Yesterday was World Book Day, and whilst I was struggling to hit my word count deadline, it was lovely to hear that The Beast was writing stories “just like you” at school. (I have a feeling he was probably more successful than me yesterday).
Traditionally March is one of my favourite months of the year (The Month of Aimee with birthday and Mother’s Day AND SPRING), and whilst last year I wasn’t in such a great place, this year I’m back on track, because this year March is the one month anniversary of my final “career change plan”.
It’s the first Monday of March, and what better way to kickstart the week than with the brand new Bad Mums Club linky, which this week is being hosted over at butwhymummywhy.
This month I’m going to talk about fibs, white lies, stretching the truth, being creative, whatever you call it it all boils down to one thing “shit we tell our kids to make life easier“.
You know when you’re being really good and healthy, but you know you’re having a pizza take away delivered at the end of the week? You look forward to it all day Friday, planning what you’re going to have and then, when it is finally delivered, you eat it savouring every single mouth watering taste, knowing with each bite, that it’s not agreeing with you. Then the morning after you wake up in a dough hangover haze, swearing you’ll never eat take-away pizza again. Except, by Thursday, you’ve forgotten the bad stuff and are just thinking of that amazing stuffed crust taste washed down with a glass of wine, and can’t wait to do it all over again.
That’s how half term turned out.
Just so you know, when I write this blog, I would like you to think I am wearing cool jeans, cool tops, and bouncing about in my house looking, well, cool.
But the truth of the matter is that actually I’m probably wearing a onesie and sitting next to my fan heater in an act of “heating-gate” rebellion.
Ok, here’s the thing, I have a thing about breakfast. It is, without a doubt, one of my favourite meals of the day. On my three work-from-home days I look forward to dropping the boys and coming home to make myself a breakfast, I think I may even sometimes start planning what I might have while I’m cooking our evening meal.