The Movie of My Life

I know I've been a bit of a lightweight on the posts recently. I'm not going to apologise, that's just the way it goes. However, there's nothing like a meme when the blogging inspiration is not flowing. Nickie over at Typecast  and She Means Well both posted on a loose theme along the same lines, namely what a film of their life would look like, and it got me thinking about who would play me in a silver screen version of my life. 

Now, I don't know about you, but I've only ever been told that I look like someone famous twice in my life - both times by men trying to get access to my underwear, so I didn't really take it that seriously. 

Bizarrely, the first time, I was likened to a "young Grace Kelly" - very flattering, I'm sure you'll agree, although bizarre mainly due to the fact that I was actually dressed as Magenta from the Rocky Horror Show at the time. (A most memorable night, during which there was no longer any doubt whatsoever about the sexuality of my friend M, after he rolled up in full Frank 'Nfurter costume...)

Spot the Difference

Anyway, as is widely known, Grace Kelly sadly no longer resides with us, so having her play me in a story of my life would probably be slightly tricky.

Moving on to only second person I have ever been compared to; Nina Persson - lead singer of Swedish band The Cardigans:

I think the comparison was mainly based on the Scandinavian cheekbones that we share, although I do actually think that she looks a bit more like mummyblogger in the pic above!

Anyway, as she's not really Hollywood enough, I've finally decided to go with (...drumroll please...):

Yes - Drew Barrymore - mainly as she does the slightly goofy ingénue so well, and I can't hide my slightly clumsy and haphazard side, no matter how I try to be the graceful swan. Pictured above with a certain someone my husband used to get compared to when we first met (this was the mid-nineties, when anyone with a floppy fringe liked to think they were straight out of Four Weddings and a Funeral). 

I think these days he's less Hugh Grant, and more Robert Downey Jr, though:

I so would

Anyway, as this wasn't really a meme that got passed on to me as such, I'm not going to tag anyone, but am going to leave it open to any of you that feel you fancy a go. 

Random Silliness

After yesterday's slightly whingeing post topped by a terrible night's sleep, I'm definitely in the mood for something light-hearted this lunchtime and for some reason I couldn't get this out of my head. The clip below has my two favourite ingredients; namely Muppets plus The Sound of Music. What's not to like?

I Need to Learn To Say No

source

- The vomiting bug has entered our house. It has taken out the two smallest members of the household, and is bound to come looking for the adults some point soon.

- I'm washing and ironing like it's going out of fashion (see above)
- I'm trying to do a day job whilst spending 90% of my time being asked questions for "integration"  due to co. takeover
- I've just agreed to take on the departmental newsletter
- I have a tonne of blog memes I am probably never going to get around to doing (sorry to anyone that has tagged me)
- Still haven't worked out what to buy husband for his 40th and time is running out fast (any ideas for the ultra-fussy man who has everything?!)

To say life is a little hectic at the moment is an understatement. Half term holiday?! Ha.

In Which I Admit I Am A Cowardly Custard

My mother has always been considered...how can I put this politely...somewhat overcautious when it comes to health and safety by my father, my brother and myself. She was always the one that would freak out if we tried to climb a wall, or go too close to the edge of a high building (her own vertigo didn't help). I have always been very conscious of the fact that I should try and avoid being too cautious with my own children.

Turns out it's not actually that easy.

Maybe it's conditioning, maybe it's some kind of deep maternal instinct, but I have started to see the worst in all possible situations. Most of the time I can keep these fears under control. The only time I can't is when it comes to road safety. We have had a very close shave with each of our children - occasions that left me literally shaking and sobbing with the thought of what could have happened, had luck not been on our side. We live on quite a busy road, in quite an urban area, so trips to and from pretty much anywhere involve negotiating road safety. I am slowly starting to trust DD1, who at 5 and a half at least knows not to run out into the road, and allow her a little more freedom. I still insist on her holding my hand most of the time when we cross, however. I do still insist on DD2 (2 years younger than her sister) holding my hand whenever we are walking by a road.

I bumped into an acquaintance the other day, who also has two daughters, the eldest of is not quite yet 3. We walked through the park, with said eldest daughter on a little self-propelled car, while my friend pushed her youngest in a pushchair. At the edge of the park there are some large, wrough-iron gates, which lead straight onto a road. This road is not particularly busy, but there is a wall on the corner that makes it difficult to see any oncoming traffic. The gates were open, and the little girl (let's call her I) was merrily pushing her way towards them, showing no sign of stopping. Her mother did not bat an eyelid when she proceeded through the gates into the road. It was only when we saw the lorry approaching that she shouted out to her daughter that she should have been more careful and looked where she was going. Thankfully, the lorry was driving slowly and stopped, however, I could not help thinking that things could have been different.

I was obviously somewhat surprised at the mother's calm reaction, given my own fears. I don't want to judge her - the example is merely an illustration of the point that children and road safety probably don't mix very well. I am just as guilty of what others might consider horrible lapses of judgement. However, I am curious as to what everyone else's experiences are on this.

Do you let your children cross the road by themselves? At what ages did you start, and how did you make sure they knew about road safety?

Learning to Love my Legs?

Review post


I'm getting to that stage in life where I feel comfortable in my skin. I have come to terms with the fact that certain bits wobble more than I would like, and gravity and the fact that I have had two children is taking its toll. You can do amazing things with a bit of scaffolding and a spot of padding. However, one thing that I have always hated is my legs (once unkindly, but fairly, likened to those of a footballer). This has meant that I have learnt through bitter experience to steer clear of skinny jeans and leggings, and skirts and dresses only come out on very rare occasions.

When I therefore recently won a giveaway on the lovely blog of my style guru for a pair of children's tights from Tights Please, I mentioned something along these lines in my comment. This was picked up by the marketing assistant fromTights Please, who kindly asked me if I would like to try some new leg wear for myself to see if I could be persuaded to "get my legs out" a little more often.

I'll be honest - I was sceptical. My leg loathing is pretty well ingrained and has been for as long as I care to remember. However, I gave in and thought - what the hell. Which is how I found myself with a pair of the "Gladdis tights" by Red or Dead:

Glorious Gussets!

I've always been a sucker for nice packaging, but I suppose it is what is inside that really counts:

...and I don't know about you, but I do think my legs have looked worse. 

Who knows? Maybe I'll even get my legs out more often... 

You have been warned.

Licking Windows*

Photo by Elvis Payne via Flickr

I have forgotten how to shop. Actually, let me rephrase that; I have forgotten how to window shop, how to browse. (I am of course perfectly capable of remembering the basics of shopping - pick up goods, take to till, pay, etc).

Since having children I rarely get time to myself to wander aimlessly round the shops. Shopping has become a purely functional experience - get in, get what you want, get out. Going as a family is worse, as it involves one of us running around after the kids, whilst the other goes through the well-oiled routine.

I went into town yesterday for a hair appointment, and happened to find myself with a spare half an hour. I almost felt lost. I walked around shops in a daze, not knowing quite what I was supposed to do. There was nothing I had specifically come for - why should I waste precious time looking at things that were of no interest? The sight of Christmas decorations frightened me, and the people loitering started to irritate me. In the end I bought some tights in Marks & Spencer's and fled.

I think I'll stick to the internet in future.

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*Have always loved the French term for window shopping -"lecher les vitrines" - "to lick the windows"