Funny things I have heard in the last week

From my friend C

On visit to new classroom to meet new teacher, Miss year 5 teacher asks if the new class have any questions. C's daughter's friend puts her hand up and asks "Have you got a boyfriend ? " Miss year 5 teacher says not that kind of question, a proper question, same child puts hand up and asks "How old are you ?"

From Eldest Beautiful Daughter

Tom and Sarah (fellow pupils both 16/17) are going to Ikea together. They don't even have a house. What can they buy ? A flat pack relationship ?

From Beautiful Baby Daughter

Miss PE Teacher told some big chavs to get off our sports field and they mooned her. I had to write a description of them cos I was at the front. I've never had to describe a chavs bum before.

From The Beautiful Son

I'm so gonna do that on my last day at school.

Pollyanna has left the building.

As a person I would say I used to be very pessimistic, a bit like expect the worst and then anything else is an upgrade. Very much a glass half empty kinda gal. I was brought up that way. One of my Grandma's favourite sayings was "She that expecteth nothing can never be disappointed"

When I was married I always had a worry list, I felt that if I was worrying about lots of little things God wouldn't give me a big feck off disaster to deal with. I had an omnipresent list of worries and looking back they were so trivial, something that occupied my mind a fair amount was why my shower doors had water marks on, I asked everyone what they used and tried the lot, no I can't imagine why my husband got bored either. I also worried about the children to a near Olympic standard, their safety, their health, their social skills, their education, their diet, nothing was too trivial for me not to have on my list.

Did I ever feel content ? Not really... there always seemed to be something just out of reach that would make me happy, I never seemed to just enjoy what I had, it was always a case of if.

Then I had 2006, my annus horribilis, when my marriage ended in the summer I went into survival mode and in Jan 2007 I started my blog, it's great for me to read back and see how I'm changing and adapting to my new life. I think I have become so much more optimistic and hopeful, I seemed to be able to see the positives in situations where before I'd always have seen the negatives.

Yet I feel now I am tending back towards the negatives, pondering on what I don't have rather than appreciating what I do have. Maybe that is my inherent personality and I am just reverting to type but I liked the sunny, optimistic version of me better. Is it human nature to dwell on what we don't have rather than appreciate what we do ?

I have 3 beautiful and healthy children and a fantastic relationship with them, we are much closer now than we were before, I have my health, I have a home to live in and I have friends. I am really and truly grateful for them, may that never change.

But

I seem to have lost my sense of purpose, I'm leaving teaching at the end of this academic year but I don't seem to have the inclination to forge out a new career path, I simply have no clue as to what I will do in September but I know I don't want to teach, yet I used to love it. You'd think the thought of being unemployed and unable to pay the mortgage would be a fantastic motivator but nope, searching and applying for jobs just isn't happening.

I'm missing being part of a couple, that feeling of being loved and supported isn't in my life and I want it. I was happy just me and the kids but I'm not anymore. I feel this pang when I see couples together. I hate this notion that I need a man to make me happy, I am generally happy but my brain seems hardwired to the idea of coupledom. I've had 2 significant relationships in the last 3 years and I feel so badly about the way they ended.

I'm wondering if I'll ever be lucky enough to have another or have I used all my love up ?

A Beginner's Guide to Essex and Daawn Saarf

On Friday night NB took me to see Doves at the Brixton Academy, because he is a lovely, lovely man. I'm not sure how NB's son felt about taking a middle aged auntie out on his birthday treat but he is a gorgeous and polite boy and I loved him.

The South is a strange place to me, it may be to you yourself, have some handy hints from your auntie, they may help you prepare.

It is the law that if you live in Essex you either have to be blonde, orange or have fake nails, it's better if you have all 3, they give you a discount on your council tax if you do. I truly saw a black man with a blonde mohawk, I am not making that bit up.

It can take a ferocious amount of time to drive anywhere, it took us 90 minutes to go 12 miles. This is not uncommon, apparently, this is why many people in London are grumpy or stone mad or both. There is a lot of beeping, an awful lot.

If you drive a BMW you are exempt from any traffic laws or codes of common courtesy that others may follow. You can be even more cavalier with the rules of the road if you drive a soft top BMW. There will be no raising of eyebrows or smart arse remarks from me about the men who drive these cars because NB is my friend, a lovely, lovely man and I want him to ditch Chloe's mum and take me to Kings of Leon, I am his proper friend.

You can't leave a soft top BMW in Brixton. You have to drive for an hour and a half, park in a safe place and then get 3 tubes to get there. This may account for the people being grumpy and stone mad as in point 2.

People in Essex judge you on how expensive your car is and how bling you are, don't think it works the same in Edinburgh, it doesn't, we don't do that, millionaires drive beaten up old Volvo estates and buy clothes from charity shops. This may be why they have money.

London was fantastic and I was overgiddy with delight to see The Gherkin and Tower Bridge, I actually did ooh noises and I believe I may have clapped my hands excitedly in the manner of a small child who's had too much sugar.

Doves were amazing and the Brixton Academy was my kind of venue, I loved it. It has so much character and it made me miss the Glasgow Apollo RIP.

Middle aged bald men can and will dance, some of them will even take their (middle aged) stripey shirts off to do it. Fair play to them, sure where's the harm ?

Directions to Doves

You know how I always tell you I'm a lucky, lucky girl ? All right lucky, lucky middle aged woman, tonight my lovely friend is taking me to see Doves at the Brixton Academy, streemly citing for an auntie who doesn't get out much.

The plan is I drive to lovely friend in White Stiletto and Fake Tan Land (and that's just the men !) and then we go by tube. Please read some extracts from the emails (3 in total) that gave me directions.

Don't take the A10 off the motorway...your sat nav might suggest that.

When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much. Then you're on the A121

and I replied

Sat nav !
Would you give yourself peace ! I only go to work, the supermarket and my mothers, I have no need of a sat nav, I have no life, you read my blog and know that.
I did laugh (out loud) at your directions of
"When you come off the motorway it's complicated....you come to a roundabout wher you sort of go straight on/go leftish but not much."

and then he replied


yes..mmm...erm I think I'm totally misleading you...I think the road bends to the left and then you have to take a sharp right...then you get to the straight onish leftish bit....just don't quote me

So, I wonder if I'll find his house or if I'll be left wandering in deepest darkest WSAFT Land.

No, I'm not wondering why men drive around and won't admit they're lost, not at all !

Meme, me and me again

Greetings my little bloggy chums, I'm home safely from Prague (which was lovely) and I'm now knee deep in papers to mark (which is not lovely) and I have so much to do and my house so badly needs cleaning and sorting (no change there then !) and yet I still find the time to blog (selfless to the core, I know)

Congratulations to The Edge and Mud on surviving the London Marathon, much kudos to you both. Mud has tagged me with this meme and as we all know, your auntie is a great big fat show off and compliant by nature so here's my answers. I wonder if there is anything left to find out about me ?


1.What are your current obsessions?
Theoutnet.com designer handbag and shoe porn

2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?
Do my jammies count ? No ? Probably Gap jeans, long and lean, a Petit Bateau childrens black vest (age 14) and a grey cardie currently the boyfriend one from M&S as my Gap cashmere one still hasn't been sewed up.

3. What's for dinner?
God Almighty, you sound just like my children, I don't bloody know, I only decide when the offspring start mithering me to make their tea.

4. Last thing you bought?
Assorted groceries from Sainsbury's and for myself ? that was a Starbucks mug with Prague on it.

5. What are you listening to?
New White Lies CD

6. If you were a god/goddess who would you be?
Oh come on ! The Goddess of Love of course, either Aphrodite, Venus or Isis, any of those, as always, hear me say the words, my name is auntiegwen and I am a love addict, a mush junkie extraordinaire

7. Favourite holiday spots
Places I've yet to see

8. Reading right now?
The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff, OCR exam and portfolio guidance and The Sunday Times.

9. 4 words to describe yourself.
Small, Scottish, tired and maternal

10. Guilty pleasure?
Sneaky smokes on nights out accompanied by wine (I never smoke when I'm not drinking)

11. Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?
Billy Connolly, Peter Kay, Frankie Boyle, The Beautiful Son

12. First spring thing?
White tulips

13. Planning to travel to next?
Probably Turkey at the half term break (if our passports come back in time, the saga of replacing the passports is another blog all to itself)

14. Best thing you ate or drank lately?
Ice cold pink champagne on Saturday night in Prague

15. When did you last get tipsy?
Sunday afternoon in Prague

16. Favourite ever film?
Gregory's Girl

17. First Love ?
I was 15 and he was 16, his name was Alan Osprey and he got called Ospur. He was a punk, had beautiful blue eyes and dark hair and was tall. I loved him wholeheartedly and was devastated when we broke up.

18. What do you most want to achieve ?
Total peace of mind and true happiness, I've had it before and I'd like it back again please.


Rules of the meme. Respond and rework. Answer questions on your own blog. Replace one question. Add one question. Tag 8 people.

I’m tagging:

Oh I don't like to name names, you know that, and I am a bit subversive, so no names no pack drill, please feel free to play along if you want to.

Have a drink, you'll need it !

I had a very stressful 53 minutes on the phone with my mother today, she is cross with my Dad getting under her feet and this is officially day 4 of his retirement. The reason for the call is that my parents want to go and stay in my house in Turkey, they go for 2 weeks every May, no problem, except this time they want to go when I'll be going at the end of May, God alone knows why they would want to inflict my grumpy self and my grumpy weans on themselves when they could have the peace and quiet,it is beyond me. I say book your flights independently online, much cheaper.

They won't be able to do it themselves so I tell my mum I'll look around for flights for her and I'll sort it out, but she wants it doing now, so as we talk I go online and find flights going from Glasgow and I ask her if they're OK, she agrees so I start to book them, as I'm doing this she starts to get anxious. She's never booked flights before like this, she goes into the travel agent and they sort it all out for her, charge her a fortune for the privilege but that's what she's used to. She's worried about how she'll get her tickets because she won't be able to go into the travel agent to pick them up, she won't rest until she's got those tickets in her hand. I tell her it's a ticketless airline, that they'll email to confirm and you print it out and show the lady at check in. I try and reassure her I book my flights like this all the time and it's fine, they really do let you on the plane. She doesn't really trust me to do this, she thinks I'll do it wrong, she doesn't say so but I can feel it.

Now she's more worried, her voice has gone up an octave and I can feel the tension coming down the phone, I say I'll use my email address and I'll print it off and post it to her, she's still not happy, so whilst I'm still on the phone to her, I get the confirmation email and forward it to my dad. I was only there 2 weeks ago so he's not had time to delete his account or forget his password (I set him up a brand new email account every visit and he still manages not to get into yahoo) but he has surpassed himself and has an invalid password. Now my mum is yelling and she's panicking her pants off she won't be able to get on the plane.

Don't worry, says I, I'll open Mum up an email account and forward the confirmation to her, so I'm still on the phone and I open up my mum an email account and make her write down the email address and the password, at this point we had to have a wee wait as she wasn't wearing the right glasses and it took a while to find the reading glasses. Eventually, after a few false starts she gets into this brand new account and the stress levels are now at breaking point. I know she's thinking that it's easier to go into a travel agent but it's much more expensive too and most people can actually book things online, not my parents obviously, but most people.

My mother does nothing to the computer except dust it and my dad is enthusiastic about it but has no clue, as I've said before, he loves gadgets but he doesn't always fully understand how they work.

So I'm trying to explain to them how to print but there is no ink in the printer (get out ! why would that be straightforward ?) so my dad says he'll change the cartridge and ring me back.

40 minutes later my mum rings me, they have managed to print off 7 copies of their confirmation, yes that's right 7.

And she's worried because the confirmation has printed in black and white but the email confirmation had red on it, will that matter ???? I repress my inner smart arse (at some cost) from telling her that they won't let her on the plane unless it's the right colour because she will believe me and she might cry.

I know she will never let me book her flights again, she won't care how much extra it costs, the stress of doing it again might kill her.

Prague here I come

Your auntie is off on a wee jolliday. I know, I'm overgiddy myself with the excitement of going anywhere that isn't school or a supermarket. Myself and 3 other women in our book group fly out to Prague on Friday. Don't roll your eyes at the thought of a book group, what else are middle aged women to do ? I do believe some MAW go salsa dancing - flighty things !

So, we are staying in this gorgeous apartment and we will arrive Friday evening and leave Sunday evening.

If you've been to Prague before and you've got any top tips or recommendations that are suitable for middle aged women on tour let me know.

Rest assured, I will be on my best behaviour, these aren't people who know the real me, they get the diet version, I'm not sure they could cope with full fat auntie !!!

Back to School, that Monday morning feeling.

At the beginning of every school holiday I used to make myself a list of all the things I was going to achieve. I sat there like a happy wee scone with my Starbucks venti size coffee mug full, in my bed on the first moning and made myself THE LIST and I'd write "TO DO" and underline it and everything.

All the little jobs that pile up in termtime as I barely have time do do the mummying, teaching/prepping/marking, cleaning, household repairs and driving them to activities. You know, for me, living is a full time job. You're probably the same yourself.

All the things like optician's appointments (although 2 of my 3 children are supposed to wear glasses and I pay exorbitant amounts for designer frames, do I think they actually use them ? I suspect not), dental check ups, smear tests (just for me, don't be alarmed), cleaning the oven, sewing buttons on etc, replacing lost school kit, having shoes re heeled, passport photos, booking a holiday etc etc etc, to get the jist of this, you could probably look at your own list, I'm sure Imaverybusymum.com would have a generic one we could all use.

Sometimes I'd even start off with a few things I'd already done just so I could draw a very satisfying line all the way through them and then at night in bed I'd strike off all the things I'd achieved, you know the kind of stuff, achieved world peace (rationed kids to 2 hours computer time each without tears, tantrums or blows), found a cure for cancer (finally, Glory be To God in The Highest, got rid of Beautiful Baby Daughter's nits),cleaned the kitchen floor.

This holiday I didn't even bother with a list, I knew I had to clean the oven, I knew the kids all needed passport photos and application forms, I knew that my beloved gap grey cashmere boyfriend cardie still has a wee tiny rent at the seam, I knew I needed a smear test, I knew I had to do a powerpoint on the Musculo skeletal system for my A level group for lesson 1 and 2 today, I knew I needed a new scheme of work for every course I teach (A level, As level, yr 10 Btec and year 12 Btec, and finally nursery nurses) I knew the whole house needed cleaning and truth be told redecorating.

And now you know what I didn't manage to achieve.

The Beautiful Son says no

I've put up a picture of my very cool dude with his long hair as it won't be long before he has his annual haircut, yep, that's right, at the beginning of the school summer holidays he gets shorn like a sheep, none of us want him to, he's gorgeous with his long hair but his choice.


It has been a strange month chez auntiegwen. No one's relationships have been running smoothly and the tension and tears have been omnipresent. Feel very sorry for my poor boy living with 3 hormonal females !!

The Beautiful Son is very popular with the local young ladies, he's funny and kind and used to talking to girls. He has no girlfriend, he has no want of a girlfriend and even though he's asked out regularly he's just not interested yet. He is in his last year at middle school and there is a leavers prom, now this is a big deal for lots of kids. Would my son be interested ? That would be a big fat no, he's not going. Is my son being asked right, left and centre to accompany some very nice young girls ? That would be a yes.

So my son has to keep saying no to people and some of them have cried, some have texted him constantly and girl A's mates berated him for "talking to other girls" and making girl A cry ! His every movement is being watched via cyberspace and real life.

He came in the other day and said to his sisters and I "No wonder none of you girls can get a boyfriend, you're all bloody mental !"

What advice can I offer him ? None, it'll probably only get worse.

Strapped on a pair... twice

Yesterday I had not 1 but 2 arguments. I didn't think that was possible in a day, being the Queen of Not Saying How Upset I Feel. People can argue with me but I rarely find the words to retort. I have a million arguments written down, you can read them if you like, my written arguments are heartfelt and eloquent and more often than not tearstained. I am good at those.

Both of these arguments were with men I used to really care about.

Argument 1 - On the phone with Gordon about how upset our son was, if one of the beautiful children are upset, then I am upset, their well being is of paramount importance to me. Gordon doesn't like to think he's less than a perfect parent and sometimes needs reminding that our son will never say how unhappy his dad makes him to his dad, no prizes for guessing which parent TBS resembles emotionally. As this situation is ongoing and unlikely to change unless Gordon knows there is a problem I rang him and told him.

I felt Gordon wasn't really listening to what I said, he was just "He was absolutely fine at my house, if he was upset, I'd know" and my mind was screaming "No you fucking wouldn't, you don't know this boy at all, you don't have the first idea of what he's like"

so I told him

and I told him some more

and some more

and I left him with no doubt as to his behaviour and the disparity of the way he treats and deals with the younger 2 children (EBD has refrained from visiting his house)

and he was very cross with me. My reaction - too fucking bad, I should have let you have it years ago.

Now normally this would have left me tearful, anxious and unable to sleep.

No tears, no anxiety and then at bedtime, straight to sleep.



Argument 2 - I was awoken by a text message from the person I have just been in a relationship with. The message was about him hearing Sharleen singing "Should I stay or should I go " and it making him think of me. I took umbrage at this, waking me up to have a cheap pop at me, I tried really hard in that relationship, I really did. People who know and care about me have been telling me for months to walk away but I tried to hold it together until I just couldn't anymore. I appreciate it felt like the longest break up in history but I can assure you I tried my very best to make it work.

So instead of saying nothing as is my wont, I answered back and after arguing back and forth by text he apologized for waking me up and assured me there was nothing in his remark other than he heard her sing and thought of me.

Welcome to the new slightly improved version of me. I deserve to be happy and if you are doing something that is impinging on my happiness then I'm going to tell you. We can then work out a way to deal with this that we can both live with. Or you can leave my life.

You couldn't make it up...

I met a very interesting man this weekend, we talked, laughed and really connected. He asked me for my blog address as he wanted to read me. I didn't give him it. I was being on my very best behaviour and was trying to be the cool, witty, collected and sophisticated version of me that I can, on occasion, pull off. You know the one that you show to people you want to impress. The blog version of me tends to show me at my least glamorous self.

And as if to prove my point...

This morning I was greeted by this sight within my fridge. A Whittards of Chelsea carrier bag containing 2 tubs of Flora Light with a note stapled to it, reading " I am butter, Please love me xxx"

Welcome to the randomness that is my life, enjoy, smile and be grateful it's not yours !!

My Mother says no

I've just got back from The Mother Country, as I keep telling NB I have to get back regularly to top up the accent. We met up and went for a pizza last week and he told me my voice was wrong ! When he reads me, in his head, I sound like a Surrey housewife, I ask you? A Surrey housewife ! would you give yourself peace !!!!

Anyhoo, I've been hame tae my mammies for a feed and a spoiling. The Beautiful Parents are very well and my gadget mad Dad is counting the days till he retires on April 16th. My dad has counted down since Easter last year and has masses of ideas of what he would want to do with his time. My parents have always said they would move when my dad retires and he would very much like to live in a traditional red sandstone tenement flat, so would I actually, the rooms are enormous and if you get one with a view of a park, it's just heaven.

My mother says no, she doesn't want neighbours above, below or sharing a wall with her.

My dad would adore a trip to Hong Kong and to travel around the far East, he loves the culture and the art and literature and is itching to explore there.

My mother says no, 4 hours is her maximum flying time and she has no notion to go anywhere so foreign.

My dad would like to get a dog, he fancies a wee westie, he always had one before he met my mother.

My mother says no, she doesn't want the responsibility of one.

My dad would like to buy a new car, the one they have is fairly old.

My mother says no, she likes it, she's used to the cd controls !!! and there's nothing wrong with it.

The strange thing about this is, if you met my mum bossy and assertive are the last things you would call her, she's so keen to please and would do anything for you. I am stunned that she's being so dogmatic about this. It was a very surreal visit, they usually just rub along together, he works and buys gadgets and she gently moans about it. I am certain that the thought of them being together 24 hours a day is preying on both their minds, I'm sure they're both trying to mark out territory and I'd lay money on my dad finding himself a part time job by October.

Not 1 but 2

I read in The Telegraph that having a sister made you happier

So kind and generous to a fault Mummy that I am, I provided 2 of these bounteous gifts to my darling only son.

Does he appreciate the magnificence of the gesture ?

I think not.

As others see us

Lots of my lovely blog matey's have made it into the top 100 British Mummy Blogger awards,so take a bow Tim, Mob, NB and Working Mum, and lots more that I read but don't know (vitually) if I've forgotten to applaud any other blog matey, I apologize.

When looking at my google searches (what ?, I have no life, I don't watch telly and I need something to keep me occupied)) I thought that despite me knowing that my life is all about being a Mummy, maybe others don't actually see me as a Mummy type figure.

When I look at the Google searches that bring the unwary to me, I get an inkling as to why. They mainly seem to be about curse words and tell offs, Milf's and blow jobs.

I can't imagine why I didn't make the cut !!!!!

Recipe for a perfect weekend

You take a blonde and a brunette (don't bother clicking on the brunette link, for it is me, your auntie)

You start drinking at wine o'clock, you intersperse this with pizza, sneaky smokes and more wine till 3am.

You do talk about shoes and boys (pinched shamelessly from a text sent by my best matey boy The Edge asking how my head was, he knows me of old !)

You laugh and laugh and laugh about life and love.

You get up the next day and by some miraculous miracle, you have no hangover, Glory be to God in the highest and the sun is shining.

You go out for brunch and the blonde manages to get her favourite Eggs Benedict and the brunette manages to have a big fat stack of pancakes with maple syrup and the sun continues to shine.

You realise that life is good, friendship is brilliant and being happy with your lot is priceless.

Strange Questions I have been asked in the last week

I get asked questions all the time, you probably do yourself. A lot of mine start "Mummeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, where are my ... ?" or the plaintive "Can I have something to eat ?" or the omnipresent demands for cash for school trips, smart cards, sponsored silences etc etc etc.

I also get asked for advice, people asking me what to do next. But this week work has thrown up child abuse and domestic violence for me to deal with and truth be told, every time I close my eyes to go to sleep I see the faces of those who've confided in me, it's giving me insomnia and nightmares but feck knows that's nothing to what they're going through.

But as ever in the midst of all the mayhem, there have been a few humorous questions thrown my way.

Does my face look like it belongs to me ? - from my EBD. It did but she'd forgotten to put her lipgloss on

Can you be a Tory and dislike the Daily Mail ? - text from my ex's teenage son

Why is todays Google the very hungry caterpillar ? - text from IT God.

Is being 20 any good ? - a student, I don't know I'm 42, I've forgotten

If I get an A in my exam, will you buy BBD a hamster ? - another student who is also BBD's Girls Brigade Leader.

Will you tell my daughter to stop being on facebook till the early hours of the morning ? - a parent, okay will you tell mine ?

A Little Puzzle For me

I do spend most of my life in a bemused state, I'm not quite confused but puzzled is probably an adjective you could use to describe me on a daily basis.

Despite a fine pair of ovaries (which we all know are a locating device situated in the pelvis) I quite often find myself searching for my keys and increasingly often an umbrella, I keep buying umbrellas but I never seem to have 1 when I need it.

Forgetfullness is becoming a kicker too, I know that to avoid the poly bag Nazi's in Sainsbury's I have to take my own bags with me, do I remember even once in the 82 visits I make a week ? That would be no.

But this week's puzzle ?

My boobs have gotten bigger, a whole cup size, how the hell did that happen ?

ps I'm not putting boobs in the tag's, can you imagine what that'd do to my Google searches ? !

Things your mother says

Okay, how many of these did your mammy say to you ? And how many do you now say yourself ?

Would you give yourself peace !

I know I only have my self to blame what with frankly misguided tag lines of "anal sex" and mention of peloops and google sex searches but it's getting silly now. Somebody's going to be spending quite a lot of time on the naughty step and I can and will use my cross voice.

This morning before coffee, I got an email from an unknown person and it read

"You seem like a bit of a challenge, do you type one handedly ?"

Apologies again to Shirley's daughters and to Grandma in Cyprus, this blog is going to hell, it used to have a far more wholesome tone.

So tell me what you want, what you really really want

I got my first dirty email via my blog today. Someone calling himself Fit Boy sent me a photo of himself and a very cryptic message...

"You want my cock in you ?"

Strangely enough, no

A week in numbers

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How the hell did that happen ?

Seventeen years ago today, I began my real career, as a Mummy, it's the one I've enjoyed the most and the one in which my achievements mean the most.

One minute I was in the labour ward gazing into my newborn baby daughters eyes and the proud daddy was saying " I can't believe it was that quick and that easy" yes, he indeedily did, oh there's plenty more where that came from and then the next minute she was 17.

This is the 3rd birthday blog I have written for her and she remains a daily delight. She is as enthusiatic and distractable as when she was 3 and still claps her hands in glee when something good happens. One of my favourite memories is of her magic finger, she used to think her index finger on her right hand could do anything, in the car she would wave it to make the car go faster and we'd drive quicker and to make the rain stop and the sun come out and if her magic finger didn't work, she'd look at it thoughtfully and announce "it must've run out of batteries"

Just after I found out I was pregnant, Gordon and I were on a beach and we watched a beautiful little girl around 18 months old playing in the sand. She had dark curly hair peeking our from under a sun bonnet and we said, ooh, we want one just that and we got one, even more beautiful. We said we hoped to give her the best of everything and I hope as she grows up she realises that materially she may not have had the best of everything but emotionally she did.

She is my beautiful shining star, one of the main reasons I get up every morning and my heart, mo chridhe.

Product review, anyone ?

I've just started getting spam emails, I get a lot of very earnest Africans needing my assistance on withdrawing their money from their bank via my bank, I apparently am the next of kin of a respected businessman who died in a plane crash in Burkina Faso, funny that the respected businessman I am next of kin to was alive and well this very morning and I know my memory is not what it was but if I've slipped up and gone and gotten married again I can think of 2 men who are going to be quite cross with me.

I have also been offered quite a lot of viagra but this very day I've just been offered a product review for my blog, ooh thinks the auntie, wouldn't that be gas if it was shoes or lipgloss? I could give up teaching and tippy tappy type my way through the merits of double strapped Mary-Janes against the original single strapped or happily spend hours snogging people to see if the long last lipgloss is totally kissproof.

Unfortunately, I am unable to take up this fantastic free offer due to me not having the correct equipment but any of my fellow bloggers who have and would like to review this new product please click here

Make sure you let Mr Omar Long, the company owner know that auntiegwen sent you.

Things I Never Thought I'd Say

In a lesson on the anatomy and physiology of the digestive system

AG - in a questioning tone " Function of the anus ?"

Year 13 student trying hard to contain laughter "bum sex ?"

AG - "For the purposes of passing your A level, sexual pleasure would not be a function of the anus. You wouldn't get a mark for that. Biologically speaking, it is a one way street.

As others see you

Now I'm the first to admit that as a teenager my dress sense verged on the adventurous, my mammy was mortified on a daily basis by the cut of my jib. But now, grown up (stop laughing or you'll go on the naughty step) teachery auntiegwen looks like a grown up teacher at her work. I do so.

We have a new teacher covering a maternity leave at our school. I cannot see this man without dissolving into snorts and peals of laughter, I mean the real deal, I've had 3 children and my pelvic floor's not what it was type of laughter. I am not the only member of staff to feel this way, you can always tell when he's entered the staff room just by the suppressed laughter.He looks like he got dressed in the dark. I am no longer allowed to go to the daily staff briefings because I cannot control myself and make a holy show of our department.

I so wish I could take a photo but I will try and make do with words.

He is of indeterminate age, could be anywhere from mid 30's to 40's

Around 5 feet 7

Black hair, none on top, just around the edges, it's slicked with brylcream or some such unguent, it's very shiny.

He is like an Easter egg with legs, that shape.

But it's the clothes, I feel so mean laughing but Holy Mary Mother of God, I've never seen the cut of anything like it, but in our school ? Where American tan tights and Farah slacks are sent to die.

Every day he wears and I mean every day (we all look out for him and email each other when we've got his daily dress report)
tight black trousers that end 2 inches above his ankle
a belt that says "God" on the buckle
Cuban heeled boots at least 2 or 3 inches high
but the piece de resistance, are you ready ? can you take it ?

Satin shirts, yep, you read right, they are satin with quite a full bell effect sleeve and he has a powerful number of them, I have spotted lilac, red, tangerine, mustard yellow and a electric BLUE one, yep it wasn't blue it was BLUE. When he does playground duty and it's cold he tops off this ensemble with a duffel coat.

And round the school he goes, not a bother on him,like a refugee from Strictly Come Dancing, God love him. I kind of expect him to start doing a Paso Doble in the corridor, or to click his heels together and swish his duffel coat like a matadors cape. I'm sure he's worth getting to know, it takes a certain strength of character to dress so bizarrely and when I can stop laughing I'm going to see if he wants to be friends.