If you’ve ever had to squeeze into a pair of jeans, you will understand. ↔ I’ve tried to put my jeans on,  they’re just a little tight But if you give me 10 more minutes, I’ll get them on alright I’ll just lay down upon the bed, I know it seems quite strange But it helps to pull the zip up, when my stomach’s rearranged I need to use my willpower, and lose a couple of pounds And just ignore the biscuits when they’re being passed around But can I refuse temptation, when I see the coffee shop cake And…

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The chores of Christmas, an ode to washing the dishes, loads of them. Standing at the kitchen sink Time to daydream time to think This boring chore can be so nice With a splash of Persil, warm spice The festive smell and frothy mass Makes your dishwashing quickly pass Sparkling glasses twinkle bright Whilst cleaning pans with all its might Tough dried on food soon becomes weak Bugs begone as plates now squeak I love the spicy christmassy smell It saves me from a dishwashing hell.   ↔   Disclosure: we received Persil Warm Spice for review purposes. All words…

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Why is it me revising I’m not sitting the exam But every time the books come out There I am I try to give an encouraging smile Even though it’s fake A 13yo needs glue on the chair Or he’s off,  #FFS My son looks at the revision books As if they’re from outer space He’s a replica of ‘Oliver’ With that sad look on his face Of course the task is always new “we never learnt this in class” If you believe this year 9 boy Teachers just sit on their Ass So I smile, and take a look…

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I’m going to #blogonmosi, and I’m meeting @messedupmum we’re getting rather giddy, and can’t wait for it to come I’ve never been to an event before, I hope it will be fun It’ll be like a mad day out, with mums on the run I’ve had this blog about a year, and still got loads to learn but I’ve found a fab community, with help at every turn I’m not even self hosted, I haven’t worked with brands but I’m hoping that this year, they’ll both be in my plans I don’t really know what to expect, or what we’re going to…

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A poem dedicated to parents of children who chatter all the time. May you get 5 minutes peace. x Dear child, don’t you know just how much I love you so but all the questions on and on I feel as if my brain has gone No the sun won’t melt you yes Superman can fly but NO! little children can’t so please don’t even try Yes, I’m making lunch now no you won’t grow as big as a tree and I don’t think it’s a good idea to invite a pig to tea I know you are inquisitive and it’s…

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