Help! I live with football and cricket addicts

The bambino's grandpa was away for a few days which meant that I had the TV to myself and I could switch it off when I felt like it. It was blissful to catch up on a couple of episodes of Heroes that I'd recorded (or as Americans say Tivo'd) and I was able to wean the bambino off her mounting addiction to cricket and football. He returned last night and practically sprinted into the sitting room to put the football on in preparation for the Man United game that was starting an hour later.

"It doesn't start for an hour dad..." the boyf said with a grin.
"Are you sure?" his dad said with a look of fear.
"Yes dad...I have been watching Wednesday night football for years..." His dad still looked suspicious.

Just as I was thinking that I'd creep upstairs and watch Hollyoaks (you KNOW I love that show!), the boyf legged it upstairs and turned on the cricket! The bambino who had woken up from a mystery early evening nap was quickly grabbed by the boyf before his dad got to her (I see his competitive spirit is coming out...) and a few minutes later I popped upstairs to stake my claim on the TV. The bambino was looking very cosy on her dads lap as he cuddled and chatted to her whilst watching the cricket. "Hello cheeky face" I beamed at her. She looked at me like I was disturbing her and then she went back to focusing on the cricket. I stomped back downstairs to finish the dinner and wondered how I'd ended up with a house full of sports addicts.

"It's 7.42...." his dad announced.
"Jeez...the game starts at 7.45" the boyf laughed.

Moments later they were both engrossed in the game and speaking to either one of them was a waste of time. Whilst I fed the bambino I had to listen to them doing their own running commentary and the boyf airing his frustrations.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you both sound?!"
They both laughed and the boyf started explaining why he was annoyed about the game and I felt my mind go blank and it was a Homer Simpson moment of "Bla bla bla bla..." replacing his speech.

My ma turned up for one of her 'surprise' visits about twenty minutes into the match. I couldn't help but snigger to myself as her and the boyf's dad were introduced and he looked wounded at having to take his eyes off the match. The bambino was just about to go to bed when she arrived but my ma insisted on her staying up and lo and behold, an hour later and the bambino was in meltdown mode. We'd managed to calm her down for a while by letting her sit on the sofa whilst she tried to fit her entire right hand in her mouth with one eye on the Man U game. Then my ma touched her 'fro and she burst into tears...clearly believing that she was about to have it combed.

By the time the bambino was settled (it was actually the first time since she's been born that she refused to settle), the football was over and I was gagging for my bed. Fortunately I'd recorded Heroes. The boyf said he was tired too and was in bed by the time I was finished brushing my teeth...watching the cricket...

"Oh NO! Get that SH*T off!" Moments later I was snuggled up under the duvet watching Heroes...and the boyf was snoring like he was in danger of choking himself...

I may hide the TV next Wednesday and see how they crumble and fall...Well I would if I was capable of lifting a 42"....

Hmmm I'm a Housewife, Countdown to Family Drama

It was 9.30 last night and I finished putting away all of the clean laundry, I suddenly thought "F*cking hell! I'm a bloody housewife!" Now before anyone gets the wrong idea, I was not doing housework all day into the dead of night and instead I am a 'victim' of my own pisspoor time management. There were invites to sort for the impending christening, blogging to do, a 45 minute bitching session with Nac, amongst other pressing matters... As I listened to the bro explain lengthily about his love of Girls of the Playboy Mansion and "booty clapping" to the boyf, I stopped feeling worried that not going to work is making my brain go soft....

With less than 3 weeks to go until the bambino's christening, it is only a matter of time till I go into meltdown. Sometimes it feels like we're always in the middle of the next big thing. As I visusalise most of our families coming together, (the boyf's, my ma's, and my dads) I hear circus music as this has the possibility of fireworks...explosions even... This is going to be one big crackfest and I'm curious as to what's going to go down.

Will my ma and dad be speaking to each other or will she be scared that he'll show her up like he did at my birthday? Will there be fight for Caribbean or African supremacy? Will there be a dance off? Will the bambino do a poo during the baptism? Who will get pissed out of their head and say something inappropriate? Will the grandmothers be competing? Will my ma be having a hot date? Will the boyf and I be hiding at the back of the room snickering to ourselves at the mayhem of our beloved friends and family? Will there be a fight for the jerk chicken and patties? Cue dramatic music and closing credits.... Hmm I may need a holiday after this christening...or a security detail....

Ooh, before I forget...I am finally getting round to redesigning my blog so if you land here over the next few days and think I'm on crack, it's just a temporary glitch...

Exhaustion, Theory Test, TV Loving Bambino, and In the Big Girls Room

Jaysus I can't believe a whole week has gone by...Thank God I didn't go saying that I planned to blog more regularly which is what I had intended to say...Maybe I'll just surprise people...

It's been a pretty hectic week which was compounded when I felt myself feeling exhausted for the first few days. The bambino did her very best to wear out my poor boobs as she tried to settle back into our timezone. In the midst of all of this, I had to study for and take my poxy driving theory test and I found myself going into a panic meltdown as I tried to combat tiredness, hungry bambino, and oodles of multiple choice questions. It was my own fault really as I had intended to pack the study book for our trip and forgot it, which left me with 5 days to study of which 3 disappeared into a wedding and general craziness. Thankfully I passed but I remember at one point thinking that I was going to puke with nerves. The guy at the door to the exam room asked me if I was nervous and when I said yes, he replied "That's good. It's a sign of a highly intelligent person." I smiled and thought how sweet it was but as I walked into the exam room, I heard him drop the same line on the next person... Men! It seems they can slip you lines in all situations...

The bambino has become obsessed with her grandpa after treating him with suspicion for the first few days. Now she breaks into a huge smile and wriggles and squeals with joy as soon as she sets eyes on him. The feeling is mutual and after getting up late on one of the days, I went downstairs to be greeted by her grandpa with his arms folded. "Where is she?" he demanded looking rather petulant at being deprived of her company. Of course there are side effects to this love-in. The bambino has discovered that she loves the TV because her grandpa watches more sport than the boyf does. I mean seriously - How the frick can one person watch a sports channel all bloody day!? Now the bambino likes cricket and is constantly craning her head to check out the screen.

The boyf is delighted that he has a sports loving daughter but is rather put out because she ignored him for most of last week. "I'm sorry darling. Daddy had to go back to work..." but she just turned her head in the other direction and smiled at her grandpa. Later the boyf asked "Do you think that she thinks that he's me?". He looked so sulky that I fell around laughing. Now he knows how I felt when we let her be babysat (by his mum) for the first time and she refused to look at me when we got back, instead squealing with joy when she saw her dad. He pissed himself laughing then so I've had a lot of mileage out of this one!

She moved into her own room last Thursday and I felt very emotional when I realised that she wasn't in her carrycot at the side of the bed, squealing, farting, shuffling, and sucking her tongue. I'd been asking the boyf to put up her blackout blind for a month and I'd ended up screaming at him the night before. Being the tired, hormonal bitch that I was last week, you can imagine how pissy I felt when I woke up the bambino by accident at 10.30pm just as I was planning to have an early-ish night. The boyf made an outlandish claim that he's never woken up the bambino and I let him have it with both barrels, and stooped low by shouting at him about the blind. Of course ten minutes later and I felt like a total cow and apologised to him, and lo and behold the blind was up and the bambino in her room the following night.

I had been out for dinner with my antenatal group (it was the first time since 'the incident') and when I got back the light was on in our bedroom. When I pointed this out, he said he'd go and turn it off, but he knew full well that I would go to the bedroom as I would want to see the bambino. It took a moment to register that she wasn't in her cot and for a moment I was filled with panic until I looked next door. I dashed downstairs and confronted him with my hands on my hips. "You're a sneaky bas...." and then I spotted his dad and held back. "You think you're reeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllll funny don't you! Trying to play with my mind!" and we both burst out laughing. "I don't know what you mean.." he smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I saw the bambino in her room and the blind is up." "It is?" he said with a cheeky grin.

I do miss her in the room but it is lovely to have our room back. The boyf being extra makes a point of talking loudly when he comes in, just to prove that it's 'his' room. Obviously the downside for him is that he can no longer blame his daughter for his farts....

Alright Now, Religious Mix Up, Facebook Scene Investigation

I'm feeling better after my little vent and thanks for the lovely comments. I emailed the group and told them that I won't be joining them for the weekly get togethers anymore. I didn't do chapter and verse on the ins and outs of why and just said that for various reasons, I just don't feel that I fit in. It's not that I don't get on with them, but the whole group thing just doesn't do it for me and I think that the 'handbag' comment just ended up being the straw that broke the donkey's back. Since then I spoke to the girl I probably get on best with and it helped to clear up some stuff and to also better understand where my feelings stemmed from.

Apparently I got the wrong end of the stick when I overheard them arranging to meet up and then one of them went quiet. They never did meet up but that wasn't actually the point. I just didn't see the need for them to go quiet. I think that what has happened is that a few small things happened and then along came last Friday and when everything was all added together, I felt something snap. The feeling like I don't fit in seems to stem a lot from me not having a need for support or to moan about my bad experiences, because I'm not having a difficult time of it. I never take it for granted that the bambino sleeps and feeds well (touch wood) but as a group they have bonded through tales of sleepless nights, difficulties with breastfeeding, colic, frustration etc and I haven't been able to relate. To add to it, I felt uneasy about talking about enjoying things with the bambino as I didn't want to be perceived as 'too happy' or rubbing anything in their faces. Instead of feeling like I could enjoy sharing the joys of motherhood, as well as the downs, I felt like I had to be struggling in order to fit in. At the end of the day, I need more than the fact that we've all been knocked up as a reason to get to know them, and because I had no misery to share, it was like going along to AA and not being an alcoholic...

At the end of it all I have to chalk it up to a learning experience. I think I've probably made a couple of good friends who I will get to know on an one to one basis over time and without having to talk the baby thing to death, and I guess that's a bonus. As for the 'handbag' comment, I don't think I'll ever understand the insensitivity of the comment but I don't think I'm supposed to. At that moment I felt like there was a class divide and it was based on being black and as the only black person at the table, that was just damn weird. It's funny because one person didn't hear the comment and one of them that did hear it, didn't think anything of it. Does that mean that this person isn't listened to, or that people just don't think anything of racially insensitive comments?

Anyway enough about that...

It's one week till we head off to America and I feel a mixture of excited and nervous. We're taking a lunchtime flight and hopefully the bambino will be OK with it. She is a very chilled and contented baby but admittedly she's never had to cope with being on a massive, noisy, airbus! We're off to DC and a few different places in Maryland for a family wedding of 500 people. Apparently many of these people are excited about meeting the bambino for the first time and I wonder if we will get near our child during our stay. But forget the wedding. I can't wait to shop! I little feel a little feverish at the thought of the fab exchange rate and me hitting the stores. The boyf is petrified. Ah...poor boyf...he won't be able to go to the TV department in any of the stores and watch football matches like he would if he was shopping here with me...

We've also booked the bambino's christening - clearly the boyf and I don't get a rest - and it was very funny when the boyf panicked on Monday night because he thought that he'd booked it in a Catholic Church by accident. I got a lot of mileage out of it and took the piss out of him, but it turns out that it's not Catholic so I had to eat my words.

I must admit to a bit of FSI - Facebook Scene Investigation. You can peek into other people's lives and find out all sorts of stuff... OK, you can check out ex girlfriends! This is a fantastic pastime! Admittedly it hadn't even occurred to me to do it until the boyf's bro complained about ex girlfriend's putting too much info on there. Basically his current girlfriend came home one day and went onto their PC where he was still logged into Facebook. There were two outstanding friend requests from ex-girlfriends so she accepted them on his behalf . He was not impressed when they put stuff like 'We dated for a while' in the bit for how you know each other because he thinks that there is no need for people to know that they dated! I was pissing myself laughing because clearly he just doesn't want his girlfriend having a trail of his past. Of course, first chance I got I had a look through the boyf's friends and enjoyed having a peek at some of his ex's. One of them has a limited profile, which for those not in the know means that you can only see basic information and I couldn't go on her page. Without thinking I asked the boyf a "How come X has a limited profile?!" and he was cracking up laughing. "Sweetie, have you been checking out my ex-girlfriends? Aaah..that's so cute!" I have a feeling he'll be dining off this one for a while...

Is My Bra An ATM?

At 11.30 on Friday night, I walked out of restaurant with five other women that I met through my National Childbirth Trust (NCT)antenatal class. It was our first proper night out since having our babies and it was supposed to be a night on the razz but we appeared to be finishing early, and whilst people had drunk, they hadn't drunk very much. "So where do we get taxi's?" I asked and they all looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh X and Y are driving...." and I suddenly acknowledged that the cliquey vibe that I had been trying to ignore could be ignored no longer. One of them very hurriedly offered to come back into the restaurant with me to call a taxi and made a half hearted offer of waiting with me, but I quickly told them that it was OK for them to go and said my goodbyes.

In the taxi on the way home a few tears plopped down my cheeks as I smarted from what had happened. They were probably vino tears propelled by the few glasses of wine I'd had... I got home and spoke briefly with the boyf and the lads who were having a poker night and quickly took myself off to bed. I lay there for a while playing back the evening and some of our previous get togethers (we meet up each Wednesday - all around England, women who met through National Childbirth Trust (NCT) antenatal classes tend to meet up each week) in my mind till the boyf came to bed. He put his arms around me and said "Do you want to wait till tomorrow or do you want to tell me now?"

I told him about feeling like a complete dick outside the restaurant and realising how they'd organised amongst themselves without a care in the world for me. How one of the women (from South Africa) described being held up by black people at her business and them searching her bra for money. "Stupid people think thought that I had money in there. They forget that it's black women that carry their money in their bras. White women carry theirs in handbags." Do you know that not ONE person flinched from that comment? I described how I'd been at one of the get together's and come back downstairs from using the bathroom and caught the tail end of two of them arranging to meet up a couple of days later. "Will we do our usual meet up?"asked one of them. "Yeah, let's. Where do you want to meet?" "Shall we meet at..." and as I approached she gave her a warning look and tried to style it out and pretend that she was talking about something else. I didn't say anything and I couldn't have given a monkeys that they were meeting up. It was the weird secretive conversation and pretending to be talking about something else that let me know that she was afraid I'd want to be included. What are we? 7! Or how about when I first met up with them after having the bambino and some of them were being strange with me because she slept through most of the afternoon. One asked how she was sleeping at night and I was foolishly honest and said that she was sleeping really well. She looked at me with a tight face and snidely said "Ha! Let's see how long THAT lasts for!"

The boyf understood where I was coming from - He has previously expressed concern about the cliqueness - and he was upset for me as I shed tears at what feels like a weird rejection from people I don't know particularly well, and it's made all the more odd that we all met at the same time. I do live in a different area that's not far from them, which may have contributed to me being on put on the edge, but that doesn't make me feel any better. At the end of the day, it's not about wanting to be Miss Popular, it's more about not wanting to put myself in an uneccessary situation.

I happen to know I'm not on my own. The stories I have heard about NCT bitchiness are rife and I realise that motherhood and what you do with your baby, whether you breastfeed and are good at it, whether your baby is content, sleeps through the night, your clothes, your boyfriend/husband and any other thing that they feel like putting up to scrutiny means that I have now entered into an adult highschool. It's not a competition for me. The thought of people comparing baby weights, how well they feed, when they roll over, sit up, walk, talk etc just makes me cringe yet I know that it will happen regardless. I thought that hanging out with people who were going through the same life stage and experience was great but it's just another way for women to be bitchy. I'm 30 years old (jaysus I really am 30) and I'm too old for this bullshit. I know I'll never be able to escape the bitchiness that can sometimes be dished out by women but I'm not about to put myself in the frontline of it every week, just so I can say that I hang out with some new mothers and their babies and pretend that I fit in.

I'm not an over-sensitive person and I'm not going to keep soul searching and asking "What did I say? What did I do?!' because at the end of the day, breathing, existing, and being happy is hardly a crime. Women find all sorts of reasons to be cliquey and it doesn't have to be about me per se. At the end of the day, we're all adults and I'm glad that these people have found friendships and closeness. Being on the edge of a clique just isn't a nice feeling and I have so much going on in my life and much to enjoy and be happy about that it seems pointless to be uncomfortable with people that were unknown to me 4 months ago just for the sake of the fact that we've all had babies and become mothers.

As for the casual racism, I'm not going to second guess what was meant by that generalisation and whether it was or wasn't racist. All I know is that considering that I am the one black person at that dinner table, you need to be some kind of crackerjack to think that I will be comfortable with that comment...I actually said to the boyf "Do you think she's one of those people that doesn't 'see' me as one of 'those black people' or should I just consider myself lucky that when I've been at her house she hasn't asked me to come by the back door!?!" We were cracking up laughing in the bed and I knew that I would be fine and that the upset would fade. Just as I was nodding off I said "Maybe next time I see her I should pull some twenties out of my bra...." and the rest! Doesn't she realise that this black woman practically takes everything but the kitchen sink in HER handbag?!

Do I Have to Be Around When You Air Your Dirty Laundry?

On Saturday we went to a BBQ with our usual cohorts. It's normally pretty relaxed, with our bambino's in tow and plenty of giggling and pisstaking. Whilst we had fun, I have to admit that this time it was different as there were some guests that were very full on. Much as I may take the piss out of our men, the boyf would be mortified if I spoke to him like a dog in public (or in private for that matter) and aired any problems in public. I just wouldn't dream of behaving like this anyway because not only is it disrespectful but if he did it to me, his nuts wouldn't know what hit them...

For the whole evening, we were treated to this woman antagonising the husband about the fact that he hadn't married her yet. Nevermind the fact that she was already pregnant with their second child. At first I thought it was kind of funny because she was so blunt and he just seemed to tune out of her frequency, but as the evening progressed she just seemed to get more aggressive about it and occurred to me that this woman wasn't messing around. They had their kid with them who was a bundle of energy and didn't stop moving and touching stuff. We might as well have referred to him as 'DOOOON'T touch that or you're getting the wooden spoon!'... She tried to get the dad to take him off her hands and sent him outside to him. We were chatting away when the little boy mysteriously materialised in the sitting room (we were on the 1st floor of an apartment block). She looked absolutely livid because clearly she wanted a break and no word of a lie, she opened up the sitting room window and roared down to her boyfriend like a fisherwoman "DON'T THINK THAT YOU'RE FUNNY YOU KNOW!!!! JUST DON'T! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! DON'T MESS WITH ME! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE YOUR SON DOWN THERE AND YOU THINK YOU'RE FUNNY SENDING HIM BACK UP HERE! YOU'LL SEE! COME AND GET YOUR SON!"

I watched this unfold open mouthed and then I did what I always do in awkward situations where I feel nervous and had a terrible fit of the giggles. Then I caught my friend T's eye and she looked like she was going to bust a gut from holding in her laughter and we both started to laugh even harder. I tell you - Some women really know how to get GANGSTA with their partners!

We had a laugh but the evening was not our usual relaxed vibe and at one point when she snapped at her husband for saying that if he could turn back time ten years he'd stay in his home country with "Don't think that you could knock up a woman back home and not marry her there!", I wanted the ground to open up and swallow us all. Instead, recognising that the carpet wasn't about to give way to all of us, I ran into the kitchen and hid in there with T. We were laughing but cringing at the same time. The boyf of course was completely oblivious because he was watching the football, cricket, and golf. I had to explain to him what had happened even though he had been sitting in the same room! Honestly, you can't take him anywhere! But the fact that he watched so much TV whilst we were out suggested that on some level he knew that there was tension and 'tuned' out...

In other news, the bambino has taken to shrieking with joy by way of greeting us, and sometimes when she's about to go to sleep or just woken up. The boyf and I are pleased that she is so vocal and happy but find it quite strange when she does it 4am... When she does it just after waking up and it's dark, I do have to wonder what on earth can be entertaining her so much. But this is a child who has been focused on eating her hands for the past two weeks and who also sucks her tongue, much to the amusement of onlookers. She's clearly going to be a chatterbox..just like her dad (I say), just like her mum (he says) as she makes lots of sounds and if you mimic them, she gets very excited and does even more sounds. So far she has reduced both of her grandmothers to watery eyes with her chatting antics... As long as she doesn't grow up shrieking out of windows at her boyfriend like a fisherwoman on crack...she can shriek to her hearts content!

Farts, Nana Antics and the Jerk Chicken Cure

Early Saturday morning, I had just gotten back into bed after settling the bambino and snuggled in against the boyf. It wasn't long before I started to drift off and then I was shocked out of my sleep when I felt the boyf let a ripper of a fart on my thigh. I recoiled from the shock of it and the boyf instinctively woke up and grabbed me in a hug laughing and full of apologies. His fart was part of a dream and he'd thought it was OK... "I think I have lost the feeling in my leg..." I said through giggles. "Stop being so dramatic!" We lay there giggling and had just settled down when the bambino let a ripper of her own... Like father...like daughter...

My ma came round on both days at the weekend which was a bit of a shocker as she has been very absorbed with her boyfriend Daddy G over the past while. She has this thing where she literally walks through the door, snatches the bambino and no-one can get near her. Of course the women's final of Wimbledon was on and I had forgotten that not only is my mum a sports maniac but that her particular favourite tennis means that she thinks that she's on the court with them. I have to give it to the bambino for being able to sleep through my mum screaming at the tv "Venus NOOOOOOOO! NOT like THAT! Come on! Hit the f*cking balllllllllllll! Oh shit! I mean...oh...there there" she says stroking the bambino. "Nana didn't mean to swear. Nana loves you...Oh for FUUU...I mean VENUS! Get it together girl! You're throwing it away!!!!!....Oooh sorry NML. You know I get a bit loud...YES! Come on Venus. You can do it! I knew you could do it!" she said punching the air as the bambino shoved her hand down my ma's cleavage in her sleep.

My week has passed by in a blur of pikey TV (the 'occasional' chatshow, Cheaters, and property programmes), sorting out boxes of stuff in the house (we could be unpacking for years at this rate), hosting a coffee afternoon for my NCT (antenatal) group and their babies (gosh I felt very lady like), a spot of shopping (very tiring - I clearly don't have the stamina I used to for buying shoes. Note to self - must try harder), and meeting up with a blog friend (they spotted 7 black people in my neighbourhood - could this be a new board game?!) who was visiting from the US. The bambino didn't hold back on her farting then either...

We also had our gang over on Saturday for our first barbecue and the boyf and the guys did some gardening whilst us girls stayed inside gossiping and bitching about being hungry. We were supposed to be playing poker but the boyf, his bro, and one of the girls couldn't agree on playing it or any other game because they all take their games seriously. When we did eventually decide to play poker, the boyf was online getting the rules and a list of different hands. Honestly, he is something else! I folded three times but after watching the game, I plan to whup some ass next time round as I think I understand it now.

My ma and the bro called round on Sunday and the boyf and the bro continued gardening whilst the bambino sat in her rocker with her sun hat thumping the crap out of her bears. I walked outside and found my ma shaking really badly and in pain. She'd said she wasn't feeling too great but also admitted that she hadn't eaten, but after watching her deteriorate further, we decided that the bro should take her to hospital. The boyf looked on bewildered and concerned and just as they were heading off he said "I was just putting on some chicken which will be done very soon. You sure you don't want to wait for that?" and we all snorted back giggles. Only the boyf would be offering jerk chicken as a cure for what turned out to be a kidney infection!

Jaysus the big three-oh is approaching

Yesterday was the first of July and when I acknowledged the date, a tremor of fear went through me. "Oh feck! I'm 30 in 27 days!" I wailed to the boyf. He chuckled and said "Yep! You're getting old now honey!" I pinched him and reminded him that at 34, he's no-one to talk.

I remember being about 7 or 8 years old and saying "I'm going to be 30 in the year 2007" and thinking that it seemed so far away in a futuristic time when we'd probably have robots cleaning our houses and driving around in space cars just like in The Jetsons. Yet here I am with the big three-oh upon me and I'm still cleaning my own home and haven't got my driving license yet. On the subject of driving, I had planned to be doing my test this month but there is the small matter of a c-section which has blighted my plans.... Sometimes I wonder if driving and I are meant to happen...Anyway I digress...

I used to wisecrack that I'd love to be settled and have a baby by the time I was thirty a few years back but then I looked at the wasteland that was my dubious dating past and figured that with that many dodgy boyfriends and man experiences, it was safe to say that these things wouldn't be happening for a long time. Of course, life changed when I met the boyf and we all know how that story went as I became a mum (the bambino is pictured yawning on her playmat) and a homeowner at the end of May and I'm very much settled in our little country town at the edge of London.

Actually I digress again...There can't be too many black folk around this area. OK, I know there aren't as I've only seen one and it was on the day we moved here. But the main reason I know is because I had a look in the local baby shop and was just about to buy something when I saw two golliwog frigging dolls grinning at me from the shelves! After my last golliwog experience, I beat a hasty retreat and they won't be seeing a penny of my money!

So anyway, back to being thirty. I can only claim to be twenty-something for another 26 days which means I'll definitely have to do that redesign of my blog that I promised. They say thirties is the new twenties, so I wont be expecting to feel hugely different, although I wonder if I'll feel compelled to be more 'adult' like. Will I control my boobs better or swear less? I have actually been swearing a lot less for the bambino anyway... Will I suddenly develop a penchant for baking cakes and sewing? Will I stop secretly watching Hollyoaks religiously and start watching Emmerdale? (For those that don't know, the former is a soap aimed at teenagers that lots of 20 somethings watch and the latter is a soap based around a farming town that 'older folk' watch) Will I become like my mum? Jaysus perish the thought! I'd have to do a lot of crack for that to happen...

Well whatever my thirties holds in store for me, I know that I want to remain true to myself and do more of what I say that I want to do. Despite some adversity, I enjoyed my twenties a hell of a lot and ended up getting true growth from my experiences. I have a lot of great things in my life and I do feel very blessed to be so happy with my little family, so I guess I'll have to just embrace the onslaught of my thirties and enjoy whatever life holds in store for me. Of course, I could go wild for the next 26 days and act like I'm a wild twenty-something but there is the small matter of the bambino and the fact that leaking boobs aren't very trendy on a wild night out....