I didn't grasp them when I was at school. I kind of understood when Daughter No. 1 did them but after trying to help No.2 with her homework today (and don't forget she's only year 6) I finally think I've got fraction/decimal conversions...still don't know what I will ever use them for though...?
Discussion on train home with girlfriends yesterday as to whether or not himself would hit the roof re purchase of boots. I may think that my life would be totally ruined and inadequate without them but he on the other hand would possible argue this point.
They cost just under £120 (which I thought was a bargin), advice was to tell himself £100. This means that he will then assume £99.99 which of course sounds better.
Leave them in the car until mood established. Mood this particular day would be determined by Europe's ability (or not) to beat the Americans in the golf.
As boots are of the pointed toe and stiletto heel type it was suggested stripping off before entering house and appearing in just the boots, letting him think I bought them for his benefit ...
So are men really this gulliable or easily manipulated? Well himself may well have been happy because of Europe's win but as he had also done my ironing I prefer to think he just loves me enough to ignore lapses of control with the credit card! Mind you he did like the stiletto heels....
Day in London with friends was great - just what we needed - bought some lovely brown 'snake skin' boots and husband didn't spoil it all by flipping when I got home...and he'd done the ironing...bless! I went for the trainers and glad I did - was comfortable and in the majority. The boots are not of the walking-round-all-day-shopping variety so I did do something frivolous after all.
I know I am getting old when I begin to even contemplate the above question. It must be one of the earliest signs of approaching mid-life and boy is it a difficult one when part of you is happy to bum around in baggy comfortable clothes but the other half would just die if anyone actually saw you in them! My dilemma tonight revolves round aforementioned jaunt with friends to London tomorrow. Do I go for style and elegance to enable me to blend in and not look like I have just stumbled in from the country (which of course I have..) or knowing that it will be a long day on my pins should I go for comfort?
In other words, heels or flatties?
Having trawled the shops once this weekend in wedge-heeled mules that made my feet ache after about an hour I do not relish the idea of a full day in them. But there is no getting away from it - heels make your legs look longer and slimmer. Himself would now argue that nothing can make anything look different to what it actually is and he takes great pleasure in saying this to me when I am trying on clothes in his vacinity. I disagree. I know that I look slimmer in black. Every woman knows she does. Why else would 90% of female wardrobes consist of black - I mean you wouldn't actually choose to wear black if it did nothing for you - it's boring. It's thanks to the BBC programme "What Not To Wear" that women all over the country now "do a Trinny" and tell their friends the real truth when asked "does this suit me". And thanks to this same programme I now realise that I should not wear high-necked tops ("too busty") and neither should my friend wear low-neck tops ("no tits"). I also know that certain styles of trousers can make my bum look big (or bigger...).
I 'm digressing. It was not that long ago that I wouldn't have given comfort a second thought. I would have grimaced my way around the shops all day in killer stiletoes. Thing is I want to have a good time tomorrow with my girlfriends. I want to enjoy the day not spend it wishing I was at home soaking my sore toes.
A decision....Trainers it will have to be. Anyway, trainers are trendy.
...but are you allowed to wear trainers when you've got an already ample bust? Where are Trinny and Suzannah when you really need them?
Bedroom door (that which is keeping hamster alive) was left open. Just found cat sitting on top of cage - waiting...Speedy was safely tucked up in his ball of fluff oblivious of threat to life...but much, much worse than this...it was me who forgot to shut the door!
Ended up taking both offspring to shop. Himself began to sweat. I began to sweat. Sibling love is non too apparent in our house at present and I was forseeing the enevitable "it's not fair, I wanted a new top/pair of jeans/sparkly belt" but we have returned. There was no fighting, no squabbling, no moaning. Well a little moaning when I said I wasn't buying Daughter No. 2 another t-shirt with Eeyore on it. I will explain Eeyore at another time. Himself began to sweat again when we appeared laden with carrier bags. Daughter No. 1 did indeed manage to find trousers for party....and managed to get a top out of me also. Well I was so thrown at finding trousers both she and I liked, she must have caught me unawares! Daughter No. 2 also found an outfit that fitted. We had cookies half-way round and even bought a couple of birthday presents. I am calm but himself is still sweating as he knows the big damage to the credit card is still to come. I am off with a couple of girlfriends for a day in London tomorrow and grown-up shopping has absolutely nothing to do with luck...
Anyone who knows me knows I love shopping. Today however will not be an altogether pleasurable experience. I am taking daughter no. 1. We are on a mission for a pair of trousers for a party. I know we are doomed. I have learnt from years of experience in large quarry-built shopping centres the country over that if you are shopping with intent you won't find a thing! Daughter no. 1 is already working on me for a top as well. She'll be lucky.
Hamster has arrived and safely enscounced in daughter no. 2's room. It's called Speedy. Cats are prowling and sniffing under the door - if they get in there it will bloody well have to live up to its name I can tell you...
Daughter No. 1 is mad for Gareth (he of pop idol). She is going to see him at London Arena soon. Very soon. In approximately 10 days, 3 hours, 45 minutes, 6 seconds and 2 tenths of a second....and counting. I can't wait. Husband can't wait. Her sister can't wait. We've all had enough of the boy-wonder. Of course he will see her. Of course he will pick her out of the 20th row ("the 20th row, Mum!"). Her fabric-painted t-shirt will be so different from all the others that he will be drawn to it. Dream on daughter no. 1, dream and enjoy. Love Mum
Daughter No. 2's friend has just called to ask if we will hamster sit whilst they go on holiday.
Major Panic - I am not good with hamsters.
Used to be - had my own as a child but since so-called responsiblity of adulthood they have been known to die (prematurely) whilst in my "care".
We have two cats. Two cats who have wiped out all known species of wildlife to venture within a mile radius of our garden.
Maybe I should take out extra insurance in case they sue me on return from nice relaxing holiday?
Daughter has promised to keep hamster in cage and cage in bedroom and door shut - at all times.
It will be fine. I won't go near it and it will be fine.
I feel the need to introduce the people you will come across on By a Woman and I guess I should start with me:
Thirty-seven at present. Mother of two girls - daughter no.1 and daughter no. 2 (names kept secret for obvious reasons - we are on the net after all..). Wife of 17 years (can that really be true??). Work part-time. Have fabulous circle of friends who along with daughters' antics will probably provide most of the foder for this blog. I have the urge to write but all my ideas for trashy holiday novels have all been taken and published selling millions. So thought I would try this. We'll see how it goes and maybe one day I will pay for an all-singing-all-dancing site.
Husband - works long hours, is not technically minded and will probably never find this site so I can write what I like about him...plays golf fairly well (I am told) and supports Leeds United.
Daughter No. 1 is a teenager. Enough said.
Daughter No. 2 wants to be a teenager but hasn't quite got there yet although she has the tantrums and "I hate you all" routine almost perfected.
Two cats, two mothers, one father, one grandmother, 3 sisters, numerous nieces and nephews, friends of all ages, a plumber (occasionally), an electrician (even more occasionally), a plasterer I have yet to find, oh and a house that is in need of repair, renovation and....well rebuilding!
That's us. I'm off now to shift funds from one building site to another to pull wool over husband's eyes for a few more days [lovingly strokes fabulous new brown suede bag].