you important. It's great to help out at a few things but don't walk around with a clipboard and a whistle. PTA often organises fun events for parents too and if your social life is a bit crappy, a school quiz night can be a real saviour. That's how sad I am these days. And the kiddies love a summer fayre, even though you'll find that you've spent two months child benefit on the coconut shy.

Always find a fanciable Dad. Playground flirting makes the school run a bit nicer. Never overstep the mark by joking about a blow job in front of his children. It's got to be innocent and fun. Do not fantasise about him when you are having special love with your other half.

Please feel free to add to this, folks.

Sunday 4 September 2011

Go The Fuck To School

The end is nigh, the holiday almost done
The weather has been hot, rainy and cool
You've seen lots of friends, had loads of fun
Now please, go the fuck back to school

We've been on a train, in the car, on a boat
For a swim in the sea and the outdoor pool
I'll take you somewhere for one very last time
If you swear you'll go the fuck back to school

Together we've been every minute, hour and day
Don't say you'll miss me because I'm no fool
Once you're back in that class it will be Mummy who?
For pete's sake go the fuck back to school

You've done all the things you have wanted to do
There's been no teachers, homework or rules
Hell no we can't go back to the holiday now
You know where you can go - to school

There's been ice-creams, cakes, sweeties and puds
I've not fed you healthy stuff, mush or gruel
Yes you will eat up all your bloody packed lunch
When you go the fuck back to school

The house is trashed with toys, games and stuff
The garden full of bikes, wheelbarrows and tools
I just need some space back, a room of my own
So please children Fuck.Back.To.School

The stuff is all bought, the uniforms are ironed
Your pens, pencils, shoes and bags are supercool
What - you're feeling poorly now????
Hell no! Go the fuck back to school!

I've spent two months child benefit on you kids
I've been nice and kind, not nasty or cruel
Now give me back my mummy time
I've got two words for you kids - Fucking School

(Go The Fuck to Sleep by Adam Mansbach is the inspiration behind this post)