I borrowed the idea of bleating from the ingenious Home Office Mum. A bleat is ‘…a random thought you have (which you’d like to share) and is too long for a tweet and not quite long enough for a blog post in its own right.’ Let’s start with
#icypavements Seriously, how difficult can it be? One big heap of vomit-resembling road salt every ten metres does not do an ice-free pavement. The weather forecast has promised snow for the last two weeks. So how comes the council of Islington is, once again, so bloody unprepared? The pavements are covered with a solid layer of ice, turning a short trip down to the shops into a potentially back-breaking mission. #rubbingthatbluebumcheek
#PeppaPigChristmasEpisode Please tell me I am not the only one who gets confused over the line ‘George hangs the balls’.
#holidayswithkids The winter sun break has been scrapped in favour for a week in Cornwall in February *shivers*. How do other people go on vacation with small kids? It’s not only the ten hour flight I fear – it’s the extra ticket and the extras in accommodation (nope, don’t fancy sharing a room with my daughter and going to bed at 7pm) that send the cost for a few days on a sunny beach soaring up into the sky, turning the Caribbean into a faint and distant memory. #Iwanttobeamillionaire
#boobs After ten months of excruciating exercise (Mr Cottonsocks turned out to be quite the drillmaster), I am back in shape. Hurray! However, there is one bit (or two, to be precise) that seems to be kaput for good. No matter how many push ups I do, my once gently curved bosom remains sadly deflated. A-Cup to DD and back is a journey without return, my dear friends. The only, and in my case rather unlikely solution: a lift and fill that not only involves a donut cut (cutting out of the nipple around the areola and repositioning it further north, ouch!), but also a bill of anything between 6 and 10k. I remember my midwife telling me I could save £800 in formula a year if I breastfed. Ha!
#iPhonelicking Ever tried to activate a touch screen with woollen gloves on?
Your turn now. What are you bleating about?