About Me, Birthdays, Health and wellbeing

My first, my last…my everything┬á

  
On the eve of my littlest bean’s birthday…number 4…the birthday that means the start of school…the birthday that means leaving me home alone come September…and I want to feel so so happy about how he is growing into one of the nicest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, growing into someone that makes me laugh uncontrollably every day without fail BUT I’m struggling, struggling with the fact that he is my last, my last baby.
No more smells of baby hair, no more waiting for that first smile, no more swollen ankles, no more sick stains on my left shoulder, no more tears in the middle of the night at being useless at breastfeeding…

 But tomorrow he will wake so excited about his day, to see all his friends, to tell them how now he’s a big boy he gets to go to school…and I will smile…

Smile everyday, that I’m lucky, lucky to have two beautiful kids and cuddle him that little bit tighter, knowing that he is my last…

(Simon would this be a good opportunity to ask you for a sausage dog…please?) ­čśë

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Writing and blogging

Star Wars – Attack of the Rich & Ruthless

   
So I’ve been MIA for a while…apologies, the craft took over…but I’m back. A blogging New Year’s Resolution for the 2nd time. 

And what better way to start it than with a rant…

…we all know how I love a rant…but it’s making me feel better so…

Let me set the scene…

Vintage Kenner Star Wars toys including Millenium Falcon, X Wing, quite a large amount of characters and speeders all for sale for reasonable prices in my local charity shop.

Littlest kid mega excited to receive this bundle (later to be my parenting fail of the year) 

Happy days! 

I post a note through door yesterday to say I would like them – the only chance I’ve got of my Burg playing with the vintage lot (as we all know how expensive they are on eBay and husband made the mistake of a quick buck as a 15yr old and sold all of his ­čśŽ )

Another couple – we’ll call them Mr & Mrs Minted (she’s an ex Fleet Street journalist) arrive after me…I’m looking like Mrs McChav in my gym gear. Deep joy!

They both look like they have the same Star Wars agenda…

Few comments are exchanged, “I’m gonna have a battle on my hands here aren’t I?” “Yes you are, we want them all.” “My mother enquired yesterday too”

So as the shop opens the husband blocks my way with his foot and pulls me by my coat out of the way…( I understand all’s fair in love and sharpen your elbows but really?!?!) 

I grab all toys like a five year old and tell the lady (we’ll call her Mrs Meanie) I’m the one who left the note…she already favours Mr and Mrs Minted…the other lovely shop keeper tells me to “take a seat love, we’ll sort this”. I’m looking like a teary 5 yr old now.
They repeat they want me to put the toys down, whilst kissing Mrs Meanie’s arse…the wife has already taken her to one side to smooth her over. 

We are told the manager’s on her way…as the couple then creep even further into Mrs Meanie’s lower intestinal tract as they announce they are local publishers and one of the books on the shelf is one of there’s – she sucks up their small rise to fame and you can see she really loves them now. 

Mrs Meanie then demands I replace the toys and stop blubbering or she will put me outside in the rain (wtf!)
I obviously start to blub like I always do..to which they take great pleasure in letting out a little snigger. 

I tell them they are probably only purchasing to sell online whereas mine are intended for a lifetime of love. No comment.

Mrs Meanie then bleats out an exasperated “When the manager arrives I’m going to take her to one side and explain this situation.” – Yes I bet you are love!

Toys all sold to Mr and Mrs Minted as expected…smug as fuck and happy in their endeavour…
  
Why does fortune always favour the rich and ruthless?

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