And these kids are supposed to be educated?


This leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. In fact, I'm absolutely disgusted by it.

These kids are supposed to be educated. The kind of kids who get to look down on the likes of me because as soon as I had the opportunity to leave school, get a job and help my mum support us, I did. Imagine my cheek.

Some of these kids are eventually going to leave university with the qualifications to put them in positions that matter, positions where they'll be relied upon to use their tiny, backwards little minds to make decisions.

And apparently some of them think it's perfectly acceptable to become rapists and beat women, but obviously only if "she was asking for it".

Personally, I think they should be kicked out of the school. If they already think like the dregs of society then they should never be in a position to become anything more than that.

What galls me is that some idiot thinks that the best way to tackle this problem is a poster leaflet and drinks mat campaign.

Yeah, cause the absolute best time to tell a guy not to go home and beat his girlfriend or that the girl he's gripping by the arm and trying to pull out of the bar, actually means "NO", is when he's shit faced on cheap booze in the Student's Union. Good luck with that one, sure let me know how it goes.

Dinosaurs and My Kid Rocks

A typical morning. I'm semi-organised, I've the lunches made the clothes laid out but we're still running around like headless chickens trying to get out the door.

As we're just about to walk out, me laden down with bags and about to set the alarm, Toots asks if she can take her own breakfast to nursery. I can see the look in her eye which clearly states "I will pitch a hissy if I don't get my way" and figuring it's only a bag of cereal I ask her to go and pick something so we can get going. I drop all the bags, run into the kitchen, grab and baggy and drop her selection into said bag, before lifting all the bags again, child under arm and out the door.

In the car on the way to nursery I can see her fiddling with the bag in the back of the car and at that stage I realise it's a bag of mini shredded wheat, Honey NUT mini shredded wheat.

Crap.

There's a boy in her age group in nursery with a nut allergy.

Crap.

I'm going to get lynched for this as soon as they see what's in the bag.

Once we got inside I thought I'd quietly check to see if he was in nursery today. Maybe he's off and there won't be a problem, just this once. Nope, he's here.

Crap.

I can see Toots, smiling away, telling her friends she's brought her own breakfast this morning and I'm going to have to take it away from her. So I sit her down on my knee and explain that her cereal has nuts and that it could make her friend very ill.

"Very ill" she asks

"Hospital ill" I say.

"OK, well I don't like nuts if they're going to make friend sick, you take them and tell Daddy he has to have them for breakfast".

Such an understanding child for all the age of her, don't you think. No hissy fit, no crying, not even a lip tremble. I was so proud of her.

So Himself's off to work today with mini Honey Nut Shredded Wheat for his breakfast. In a Baco Rainbow dinosaur bag.

Cause dinosaurs ROCK too.

Sparkes and Midnight Zoo Heist


Toot’s isn’t a girly girl. She loves to climb, play in the dirt and she’ll happily pick up any bug/spider/slug/worm that happens to be unlucky enough to cross her path.

It’ll be Halloween on 31 October and I normally like to make toot’s costume for her Halloween party in day care and the small party we have at home for the little uns.

We were in the garden, pulling weeds and getting rid of all the spent vegetable plants, properly mucked up t the eyeballs and I decided to bring up the subject of dressing up to get some ideas (last year she was an octopus).

Me: So Kiddo, Halloween next month?

Toots: Yep.

Me: Any idea what you fancy dressing up as?

Toots: Yep (???)

Me: Well……..?

Toots: I want to be a princess (I beg your pardon), a green princess (a bit more like her), with a crown (holds hand about eight inches above her head) not a hat, with a wand and wings. Big wings not those tiny ones. And …… can it be sparkly.
Me: (Getting back up off the ground after being knocked over with a feather). You want to be a princess.

Toots: A green princess with a crown and a wand and…..

Me: Aha, a princess. (Quick someone call the police somebody’s stolen my daughter and replaced her with a girl).

Toots: Or a Power Ranger, a Jungle Fury Power Ranger and a LION. Can I have a lion, mommy?

Me: We’ll see darling.

Thank frick for that, because I hadn’t a notion how to make a green sparkly princess costume with a crown, not a hat and a wand and wings

I think her costume may have to be a surprise from now on.

Coca Cola - because I burn food


It's an average day.

You're in the kitchen cooking, kids on around your feet, your husband can't find a jacket, cause the wardrobe would be far too sensible a place to look and you're not paying attention.

Suddenly you smell burning and realise in the middle of everything your pan of porridge/rice/stew has burnt solid to the bottom of the pot. You scrape and scrape but it's burnt and black and smells revolting.

Now you could fill the sink, whip out the cleaner and scourer and start scrubbing, but you'll probably wind up giving up half an hour later with sore, wrinkled hands and a pan that looks as bad coming out of the water as it did going in. It's beyond rescue.

You could also just chuck the pan out and buy a new one or make do without, cause you have more.

A far easier and cheaper way to clean it, is to pour in enough Coke to cover the burnt parts and simmer over a low heat for about 15 minutes and just watch all the black yuck float off the bottom of the pan. You may have to rinse and repeat once or twice but it's still a hell of a lot easier than trying to clean it the other way.

This is what works for me and for more WFMW ideas visit Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

Sweet Chilli and Pepper Salsa


This recipe has been taken from The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver. It's one of my favourites and it just reminds me of Summer, even on those cold drizzly wet days.

2 roasted red peppers (from a jar)

1/2 red onion
4 large red chillis
1/2 clove garlic
8 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
a bunch of parsley
a bunch of basil
salt and pepper.

The recipe calls for all these ingredients to be finely chopped, mixed together, seasoned and left for hour before serving. Usually I throw all the ingredients except the peppers in a blender and pulse until finely chopped and then add the peppers and give it oe more quick pulse. I've eaten it straight away and it's lovely although it is far better if it gets an hour to rest before serving.

Serve with chips, thinly sliced bread, celery (if you're that way inclined) or anything you fancy.

And for more great game day recipes visit Jenn over at Frugal Upstate.

Redundancy Situation

Something appears to be wrong.

My purse doesn't appear to be functioning correctly.

Is it not my purse's sole function in life to contain money?

There is no money in my purse.

My purse has failed at it's one job in life.

Stupid purse.

Duck and Cover - Toddler Explosion


video

Not a happy bunny at the thought of leaving the park, even with the prospect of ice cream.

Still she laughed when she saw the video.

Not my 100th post

This is not my 100th post but I’m going to shamelessly pilfer the idea from almost every blog I’ve read and give you 100 facts about me…whether you want them or not.

1. I’ve been bitten by a dog twice, but still love them.

2. I’ve been bitten by a cat once and now I stay well clear.

3. I once accidentally ran through a plate glass door.

4. I skipped the first two months of my second to last year of school.

5. I got caught and my mum gave me the look, which as a mother I would love to have mastered by now, but haven’t.

6. I once ran away from home. I lasted two weeks but called my mum everyday.

7. I fell into a skip (big dumpster with a low side for wheelbarrow access) when I was 14 because I was too busy looking at a boy.

8. I am an occasional smoker and by that I mean I occasionally smoke for four years and quit for two.

9. I wish I hadn’t mentioned that last one because it’s a filthy disgusting habit and I’m weak for not being able to break it.

10. I have a full on girly crush on Mark Harmon.

11. I secretly have a thing for a lot of older men with grey hair, especially if they seem like they’re smarter than me. Weird, I know.

12. I don’t think Sean Connery is attractive.

13. I laugh hysterically in my sleep. It has been recorded on a number of occasions.

14. I play on toots little swing even though I really don’t fit on it.

15. I hate the beach, but love the sea.

16. I’ve passed every mock exam I’ve ever taken with flying colours, but barely made it through the ones that count by the skin of my teeth.

17. I went to a grammar school.

18. I have been hired for jobs based on the fact that I went to a grammar school even though I was ridiculously under qualified.

19. When I first typed grammar I spelt it with an “e”.

20. I can’t drive. I lived five minutes from anywhere I wanted to be growing up and I just never got round to learning.

21. I don’t regret that I can’t drive, I like to walk and I’m used to it. I do know a lot of people who regret (thinking) that they need to drive.

22. I genuinely believe that I could kill a man if he harmed my daughter.

23. I sat by her bed every night for three weeks after she came home from the hospital and slept curled around her during he day.

24. I can’t have any more children.

25. I can’t remember anything for three days after having her and have a lot of photos I have no recollection of.

26. I requested copies of my maternity notes and records through the law firm I worked at when I went back to work but didn’t read them for another eight months.

27. I had nightmares for a month after I read them and cursed my curiosity.

28. I have two tattoos, one tribal symbol on my stomach, which is now very misshapen and a pink flying elephant at the base of my neck. The first was a gift from my husband and the second was a bored Sunday trying to prove to a friend that getting a tattoo doesn’t actually hurt.

29. I prefer the winter. In fact I absolutely love winter.

30. I love scarves and hot chocolate.

31. I have been mistaken for a French woman on more than one occasion because of the scarves and hot chocolate.

32. I am a dyed in the wool 80s rock chick even though I came out of the 80s at age 10.

33. I can’t abide people who say they don’t like something when they have never tried it.

34. I’m that annoying person who will torture you until you try the thing you claim to dislike.

35. I will eat absolutely anything and my friends take advantage of this at every opportunity.

36. I think Carrie Bradshaw is a prude and has no business writing a sex column.

37. I could run my washing machine constantly for a week and still the laundry wouldn’t be finished

38. I hate “perfect”. I am perfectly content with “finished”.

39. I buy lots of moisturiser but always forget to use it.

40. I don’t really like flowers, I prefer greenery.

41. Green is my favourite colour, I used to think it was blue but I was wrong. It has always been green.

42. I call teenage girls who wear nothing but baby pink and white “princess marshmallow”.

43. I think Madonna should seriously consider retirement before she hurts herself.

44. My brother and I hated each other until I moved out and now we’re the best of friends.

45. I find it very hard to believe that I am no longer sixteen.

46. My house is usually chaotic. I think it would be great to have someone come in and do the cleaning but in reality I would probably clean before they got here in case they thought bad things about me.

47. I take hundreds of photos and never print them because I am useless with a camera.

48. I only learnt to knit because I was annoyed nobody knitted anything for toots when she was born.

49. Knitting is the easiest thing in the world; however crochet is the required entrance exam for Mensa.

50. I can’t crochet.

51. This REALLY annoys me.

52. I speed read. I have read every book I own at least three times and I can guarantee it will still sound new the next time I read it.

53. I’m looking out of my living room window wondering when it got dark and if I can get away with not feeding my husband tonight.

54. If I had started a swear box when I was a teenager I could retire by now.

55. I always think I’m a decent stomach flu away from my ideal weight.

56. I don’t get air guitar. If you can’t, don’t. Would you jump out of a plane pretending you had a parachute? No, thought not.

57. Playing with a plastic guitar is not air guitar no matter what Rock Heroes would lead you to believe.

58. People in this country hate white van drivers. I miss my husband’s big white van.

59. Himself and I got married for a free upgrade on a holiday and decided we quite liked the idea of being married about two days before the wedding.

60. My wedding cost £34.00.

61. Had I booked it a month earlier it would have cost £30.

62. I actually do call toots “toots”. It isn’t just a bloggy thing.

63. I never think to make toast for myself, but have to have it if someone else does.

64. I love to light the fire and curl up in front of it, but only do it at Christmas in case the novelty wears off.

65. I love handbags and shoes; they’re a fat girl’s best friends.

66. I am fat.

67. I’m secular humanist. If you had asked me in my teens I would have said I was atheist but I’m much happier now I’m in charge of what I do.

68. I’m an early bird and a night owl.

69. Until I had toots I rarely had more than four hours sleep a night, now six is plenty.

70. I think I should have been born in Spain and plan to retire there. The idea of a siesta appeals to me.

71. I would love to visit Honk Kong but can’t imagine doing it with a child in tow.

72. I quite fancy the idea of writing a cookery book.

73. I am convinced that one day I will win the lottery, hopefully this will be the day I actually spend £1 and do the lottery.

74. I went on honeymoon to Egypt and would go back tomorrow. I think I could spend ten years there and not see everything I want to see.

75. When I went to Las Vegas I thought I could spend a day and visit all the casinos (because I’m an idiot). It took three.

76. I don’t like IPod. Creative is the king of all MP3 players.

77. I won’t eat fish or seafood caught by a trawler.

78. I don’t have any problem with eating cows and chickens since we’re the only ones on the planet that do.

79. Although, I don’t really like meat, if I’m honest. I maybe eat it once a week.

80. I keep a jar of Nutella (chocolate hazelnut spread) in the fridge and eat I with a spoon straight from the jar.

81. I love Christmas but I’m not bonkers about any of the other holidays.

82. Actually that was a lie. I kind of like Halloween.

83. I would quite like smaller boobs. I think bras fall into three categories; pretty, supportive and the one I where, scaffolding.

84. I don’t wear makeup, but I probably should.

85. I’ve tried the cabbage soup diet….and the colour diet, but I didn’t really understand that one.

86. I spent a lot of my time as a child with my great aunt. She was very old fashioned and a proper lady. Because of this.

87. I never chew gum.

88. I can’t bring myself to cross my legs at the knee, only at the ankle.

89. I can’t let toots out of the house with bare shoulders, even to play in her paddling pool.

90. My great aunt spoiled me rotten and regularly gave me mandarin oranges served on a silver platter. And I’m not kidding.

91. I think cereal is a perfectly acceptable evening meal.

92. I’m very impatient and because of that I’m probably going to post this way before my hundredth post.

93. I might actually post a picture of myself for my hundredth post.

94. I love kid’s movies. My current favourite is “Over the Hedge”.

95. I like Pepsi, not Coke. Full fat, not diet.

96. If I could start every meal with dessert, I would.

97. I hate vacuuming. I was once PMSing and got tangled in the vacuum cable. It kept getting in the way and it made me cry a little. I’ve never gotten over it.

98. My mum’s dog Bruno died just over six months ago and toots still talks about him like he’s in the room. I think this is normal. Kids are supposed to be like that, aren’t they?

99. I’m convinced I can swim even though I haven’t been in a pool in ten years. I might be in for a surprise.

100. Himself and I are the youngest couple on our road. The neighbours loved us until we got married and have barely acknowledged us since.

Scarf Pattern - Adding to the Christmas Stash


I think I'm finally getting on top of these Christmas presents.


We're all agreed as a family this year to only give token gifts to the home as a whole, baked goods, a tin of sweets, that kind of thing, but because I've already finished a few things I'll still give them as presents this year. I've explained that there are already finished and ready to be given and that I don't expect anything in return, so nobody will feel pressured to run out and buy a last minute present.

I picked up this yarn in the January sale last year, it's 70% acrylic and 30% wool, DK weight and it's lovely and soft, perfect for a garment worn next to the skin.

I started the scarf as a plain garter stitch scarf without any real plan of where I would go with it, because of the variegation in the yarn I thought it would be nice enough left plain, but somewhere in the second ball I decided it needed something else.

The pattern is as follows

CO 35 st
k every row until scarf is desired length
begin short row
k 34 st turn leaving 1 stitch on the original needle and k back across 34 st.
k 33 st turn leaving 2 stitches one the original needle and k back across 33 st.
carry on like this knitting one less stitch on each row until the last row.
k 1 st, turn and k 1 stitch.
If you wish to leave the scarf tapering to a point cast off at this stage, otherwise;
(k, p, k) into every stitch on needle.
knit for six more rows and cast off.

I used a pattern from a Nicky Epstien book for the corsage but you can get lovely patterns for these here and here and at Knitting Pattern Central, or feel free to leave the scarf completely unadorned.

Yarn Stash


I’ve been very good this last week or so, trying to get on top of all those small jobs which, if left undone, amount to one hell of a big job.

I’ve also been knitting like a woman possessed, trying to get everything finished in time for Christmas.

You may recall I’ve mentioned before that my yarn stash is not what you would call organised. I’ve tried and tried before, but I always wind up spending some time and sorting out a small amount of my yarn (whilst at the same time getting completely sidetracked and starting to flick through patterns to see what to do with yarn I’d forgot I even had) and then mussing it all up again at a later date while rummaging to find something.

So I’ve been out and bought a box of huge zip lock bags. These things will easily hold four or five 100g balls of yarn plus (hopefully) the pattern they’re destined to become. I’m about half way through the job and a lot of what’s left are recent enough purchases (the last 18 months) and I can still remember which pattern they are for, so with a bit of luck and willpower I should get the rest sorted in about an hour or so.

Now Wednesday or more precisely Works for me Wednesday snuck up on me and I haven’t taken any pictures of my own, but I’d be chuffed to bits if I could get the stash looking like this.

Well, ok, I’d be happy with this, besides anything that organised might make the rest of my house cry.

courtesy of Ms. Pants


For more WFMW head back (I’m assuming that’s how you found me) over to Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

Frozen peppers and feeling undeservedly superior


What with Saturday having some lovely weather and toots off to a birthday party with Nana, I decided to spend the afternoon market haunting.

My fruit and veg guy obviously had somewhere to be in the afternoon and when I arrived he was already packing up, at least an hour earlier than usual (or maybe he just knew I was coming and wanted to get the hell out of there).

He had a box of mixed bell peppers which he had marked down to £0.40 each which is actually a pretty good price here. They usually run about £0.50-£0.60 each for a medium sized one or £0.99 for three little tiddlers.

I maybe got lucky because he just wanted to get packed and away, but I offered him £0.15 each and I would take the entire box off his hands and he finally agreed. He doesn't do any markets on a Sunday and would have had to wait until Monday to try selling them again and they were already very ripe.

Alright, so I don't drive and it meant lugging a box of 24 peppers home with me but I was a very happy bunny when I got them home. I sliced the whole box into strips and froze them on baking sheets before dumping them into two large zip lock bags. I get through a lot of peppers in this house, but they'll still last a couple of months.

And does anyone else get that odd slightly elated feeling, that you rock as a mommy and wife when you have a glut of something (that if it was all you had left, you could make a meal of) in your freezer. And why do I get exactly the same feeling when I've stocked up on toilet paper?

Does anyone know what this is?


I don't know if its the drastic change in weather here over the last couple of years, but I'm starting to notice some really weird bugs and winged beasties like this one.
I've absolutely no clue what it is, maybe somebody else does but I just thought it was freaky enough looking to deserve a mention. It's about two inches long and about three inches wide.
And yes, I'm still imperial, so shoot me.

Sunday! Already?



Just a quick pic of Toots chillin in the forest.

The weather here all weekend (well until an hour ago) has been great, which isn't a surprise considering all the kids are back to school and it's always sunny once they go back (picture the faces of poor little kiddies staring forlornly out of a classroom window at the glorious sunshine), so I packed a bag, grabbed the family and headed out the door.

I'll be back tomorrow though, fully refreshed and hopefully with more than five minutes to spare.

Weird?

I'll start by explaining a little background.

I remain very good friends with the man I was engaged to and I left, for the man I married and meet up quite often for coffee or lunch.

Now neither of them would want to get together for a pint down the local but Himself is very understanding of the fact that I'm just not the sort of person to write somebody off and cut them out of my life completely. My ex and I get along well as friends, but that's about the height of it.

My husband is confident enough in himself to know that I won't up sticks and run off with an ex.

The thing is, all of my friends and work colleagues think that this is very odd and strange. I'm never done hearing comments when I return from a lunch that their husband's would have none of it, they'd pitch a fit, cry or completely lose the plot over something I consider to be a relatively small thing.

I'm not sure if they find it odd because I'm still friends with the guy or that my husband knows about it and doesn't mind. I can't imagine that you could manage to go through life and never once bump into an ex while out doing your shopping. The world's a very small place after all.

So my question is this. Is this such a odd thing? Do you still get along well with an ex? Does your husband or wife mind?

Or am I just a weirdo?

WFMW - Desperately Seeking...........Something.

I’m just having a mini rant this week rather than post anything that might actually be useful.

You see, nothing’s working for me this week. I’ve been late to work everyday. The house looks like something exploded. The garden is a complete disaster with the high winds we’ve been having.

Don’t even start me on the pile of ironing I have hidden in the bottom (middle and top) of a wardrobe.

I’ve posted naff all in about a week.

And yes, in spite of the complete and utter uselessness of this post I’m still going to link to WFMW because I think the only thing that will work for me this week is a friendly voice. Oh and hugs…….don’t forget to leave hugs.

For some really useful ideas head on over to Rocks in my Dryer. I know I’ll be scouring every last one for ideas of how to get out of this dip and whether to start on the east or west face of Mount Hellovalotado.

WFMW - The Need to Read

This week's Works for Me Wednesday over with Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer is a themed edition. Simply put the posts are all begging for ideas on the things that have us completely stumped.



Now, Toots is a little over three and, I think, old enough to start learning to read rather than just cleverly memorise what words look like so she can fob mommy off at a later date (trust me there's a difference).



For this I need your help. I have quite a lot of books at home for her, a lot of them are along the idea of flashcards, and the more recent ones are short children's stories. However, the story books have been written by idiots.



She isn't engaged by them in the slightest, they're brightly coloured and that's about it. There's no plot, moral to the story, nothing to make it stick in her head.



They aren't even repetitve in the "see spot run, see spot jump" kind of way I remember my first books as being.



What I would like is for you to give me the names of books or authors of children's books which you're children were mad about.



What did they love and ask for night after night. Basically, which books did you eventually claim "you couldn't find" when your kids asked for them.



I'm not particular, I'll take suggestions for anything, modern, time tested classics, anything at all.



Please help a woman desperate for her child's memories of her early reading experiences not to be "hmmmm".

Labour Day Meme

Ok, so Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer has posted a meme in honour of Labour Day, about.......Labour. Oh the horrors.

I only have the one, so this'll be nice and simple (unlike the labour).

How long were your labours?

17.5 hours. And yes that half hour matters.

How did you know you were in labor?

My water broke at about half past dark o'clock (4.30am) one particular drizzly, dull looking morning.

Where did you deliver?

In hospital. I am nowhere near brave enough to consider a home birth.

Drugs?

Yes, I paid a visit to the buffet line thank you.

Pethidine (which makes you sick)
The one they give you to counteract the sickness (thank you pethidine)
Gas and air (this stuff should be sold over the counter)
A tens machine (airy fairy pain relief, completely useless)
An epidural (which didn't take)
A top up for the epidural (which still didn't take)
A spinal tap (that one took, woohoo did it take)

C-section?

Yep, although toots was in the "head down" position. Every nurse, midwife and consultant to give me an internal (ick) in the first 15 hours failed to realise she was facing forward instead of backwards (apparently a problem). They tried suction first, because apparently hospitals in Northern Ireland can't authorise a c-section without having exhausted all other avenues first, because of the expense.

Who delivered?

One of two surgeons. I was taken into theatre during a split shift, so they were supposed to swap over mid section and both wound up staying for the full event.

But I can't thank every one the room enough. It was one of those moments in your life when although your entire world is caving in around you, you feel really taken care of and as though everyone in the room is completely focused on you and your child.

I've heard people say before that during their labour they basically felt like a piece of meat and I have to say that my experience was the complete opposite, everyone in that room was right there for me and my baby.

And there were a lot of people;

Two surgeons, a baby crash team of two, three consultants (who came in and out), four on duty midwives and two midwives who had stayed long past the end of their shift to make sure I was ok and were basically just there for moral support at the time of the actual birth. They were called Karen and Mary and I can't thank them enough, I would have been completely lost without them.

The husband wasn't doing too well by this stage and I needed them more than anything. I had told him to come in with me and that they would put up a screen so that he wouldn't have to see anything. There ended up not being enough time to put up a screen of any description let alone one that would block out his view and he had to witness the whole thing.

If you would like to participate in this meme, just cut and paste the questions to your own blog and link to the original post at Rocks in my Dryer.

Has anyone seen a small child...possibly with a Crayola plaster on her left knee?

Hmm, ways I’ve broken the baby.

*Lemme see, lemme think*. How can I possibly choose?

Well, she’s bumped her head….more than once, actually more than twice.

Lets see, she’s taken a swan dive off my bed, the first time she kind of did this odd looking back flippy thing and landed sitting perfectly, facing the bed itself. The second time she just tipped backwards and “lightening mommy” caught her by the ankle. Of course, then I was stuck at full stretch across the bed holding a baby by the ankle trying to make the decision to either lift her up and risk shoulder dislocation, or lower her onto the ground. Muscle strain kicked in and I lowered her.

She has been hit on the head with a swing, somersaulted off a trampoline into a nearby hedge, tumbled down a slide when she tried to down on her belly. She’s nipped herself on countless door hinges, ran into door frames and she’s fallen off god knows how many chairs.

She’s fine though, not a scratch on her.

She there she is, upright and mobile, laughing her head off.

(By the way she’s running towards me, not away. Just so you know)




Want to see some more examples of exceptional parenting? Then head over to visit Beth at Domestic Spaz.