Cheapskate Tuesday

Better late than not at all!

Frog has been sick - and by sick I don't mean she has a sniffly cold that makes her nose run - I mean she came down literally overnight with the cold from Hades. She started getting clingy in the morning on Sunday, and by the afternoon she sounded like a seal, and looked like a washed out rag.

Cough medicine is expensive. It is also not okay to give to under-twos. In fact I would be wary of giving it to an under-five unless my doctor expressly told me to.

Frog's bark was scary, and obviously painful so I gave her some Panadol and put her to bed. Then when she was asleep and wouldn't play with it.... I placed a cut onion on her bedside table. Next day, she was already starting to clear the yukkies, and has not been heard barking since. It generally clears up chesty coughs within a night or two, which has saved me taking many sick days from work in the past.

Don't ask me why it works, I can't tell you, and you would probably just think I was a crazy hippy if I could. 

The miserable has not left her though, so we went to the doc today so she could scream at him, and he prescribed some anti biotics to piss off this bug that has outstayed it's welcome.

Never mind - we still escaped for a little while before I was dragged back to be tortured by the demands of a sick toddler who just will not lie down and REST, but instead insists on Mummy reading Where Is The Green Sheep and I Know A Rhino until mum is repeating them in her sleep.

*SIGH*

But hang on? ESCAPED?? Yes indeed - WonderMan and I went to bed on Friday night gloomy and uninspired by what the coming days, weeks and months held for us. I was trying to get into a book that apparently was "A laugh a minute" and "Uproariously funny" and was only funny if you considered some moron had actually paid this mentally deficient author for the drivel contained in it's pages. And then WonderMan uttered these dangerous words....

"Why don't we go away this weekend?"

"Because I still have some braincells, even after reading this book, and I think that would be a stupid idea considering the state of our finances and Tiger's current tween angst"

"But I've been saving my mowing money, and plus we quit smoking so there's actually money in the bank account, and it's depressing being here so why don't we just go somewhere else?"


"Fine.... Find somewhere less than 200kms away, somewhere to stay and something to do and I'll think about it."

So WonderMan came up with a trip to the beach (just to let you know I am so ocean challenged I have to go 100kms MINIMUM to see the sea... this is truly the worst part of my existence). We packed the Astra - which a mensa spatial exercise in itself - and set off. 

Now I'm all for sharing the driving, and I'm probably a bit of a driver's seat hog if there is any chance I may be allowed to try out my racing style on some mean curves.... but I was looking forward to a retro housewife style "Father driving the family" weekend. Until we realised that if WonderMan drove the only way Tiger would fit would be by amputating both her legs. 

*Damn...*


We can't afford those mini wee thingos so we played I Spy... cultimating in uncontrollable giggles after WonderMan couldn't guess "bush" after fifteen minutes...


We hit our chosen beachside town and then we found out something really shocking. Everything was expensive. A teeny tiny cabin at the local caravan park set us back half our weekly shopping budget. A light lunch from the bakery cost us $20. That's 3 pies, one baby sausage roll and a drink to share. OUCH

We started to wonder if the world had gone completely mad. But after a whole weekend of squinting at the prices at local cafes and shops, we realised it's not them - IT'S US.

We have not eaten out, gone out with the family, or even had a proper holiday, for over two years. And we have been on an increasingly tighter budget every month for all that time. WE HAVE BECOME COMPLETE CHEAPSKATES. We stand like old men in tweed hats peering over the tops of our glasses and exclaiming "Highway robbery! You won't get away with this young'un!"

But we still had a great time, especially walking on the beach in the evening with a glass of wine in hand and the kids shrieking about how cold the waves were on their toes.

We got away for less than $300. Which is a HUGE amount of money for us, but pocket change for the everyday middle class Aussie. Here's how we did it:

• We drove the smallest, most economical car, squishy but cheap!
• We took our own linen and bedding which saved on the price of the cabin.
• We took all our own food and snacks. 
• We took a bag of games, and played cards around the table in our cabin.

We also gave Tiger free reign in the $2 shop when we arrived. We gave her $10 each to spend on her and Frog to keep them busy during our stay. She came out with a bucket and spade each, toy cars, chalk to decorate all the pavements outside our cabin, pencils, paper, balls and little dolls. In fact she did such a great job I think I'll let her do my Christmas shopping from now on!

Saturday we had the most fun we have had in years. We grabbed a local bottle of white wine and took the kiddos for an evening play on the beach. Frog and Tiger ran circles around us, with their jeans rolled up, shrieking with laughter at every touch of the freezing waves on their little toes. We lined up our footprints in the sand and giggled uncontrollably as Frog tore past doing her best impression of a 2-stroke motorbike "nyeeeeeenn nyeeeeen nyeeeeeeeeeeeeen". A warm shower and into their bunk beds (both girls thought this was one of the coolest bits of the whole trip - it doesn't have to be expensive to be great!) and WonderMan and I could watch the sunset over the water. 

Sunday we drove up the coast to the next town on the bay, had morning tea on the foreshore while the kids played in the playground. And on the slow drive home we stopped at a local produce farm and tasted some of the greatest relish ever (I even bought a jar for me and one for my mum) while drinking gorgeous coffees and letting the kids discover the free range chooks cruising around the gardens. 

It was heaven.  For very little outlay we have started to reclaim our family, our relationship and our sanity. I think we might do it more often.  
 

Help! I'm lost!

Oh yes.... very definitely lost in my own backyard....

Which means it's time for another clutter busting week. Where does this stuff come from? Why do I seem to throw out more stuff than I actually have possessions?  I seriously need to have my clutter neutered. It keeps breeding and I really can't afford to keep feeding it my sanity... there is so little of that left.

So I have become an avid fan (read STALKER) of the lovely Katrina at The Organised Housewife . Katrina is my idol. I salute her for the following reasons:

• She makes it sound simple, which means I will attempt it, because I shudder at anything more complicated than "Where Is The Green Sheep" at the moment
• Her lists are great for printing and ticking with my favourite purple pen, which makes me happy, so I run around doing all the things on the list just so I can play ticksies
• She doesn't tell you off if you miss something, or put it off until tomorrow because you just can't find your "giveashit" gene today, she just keeps on cheerily offering you little ideas and routines and you can't help smiling while you dust 

• She makes me feel like I am achieving something every day. And that's a big thing in my life at the moment, when I feel like all I am achieving is finding new and interesting ways to have a nervous breakdown

 She's changing my life, one task at a time. My house it tidier, my mind is clearer, and there's more room on the sideboard for my G &T.

It also means that WonderMan has to smarten up his act, or all his possessions will be in the Friday box and he will be going to work without his wallet, keys or underpants for a week. 


WonderMan is the king of all procrastinators... he has turned procrastination into an artform, and my blood pressure chart into something resembling a side view of the Himalayas...

Pre-Katrina when he came home from work he would turn 1/2 an hour of wind down into an all nighter of getting in my way, ignoring my continuous screams for help to remove the toddler from under my feet while I cooked dinner, and always managing to not be there when I needed something done. And then when I was standing in the kitchen crying amongst the nuclear warzone that was supposed to be my home he would ask "What do you want me to help you with?" at which point I would howl like an injured animal and lock myself in the bedroom.


Since I have started following these routines (and with a little kick in the butt from his counsellor) he is actually trying. Maybe it's because I'm getting more achieved, and he likes our house looking normal for once. Maybe it's because at the end of the day when he comes home I can give him my list of tasks and ask him to complete two of the things I haven't ticked yet. Maybe it's because I have threatened to razor off his "wobbly bits" and serve them to his mother, who I believe is responsible for his housework ineptitude. Maybe he realises that I think he's sexy when he vacuums.....

Whatever the reason, My daily pilgramige to all things "Organised" is keeping my head on my shoulders, and my hand from the valium bottle.


All Hail Katrina

TGIF

That says it all really...

Tiger has suprised me (which I should be used to by now) during a shopping trip yesterday. It was a student free day, Frog was happily playing with her friends at daycare, so Tiger and I took a girl's day out and went to the next town (slightly less Hicksville than where we live) so that we could soak up some urban delights - Woolworths and Target.

WOW

Now, to give you an idea of why I was a little hesitant, the last time I took Tiger to Woolworths I had a breakdown because of her horrendous behaviour and tantrums over - wait for it - The New School Pencil Case.

I did what I have always done and gave her a choice between two styles, and said she could pick whichever design she wanted. She didn't like those and wanted a big one (not only do I know the teachers hate them because they take up vital desk space, they are EXPENSIVE and I can't afford them). Cue major sulk, tantrum, *I hate you screaming* etc etc and I finally cracked after sticking to my guns for half an hour. WonderMan had to escort me out of the shop after an assistant asked if she could do anything for me and I replied "Find me a new family or bury me out the back" in hysterical tones....

And the one we finally came home with is now broken. So we need a new one...

This was making me a little nervous. Not only was I worried about tantrums, I was on my own. No one to hold my hand and pass me some tissues when I melted from sheer frustration.

And I was pissed off because I spent $10 on a pencil case (and a lot more on counselling since...) and it didn't even last ten flipping weeks!

So I saved Woolworths until last, and yes, we did have some grumps... but once she realised people were looking at her she was a lot quieter and stopped crying...

It was the rest of the day that I was surprised with. We drove and played I spy, we listened to her new CD, and she was happy. 

Tiger is never happy. Going anywhere as a family requires the patience of a saint. I was suspicious. 

We had morning tea and she chatted away happily, we shopped for clothes and things we needed, we found a present for the birthday party that's on tonight, we did the grocery shopping. All the time she wasn't silly, rude, grumpy or miserable. I was wondering if she was a changeling - or if the fairies had brought back the girl I raised and took away the changeling I have been living with for the last year....

I'm still not sure what's going on....

But I'm loving it while it lasts. This is the beautiful, pleasant girl I raised. I sat down over cuppas with WonderMan last night and we discussed it and wondered what had happened, but decided "Hey, this is what we wanted all this time... let's go with it!" 

So I gave up caring why and I'm happy.

Then Frog decided she liked her brand new boots so much, it was essential she wore them to bed with her pyjamas.

*SIGH*

At least it makes a nice change from the everyday, when she flatly refuses to wear clothes....

 

Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows....

Frog is in love...

She (finally after quite a long wait) has met her brand new cousin, who was born in rather a hurry and a bit premature. 

Yesterday little Baby came home to my mother's house, and I took the family to see her.

Not only did I have to fight my mother, my sister (Baby's mother) and my father for a cuddle. I had to fight WonderMan and the kids! 

SULKING - for good reason. I wasn't allowed to run away and hide and scream "No, she's mine bugger off!" when I had my children. And quite frankly by the time I got home I was more than happy to hand them off for a round of cuddles while I had a hot chocolate and sat on a sofa that did not feel like it was made of bricks. 

I also have no other siblings to produce babies for me to cuddle AND HAND BACK, and WonderMan's neices and nephews are bigger than Frog and therefor not interesting at all, cuddle-wise.

So this was a first for me. My niece. My one and only. And I can't remeber what she looks like because I wasn't allowed to hold her long enough to see.

First it was WonderMan, who is over 6 feet tall and pushed me out of the way like we were in a rugby scrum. He then proceeded to hold Baby out of arm's reach of all of us shorties.

Then we let Tiger sit on the couch and hold Baby. She's a pro at this after spending hours on the couch cuddled up to Frog and insisting "No Mummy, we're fine" for the first few weeks.

During all of this Frog had been loudly making her presence felt and had been given many chances to kiss and gaze at Baby. But it wasn't enough.

She had to hold Baby.

So I sat down with Frog on my lap to make sure poor Baby wouldn't get the treatment much loved Dolly does (held upside down by the feet). We cuddled, and Frog fell in love. 
 
I'm sure the sun could not be brighter than her little face at that moment. She was so astounded she couldn't say anything - she just giggled and gazed at Baby, every now and then doing a tiny wriggle because she had to let the excitement out somehow.

Then we had to go home.....

It is now around 48 hours since and all I have heard for those hours is "Baby MINE! Baby MIIIIINNNNEEEE! Cuddle BABY! BABY MINE!"

Sheesh.....  

Cheapskate Tuesday

An exercise in extreme budgeting
 (like extreme sports, but without the trophies...)


We are poor. Not "on a budget", "watching our spending", or "feeling the 0.25% interest rate rise a little". If we run out of milk before payday we have to decide if we want to auction a body part or go without.


It doesn't help that WonderMan gets paid fortnightly and you just CANNOT cover all the things that may crop up in those fourteen days, without having to take it from somewhere else.


Hence why I am desperately searching for a job - but I will not regale you with my "PHD in cover letter creation" (I'm onto around about the 247th). 


I'm likely to be found randomly swearing at tv's, magazines, newspapers and radios whenever the subject of budgeting comes up. 

Before having Frog, WonderMan and I were starting to plan and research our wedding - so I bought a book called "How To Create the Wedding of Your Dreams on a Budget" or something equally gag-inducing. This has taught me rule No 1 of extreme budgeting - Always read page one before spending $8.50 on a book that thinks a cheapskate wedding costs $25,000...

I also can't watch lifestyle shows that present "DIY projects that look fab and save you money", because they most likely show a viewer in a house that cost upwards of half a million, remaking a perfectly good antique chair (because we ALL own one of those...) into what looks like an antique chair that has been thrown into the Nile to be sat on by hippos and chewed up by crocodiles, for the SMALL price of $2,000. Yeah.... that's decorating on a budget... mhmmm.... now just find me a jar so I can put 50 cents in a week, so by the time my children move out of home I will be able to afford a new tv.

So I'm starting Cheapskate Tuesday. Here I will post ideas to get away with spending almost nothing on presents, entertainment, homemaking and meals, while making it look *FABULOUS* 

It works, and it has kept me sane - most people I know who are on a serious budget eat the same boring food every night, feel bad giving cheap presents, and give up all the other things you just can't afford and it gets you down. I was like that, and it was the most depressed I have ever been in my entire life. 

Now I can throw dinner for our close friends and they all rave about my cooking. But it doesn't add more than $10 to my weekly shopping, because if it does I have to give up something else. 

So here's today's recipe - which costs so little but can feed 4 adults.

Chicken Noodle Salad

200g 2 minute noodles

1/2 cooked bbq chicken, shredded
1 lebanese cucumber (cut into matchsticks)
1/2 small red capsicum (cut into matchsticks)
1 small carrot (cut into matchsticks.... are you sensing a theme here?)
1 1/2 Tablespoons of kecap manis (sweet soy sauce)

Cook noodles. Drain. Mix with other ingredients.

So there you go. Cheap, YUMMY and super fast.

I make this for picnics, and those really hot days when I just couldn't be stuffed. I usually buy a whole cooked chicken (because it works out cheaper) and keep the remaining shredded meat in the fridge for sandwiches, so it adds a bit of variety to the "vegemite and cheese" parade.

I had a minor *freak* this morning when I discovered Frog and Tiger had been invited to a friends birthday party on Friday (note to self... if you are going to write things in your diary you should CHECK IT more than once a fortnight...)


My budget for this week was out of whack last Tuesday so I'm going to have to pull out my creative best for this one. My #1 saving? Wrapping paper. (And no, I don't mean being all wondermum and getting hold of butchers paper which we stencil with the latest art deco designs.... because my kids AND my butcher would look at me funny) 

My local supermarket uses paper bags. And because I'm a stressed out mum looking for my next caffiene hit and trying not to forget to put my pants on or leave the baby in the supermarket... I forget my green bags on a regular basis and end up paying 5c or so to take a paper one home. So I have bags of bags sitting in my house.

I gave Frog and Tiger a bag each (well I gave Frog several because she's not even two and doesn't have the longest attention span yet...) along with crayons, stickers, textas, glue and random bits of stuff like foil, patty pans and wool - then I let them go. Present wrapping 1-0-1.

Have a go - kids can create. And it's so much more fun than making sure you have the right coloured bow to go with your organic free trade bamboo wrapping paper that costs more than it would to save a panda. 

Rainy days and biscuit dough...

It's raining today...

And I've been in the kitchen baking Anzac biscuits, with Frog helping. As soon as I said the word "bikkies" she wanted one.... so I thought I would teach her a little lesson in patience and get her to help me bake.

Silly mummy....

So we pulled up a kitchen chair and she climbed up to help mummy. Happily mixing the flour, sugar, coconut and oats while I melted the butter and golden syrup. In fact... she didn't really make a mess, which suprised me after some of the afternoons I spent with Tiger at this age, vacuuming the benches, floor and walls that would end up covered in flour!

We eventually got the mixture together and I turned away to get my baking trays.... which is when WonderMan started giggling....

Frog has discovered the joys of biscuit dough. Apparently she was watching me sideways and grinning at her daddy while eating it off the spoon she was supposed to be mixing with. Yet every time I turned back she was happily mixing the dough!

She's a crafty little kid.... 

WonderMan is at home today due to a self inflicted injury. We will be heading up to the hospital today to see if he has managed to fracture any of the small bones in his hand. His fingers are lovely shades of purple and blue, and he's feeling pretty sorry for himself!

I don't have much sympathy because he shouldn't be a git, but....

At least he has finally admitted there's a problem, and he needs help. A man can only hold in so much grief before things start to go wrong.... and I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. So maybe a fractured hand is a good thing if it kicks his butt before he goes any further downhill.

Tiger spent two hours this morning not getting ready for school. But instead of my usual agonised bawling because my child just won't do what she is told, I just let her do her thing. And then told her she had to drop everything and be at school in two minutes. She wasn't a happy camper, and neither was I but at least I've stopped myself dropping dead of a stress induced heart attack....

And it's still raining...

So it looks like hot chocolates and a trip to the library to borrow some more documentaries (am I the only one who would prefer to watch David Attenborough or a Poirot episode more than any blockbuster movie ever made?)

And plenty more baking, because nothing says "I'm home" more than a warm kitchen on a rainy day...

Right now what we all need is "home", where there is something safe to hold onto... while we try and get this family back to living life, instead of just making it through.

Bullying never ends....

Once someone is bullied they are bullied for life...

So, I finally got myself reasonably ready and took myself off to my high school reuinion.  But it was amazing I went at all because the minute I knew I had to get ready I felt sick, depressed and wanted to cry my eyes out. In fact I cried most of the time I was getting ready right up until the time I got in the car.

I was bullied. Mercilessly tortured throughout my school life for no reason other than small town idiocy, and the passing on of a bullying tradition from parent to children. Every morning of my high school life was a decision in whether I went to school or hung myself. I am not kidding you.

And the thought of being with these people - the ones who did that to me, the ones who never stood up for me, and all the people who have been looking down at me for all these years - that thought alone sent me right back to that decision again. 

But I had organised to go with a friend, and make up a foursome with WonderMan and his best friend. It was like having a safety harness. And I was prepared to suck it up and see what happened and not let it get me down. 

And I had fun. Plenty of it... for a while....

The worst of the torturers weren't there. So I was able to talk to people I hadn't seen for ages and enjoy their company. I got to speak to friends I hadn't seen for 11 years. It was great, but I still didn't feel right.

And no, it wasn't WonderMan getting drunk and making a scene that did it, although that did put quite a dampner on my night.

It was the waiting - waiting for someone to laugh at me. Waiting for the all too familiar feeling of agony that I suffered all my school life. The nastiness, the jokes, the snubbing, the torture. 

Because bullying never leaves you. When you bully someone you create something that lasts for life.

And even though I'm a day late. I want to add my story to the many we have heard for National Anti-Bullying Day. Because I don't want a "day" to recognise people like me. I want bullying to be in everyone's minds every single day, because it affects the victims every single day of their lives. 

I have been the victim of domestic violence, workplace bullying, and suffered many other forms of abuse from people who i thought were my friends. Why? Because I was bullied. This is not a cop out, it's a fact. I have no sense of self worth, because I have spent my entire life being made to think I was not worth the air that I breathed.

And no one ever did anything to stop it.

Every time I have to listen to another spiel from the school I attended about their strong anti-bullying stance I want to scream "HYPOCRITES" at the top of my lungs. Teachers didn't want to know about it, there was never any help, if you told you were a tattle tale, and I remember well the phrase "You are old enough to sort it out between yourselves". It's still the same, they just have a fancy "anti-bully" sticker on the sign out the front. And lots of pretty looking policies that are nothing short of BS.
 
Part of it is the fact that bullying between girls has no physical appearance. It is all sick and twisted mind games. All the bully has to do is deny it and suddenly there's no bullying. And then it gets worse, because you told.

And the bullies get worse. They get away with it for years, often spurred on by their arrogant, bullying parents, and their misplaced sense of superiority.

They become bosses who bully because you are making your way up through your own hard work, and they pushed their way to the top.


They become partners who control, and hurt you while making you believe you deserve it.

They become the people in our lives who are so power hungry they don't care who they have to trample to get what they want. And then they trample on the people who helped them get there.


They are everywhere, and their ranks are growing daily. Children are being bullied in DAYCARE. They can't even have a happy and safe start to their childhood. 


Stand up and be counted. Stop the bullies now. And if your child is a bully, ACCEPT IT. DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. DON'T PRETEND IT'S NOT THERE. Because one day that child will be the reason another child is hanging from their bedroom ceiling. Can you live with that?

Saturday Sillies

Some random moments of my daily life to give you an introduction to the "Mob"

Frog has become a toddler in full flight, and days with her are starting to follow a familiar program - any question I ask is "No." Any movement I make is "NO." She has even started to shout "NOOOO!" in her sleep! I get through my days by imagining  all her answers are "Yes oh darling Mummy, of course I will do exactly as you wish" and dreaming of a very large and very pink cocktail...

We have also discovered a lapse in our careful watching of "language a toddler can learn", because every time she hears someone's dog bark, or a bird tweet, or a loud car she yells "SHUT UP DOG/BIRD/CAR" at the top of her lungs
 
EMBARRASSING

At the other end of the scale, Tiger responds to me in the politest of tones "Of course I will clean my room Mum, I love you Mum" and means "No! Screw you"

SIGH 

WonderMan is in a huff because I didn't label him "Captain Underpants" which he would have liked better apparently.... 

That pink cocktail is starting to look really good....

I have been cleaning my house all week but I can't tell where. I have to take my new jeans up the required four inches so I can see my feet (see The Saga of the Spanx Panties) http://sanityorbust.blogspot.com/2011/03/saga-of-spanx-panties.html

I have been trimmed, coloured, waxed and plucked.... and I have to get the remaining hair (the bit on my head) to do what the hairdresser cut it to do..... which generally means burning myself with my straightener, dropping the blowdryer on my toe, and using the wrong toothbrush by mistake because I'm crying so hard I can't see what colour it is.....

And to top it all off it's my 10 year high school reunion tonight. Do I look excited? No. Not at all. In fact I'm wondering if I can wear sunnies throughout the entire night and pretend I only speak Russian...

The Saga of the Spanx Panties

I have finally caved and bought my first pair of Spanx...


For me, this was a big step on the road to "OLD" and I was hoping it wouldn't happen to me so far away from thirty (which isn't as far away as I would like come to think of it...)

Here's how it went...


Last year I turned on my Facebook to discover an invitation to my 10 YEAR high school reunion. I immediately felt "OLD". So I ummed and ahhd about going and finally WonderMan said "Why not?" and replied for us before I could change my mind. Cue major scramble to get my sagging mummy butt into some sort of shape. Then Christmas arrived, and the New Year, and just as I was starting to actually do something and thought maybe I wasn't quite so saggy... I came down with Ross River (they think...)


So I toddle off to my doctor who informs me I need to quit smoking, lose 7 or more kilos, and I'm not allowed to exercise because it will inflame my already screaming muscles! Explain to me how not exercising and losing weight go together?


Well - I've quit smoking (WIN!) And I have made sure my diet is healthy (mostly WIN!) And I have lost some weight (DOUBLE WIN!!) 


HOWEVER...


When I lost weight I went down a pants size. Super excited and happy. So I bought a new pair of jeans. This is where it went downhill. 

I'm used to the fact that I have to take my pants up at least four inches because I am "a bit short one end" as WonderMan puts it. I'm used to the fact that all my jeans require a belt because to go out at the hips far enough they don't come back in at the waist where they need to. (All hail Just Jeans new Fit Print.... I think I may drool...)


My problem is suddenly I have the muffin top from HELL. Cue horrified sobbing and hurling anything in my closet that drew attention to the muffin. And I'm not long legged enough to wear a pair of high waist flared jeans(to hold in the top), oh no.... they just make me look like an out of work circus clown.

There was no way in this earth I was arriving at my reunion in a pair of skinnies and a muffin top!

So I went to town and bought myself a pair of Spanx. And thus confirmed that I am completely "OLD" and "PAST IT". 

And since then, almost every woman I know, old and young, pre baby and post baby, has admitted they use spanx all the time.

So maybe I'm not so past it after all.... but I still sob every morning when I get up and can't do a single stomach crunch to help tone up this pasty bit of pastry.

 

Sanity or Bust.... do you think I'll make it?

Well here goes.... I've finally created my own little corner of cyberspace.....

In between running around in circles repeating "I'm a blogger! COOL!", and wringing my hands wondering what the hell I have got myself into; I should probably introduce myself.

I'm currently a work at home mum with my own little business, but desperately looking for work so we don't end up sleeping in my Astra. 

I'm mum to two gorgeous girls, who will hereafter be referred to as "Tiger" (Miss 9, at her own insistence) and "Frog" (Miss 20 months). I also have a partner who will be referred to as "WonderMan" to generally make him feel great. 

I've lost "me" (again....), my relationship balance is so far off centre it's fallen over, and we are so poor running out of milk mid week is a major budget issue! 

I'm here, posting odd comments on your screens, to see if I am really the only one who feels my sanity has been taken away and tortured ( I feel that way a LOT), and if I am ever likely to get it back. Right now sanity is at the edge of the known universe and accelerating.....