Having all four of my children and future son in law under one roof this week, I feel I can relate to the Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe. Apart from the ‘whipping them all soundly’ part that is (although I’m recurrently tempted 😁) 

My sleep is also disturbed.  Something which, I increasingly find difficult to cope with.  Sleep is precious.  Extremely precious.  I cannot stress this enough unless I put it in a Bold Italics ok. 

S L E E P   I S    P R E C I O U S 

Anyone out there, who’s feeling kind/drunk enough to fund me an extension on my property please contact me by DM and a great many thanks in advance.  (We have already converted the garage so in hindsight, perhaps just a whole new house would do.  Or a barn.  No one closes doors here anyway so I’d never know the difference….)

Something of this magnitude would suffice

I used to be a fairly deep sleeper but more recently, and unexplainedly, not so much.  Every creak in the floorboard, every time the boiler fires up, my daughters squeaky bed frame, I hear it.  All.  Then there’s the landing light which get flicked on and off during my sons’ habitual bathroom visits with their genetically inherited* weak bladders (their father*). As a child, I hated the dark, I still do but with exception of being in bed and sleeping! 

I’ve realised how precious sleep is, the older I get and the busier my life has become.  I’m not one of those Mums who can function on 5 hours sleep.  (And frankly, anyone that rubs  my nose in that does so at their own peril OK!) Its 8 hours minimum here or I stop making sense and develop the co ordination of a toddler. 

Now, don’t get me wrong,  I love my children and have pretty much sacrificed my entire existence for them (dramatic licence), my size 8 figure, my bank balance my Friday through Sunday party girl phase, my penchant for designer sunglasses, you’ll catch my drift but you cannot take my sleep (Braveheart voice).

Chloe – Jackson (turtledove/brown)

I don’t mind the excess of laundry, the dishwasher being on and emptied twice a day, as well as the kitchen bin.  I don’t mind hoovering muddy footprints from the hall, morning and night, or losing out on the remote control completely. I don’t even mind going for a choccy biccy with my cuppa and there all gone (you bloody locusts) but 


It is beneficial for us all.  That’s all I’m saying.  I’m like David Banner by 5pm if you don’t.  You won’t like me when I’m angry.  Ask my new future son in law who overheard me ask my son to “set…the…fucking…table”, in a low hissing voice  (Ground swallow me up).  In my defence, he had headphones in one ear and I had asked him over 6 times.  

Incidentally, when is there going to be a She Hulk movie?

(*Note to self : Contact Marvel Studios)