They say you learn something new everyday. Well I’m not entirely sure exactly who, ‘They’ are, but I think They’re right. Certainly in my case.

I’m as inquisitive as they come. I like to learn, I like to know stuff. I’m a little obsessed if truth be told.



I did not, however, intend on acquiring any new knowledge at all today. Cos it’s Sunday. I suspect that when ‘They’ wrote the rule about learning new things every day, they forgot to add, ‘except on Sunday’s.’

Because everybody knows that Sunday is the Sabbath, which means it serves as little more than a day in which the alcohol can sufficiently vacate our bloodstreams in time for Monday’s to commence. It’s written in the bible you see.

And who am I to argue with that? If the big man upstairs insists on my complying to the rules of the Sabbath, by lazing around in my PJ’s, with my brain switched off, then I really should obey. After all I might never go to Heaven otherwise?

Well, at the risk of facing the flames, I have a confession to make. Today I broke the rules.

It all began when I forgot to get drunk last night. And that was because I was too busy suffering a hangover. Which might be because I now have some blonde highlights in my hair, (‘They’ also claim that blondes are somehow not as intelligent as brunettes,) which could possibly explain why I got my dates muddled up and got pissed on Friday night instead of Saturday.

To be honest I don’t suppose it matters how it happened. All that really matters is that I have broken the rules. Because I accidentally learnt a few things today.

The first piece of knowledge I acquired today was the meaning of the word, ‘Anthropologist,’ which was provided for me, amongst others, as a suggestion of words to be included in tonight’s blog post. The knowledge came directly from Wikipedia, one of my favourite sources of knowledge on the world wide web.

The second piece of knowledge I acquired was that seeking suggestions for words that I might use in my blog post was not a sufficient method to use in trying to cure writers block.

Thus the third piece of knowledge that I acquired today was that the statement ‘works well under pressure’ should probably be erased from my CV. Because tonight, after asking you guys what words I should include in this blog post, I discovered that I don’t work well under pressure at all. In fact now that I have a list of 10 words to include in this blog post, my brain is entirely void of appropriate content, I have spent hours trying to locate something even half intelligent in my empty head, but there’s nada and now I’m rambling, and I seriously doubt that any of this will make much sense when it’s finished.

The thing is I haven’t written a ‘proper’ blog in a few days now, and a couple of you have written to me asking why, which has made me feel a little guilty. And so, even though I am tired and poorly and quite obviously lacking in wit, intelligence and humour today, I felt I ought to write a blog post for you anyway, cos it’s so long overdue.



I haven’t got a lot to blog about. I have Steph flu again have spent much of my time in my delicious bed with ‘Connect FM’ to keep me company. My life hasn’t been greatly interesting and nothing dramatic has arisen (thank god and touch wood) - normally when my life is plodding along at a normal rate (which is pretty rare,) I let Divine Inspiration write my posts. Trouble is my divine inspiration has taken leave of absence and until she returns I’m afraid I don’t have anything worthy to share with you.

Well she’s been gone a while now, my divine inspiration and I hope she comes back soon, cos if she doesn’t I might have to get myself a proper job. I didn’t realise it but I’m pretty crap without my divine inspiration. And asking you guys to suggest words for me just won’t cut it.

Not that I’m blaming you. Indeed you picked fine words for me to include. And ordinarily I could find myself incredibly inspired by items such as Banana’s and Swallows, (although looking at them both in the same sentence I’m struggling to think of anything non-pornographic.) And if I’d had my brain I’m sure I could have written something extremely political and poignant about the Army, or indeed something sweet and whimsical to include the word, ‘serendipity’. Instead though I have produced this. A post about a load of bollocks.  

And now I know why they say Quality is more important that Quantity. (‘They’ really are very wise, aren’t they?!)


Fear not, I'm sure plenty of chocolate, ibuprofen and sleep will coax my Divine Inspiration back, and I promise never to blog in her absense again :-)

Steph x



P.S I'd like to apologise to Claire for not including your word, it was the hardest word of them all . . . ! Hope the picture will do instead?! :-) lol

 
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Somebody has stolen my hot water. And it isn’t funny because I really want to get in the tub, I need to wash my hair before Santa comes, (Santa doesn’t bring presents to dirty girls.) 

I hadn’t intended on writing tonight, I thought I would be frantically wrapping pressies and tidying the house as is the norm for me at this time of the year. However, (and I don’t wanna count my chickens early and all that) something miraculous has happened. I seem to have Christmas and all the preparations in the bag already ;-)

I don’t know how I did it. I’ve got Steph Flu and everything. Yet despite my poorliness and despite the snow, which is still settled and glistening all over our neck of the woods, I managed to complete mission Christmas with more speed and efficiency than Anneka Rice on speed. And I’m not even wearing a shell-suit.

The pressies are sitting pretty in their newly acquired gift wrap and bows, and the kitchen now houses many a festive treat. The Fridge is full of baileys and beers, the mistletoe hung, the stockings ready, all that is missing is the main man himself. Who of course won’t be coming unless I clean my hair. I hope who ever stole my hot water returns it soon. 

Whilst I am waiting patiently for the emulsion boiler thingy to kick in, (is this right?!) I thought I’d come pay you a visit.

This is my darling son Leo’s first Christmas. Of course he knows very little of the season to be jolly, though he tends to be pretty jolly most of the time anyway, I’ve just tucked him into bed, his little face grinning from ear to ear. He likes to kick the covers off in order to watch is exasperated Mumma tuck him in over and over again. Tis a game he has become rather fond of, he giggles the entire time. Cheeky boy.

I can’t help but think of his big brother at the moment. Especially since we would have been celebrating Harry’s first birthday in 2 days time, if he had have been born on time. I only hope that wherever he is, he’s safe and happy, and that he knows how much his Mumma loves him.

That’s the thing about Christmas, it magnifies ones life and highlights the important things, the things we’ve achieved, the things we haven’t,  those we’ve loved and those we’ve lost. It’s no wonder so many people suffer at this time of year. 

I am looking at my own life in such a positive light though, I know I’ll see my baby boy again someday, but until then I’m enjoying what I do have. I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with two gorgeous, angelic children, I must have done something really good in a previous life to have them. 
 
Material presents aside I am feeling very lucky this year, even if Santa doesn’t come I reckon I’ve already got the greatest gifts I could hope to achieve and I don’t care how corny that sounds.

As well as the Crimbo decorations, and the newly acquired crystals, candles and other bits and bobs we purchased when we decorated the living room the other week, we have two new additions to the lounge. Two rather massive glass awards with Jay’s name on them ;-)

On Saturday night my extremely deserving husband was promoted from Area Sales Manager to Senior Sales Manager. And not just because he’s getting old either ;-) He’s worked his derriere off this year to ensure that the team he manages have risen above the rest and I’m so proud of him.

So proud. Couldn’t be prouder. Very happy for him. Really very happy. *But also a teeny, weeny, tiny bit jealous. :-/

Don’t be outraged. I know I sound ridiculous. I don’t mean to be jealous it’s just that, well, I’ve never won an award before. 

Seriously 26 years on this planet and the closest thing I’ve ever got to an award was the little medal that they give out to everyone that takes part in the Race For Life.

My chosen occupation can be very lonely. It’s just me and my laptop, and my laptop never tells me when I’ve written something good, (though is very quick to put a red squiggly line under any mistakes I might make!) so you see? No team work, no Christmas Do’s in lavish hotels and no awards ceremony. 

As much as I love writing I can’t help but be green with envy. (or is that dirt?! Oh where the hell is my hot water?!!)

Sunday morning,  whilst I was feeling incredibly fragile owing to the Steph Flu and also the amount of alcohol consumed on Saturday night, Jay returned from his 5 star Christmas Do and proudly displayed the awards he’d won, and I smiled and cried at the same time.

I told him how very proud and very jealous I was and explained to him how I longed to be presented with an award of my own. 

And the moment that succeeded this was one I shall never erase from my heart.

Footsteps tinkered down the hall and rustling could be heard in my bedroom before my little princess returned to the living room and instructed me to close my eyes. 

Obligingly I held out my hands and closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I found myself presented with my famous red heels. The same pair I wore in the photo for the front cover of my book.

Tears in my eyes I glanced back to my sweet daughter, her face lit with excitement. And watched in awe as she started to clap her little hands. 

‘To you Mummy,’ she said in her little high-pitched voice, ‘your award for being the best Mummy and Writer in the world.’

And my heart melted then and there.

Okay so I’ve not quite conquered all in my world. I’m not yet the greatest writer on earth (a girl can dream though,) and I’m not yet worthy of an award of my very own, but I am, in the big blue eyes of my offspring, the bestest Mummy. And who could ask for more than that?!

Merry Christmas and love to all!

Steph x

 
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