Annual review

Some celestial prankster is playing with the fast forward button as yet another year has skipped past with not the blink of an overtired eye. 'Tis the week of the day of my birth once more, another digit to the tally, another wrinkle on the forehead. But this time around I'm feeling older and wiser in a good way - huzzah! The challenge of life on a lemonade purse has turned into just that, not a problem, or a pain (okay sometimes a pain when I see something delectable in a shop window) but a good heartening challenge to met with a frank stare direct to the eyeball. I'm enjoying all this creative practicality; well who knew? My inner lush cowers in submission as I type.

But it isn't just me getting older (well duh!) toddler boy has morphed with a kick and a yell into my wee boy; proper cheeky mouthed rough and tumble boyhood is in full swing. As for baby girl, ah my last little fledgling has bum shuffled up the developmental ladder to official toddler status. So this year when it comes to birthday eve I might just get my indulgent bath as both wee boy and toddler girl are sleeping through (cranky pants illness induced insomnia aside) without a murmur. Such is progress.

Life is a but a dream...

And me and big tall hubby (grammar my dear, grammar) have a night on the town to look forward to; nothing too fancy mind! Tickets are already in the bag for a gig (sadly not guest list, ah those days are truly behind me) and with babysitters lined up (friends are such wonderful beings) for an early start we'll even manage dinner beforehand. Blimey O Riley I must be getting older as the prospect of dinner is just as exciting as a gig - the horror! This crazy past year we've come head to head with the unbelievable havoc that two small children can wreak on life as we know it; yet one fantastic fact as emerged; we love each other's company and relish the opportunities to indulge in it even after sleepless nights, todler tantrums and almost two decades of togetherness. That is no bad thing, no sirree bob.

So bring on the birthday; the celebrations; the extra year on the tally and the enticing promise of another year managing this lemonade purse.

A liitle off the middle

If it isn't complicated enough trying to keep two small ones and big tall hubby well fed and chirpy without bringing down the wrath of Cameron and Co. on the state of our finances we've added a little extra challenge. Keeps things fresh doesn't it? And what is this challenge? To cook while doing the downward dog? Nope. Shopping only while wearing fluffy slipper booties and a smile? Nah. Although I do love my slipper booties and see no shame in sharing them with the world. See...

Cosy winter tootsie warmers

This is something we never ever do. Ever.

Shh and I'll whisper it...diet. Well I say diet, it is more of a cutting down exercise, trimming off the fat as it were. That dreaded phrase 'portion control' is coming into my kitchen on hushed feet. What torture is this? Actually portion control is fab, saves a fortune so long as we don't snackeroo. So far so good. No, it isn't a diet. Sensible eating fits the bill nicely. If you call it a diet all you want to do is eat. Munch, crunch, chew and nibble. So it is most definitely not a diet. The D word is banned henceforth.

Now you'd think eating less would cost less but not so. 'Tis probably why only the rich and famous can afford to be thin as age advances along with the waistline. This being sensible lark takes time and effort and its toll on the coffers. Wee ones need their food and their fat. Big ones need to reign it all in while they still have the chance. So we're juggling to avoid the jiggling. Thank heavens for booze I say! Cutting down on the nightly medicinal vino (the balm of most mothers post bed time) helps boost the purchase of 'healthier options'. I'm amazed anyone can afford to be veggie, it tots up.

Let's give it a few weeks and see how it goes, once I find a recipe that actually tastes as good as a full fat version then I'll whip it up here in a flash. Hope it isn't a long wait!