SUPERMUMMY - MY ARSE

It dawned on me this morning that there isn't, in fact, such a thing as a Supermummy. We, as mothers, think they exist but actually it's a load of bollocks. I think now I've discovered this, it's going to change motherhood around the world. Or maybe not.
We have recently bought a Land Rover Discovery. Actually I say "We" but it was The Husband because let's face it I've got naff all money and I'm an expert at stealing from him. This purchase came about for two reasons:
1) We need the space.
The kids/dog/adults/baggage/snacks/crap/buggy in one vehicle has meant that every car journey has ended in tears/shouting/a slap/me storming out at traffic lights. The only way this family could go forward in a happy manner was to purchase a car that would hold us all for at least five minutes without it kicking off.
2) I had bashed the old car on one too many occasions.
These occasions included slamming wing mirror against various objects, scraping front/back panels about 3287 times and reversing into posts, walls and lampposts. Plus the inside was a toxic waste dump of old sweets, fruits shoots, dog dirt and cake. Basically The Husband could not ever never pick up one of his VIP clients to take them for a power lunch.
So I'm driving around in this car which is like the Holy Fecking Grail of any mother. I've been coverting one for years and I know plenty of mums that aspire to have one too.
But here's the rub - I'm still me.
I'm driving through the village this morning with swanky wanky car, my Ugg boots, my Louis Vuitton bag - looking the part I guess, of that Supermummy we've all green-eyed at - but I feel like a dick. A absolute prize cock. It just isn't me.
Sure I'm grateful that I've got these nice things but I've realised that they are not important - they will not magically turn me into a Supermummy. Because I still have to deal with all the shit of picking up the mess, cooking dinner for kids that moan, digging the whole toilet roll out of the loo, cleaning up spilt juice and wiping bums. And that Supermummy we see around town has to do the same entire thing as well. Looking the part is nothing. It doesn't mean that you will suddenly enjoy being a mum and bake cupcakes and go to the gym. It just means that for maybe a tiny moment, even if it's two seconds a week, you will think you are a Supermummy and for that two seconds I suggest milking it. After all, there'll be a random mum looking at you, wanting to be you and, well, you don't want to disappoint them, do you?

A LITTLE BREAK

Yeah because, you know, I blog really regularly at the moment - NOT.
Anyway I'm going on holiday for a week. PROMISE will blog when I get back. Not that many people care.
Love Ya!

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.