16th June - The first day of the diary of the suburban mama

Well, here it is, you've had the intro, now lets get down and dirty with it. Let's proverbially put on our marigolds, roll up our paisley encrusted sleeves and get stuck into the soapy water that is my life.

It's only 8:30 in the morning, and already I am completely shattered. Not that it was a bad night's sleep, D only woke the once (yes, yes, I know, he's 9 months old, he really should be sleeping through, believe me, I've heard it all before. But he's NOT, ok?) but that was at the annoyingly inconvenient time of 4 in the morning, which made getting up at 7 somehow harder.

I'd had a horrid realisation at 4 in the morning, in the dark of our room, whilst D was having a sleepy feed, that the plasterer was coming round next week to plaster the walls and ceiling of our bedrooms. Why was this a horrid realisation? You'd think I'd be excited to be rid of the woodchip and finally stripping the ceilings of the god-awful polystrene tiles (why did anyone think polystyrene tiles would be a good idea for ceilings anyway??) .

And indeed I was, but the sudden horrid realisation was that a) I'd very foolishly and somewhat cockily told the plasterer that I would strip the woodchip for him, to save a bit of money and b) at some point we had to move the furniture out, which involved moving a very large double wardrobe, a huge chest of drawers and an enormous king sized bed. The moving of it was going to be tricky enough, as to where we were actually going to put it, and where we were going to bloody sleep while it was moved, well, that was just a complete puzzler.

Stressful thoughts to be having at 4 in the morning.

Hence the chisel is positioned, primed and ready, sitting on the radiator in our bedroom, to kick some serious woodchip butt when D goes down for his morning nap later on. Brilliant. I just never get a chance to sit down these days.

By the way, I like to think of myself as a useful suburban mama as well as a moaning one, so here is a brilliant little recipe for baby breakfast, specially custom designed for a stressful mama on the go:

Porridge cakes.

Get a bowl.

Add a layer of porridge oats to the bottom.

Pour a little bit of milk in, just until the porridge is submerged.

Blast it for all its worth in the microwave, for about thirty-forty secs.

Chuck in the fridge to set.

Peel out of the bowl and deliver to the open and expectant mouth of your offspring.

You can also add fruit if you are feeling lashings of guilt about their diet, as I do on a frequent basis.

Oh, D is bored of his loud electronic toys now. I will return later...