Manoeuvring the pram around the obstacle course of wheelie bins on the pavement, curbs, oncoming traffic, steps, trees and the odd poo with one hand, while its pouring with rain and I'm holding a broken umbrella, that's blowing inside out emptying its contents on me instead; requires a one handed double jointed spiral hip twisting crescent moon bend; to the right.
I love looking like a soggy pretzel with a hunchback.
I love doing one handed yoga in the rain.
Of course the one day I make an effort and actually have a shower and blow dry my nimble balding excuse for hair is the day that I end up looking like I'm one of those "interesting" people auditioning for X Factor.

Dustbin men are SO underrated. The unsung hero's who basically rid us of all that has passed through us, all that has seen its time, and all that wished it had but didn't quite hit the mark.
All praise to the Dustbin man yet the problem is someone up top obviously doesn't think so (and I'd like to see any one of them sorting through all that crap) as they've decided that paying them enough to take the wheelie bins out, onto the road to be emptied must be enough, because god forbid paying them any extra may actually mean they'd PUT THEM BACK!!!

running after it all

I run.
I seem to run everywhere; all the time.
its not that I'm in love with running, or even a great runner by any means, but I have an incessant need to feel the flow of the run.
(yeah, feel the flow man!!)
As in, I'm one of those movey types;



**********************************
21/09/10

Though I had a spare set of keys cut FUCKING yesterday, ive still managed to lock myself out and lock in the spare keys, so im pacing the street with Luca in the sling waiting for downstairs to arrive to see if Ive left a window open. Also  I think I've left the oven ON with a marrow inside and Im about to loose it because I feel utterly stupid and brain dead and unable to do a simple thing.
Motherhood should come with a BIG FAT HEALTH WARNING.


Downstairs arrived.
I smile
Walk in to a burning smell
Nervous giggle
Follow them into their flat and start to flap my arms around as I cant move too much in the few square feet on their living room rug between the plastic teapot and the squeaky turtle.
I'm aware of how strange I look
Desperately trying not to tic so flap some more and release my urge to move move with a great gush of "Aah I could kiss you!" when our spare keys are located in the bottom of their kitchen drawer. Luca wakes so I chuck him into the other's arms and rush upstaris with visions of our newly fitted kitchen burnt to a cinder and my Seb's horror stricken face (he and a good friend worked for months on it)
Almost cant bear to look round the corner, Im sure if I do it will make it a reality but im moving too fast to stop now ... AND THERE...; the kitchen.
 Marrow's roasted to a cinder, but otherwise all have survived.

Has it all begun already?

So it's too late to start this as yet again I'm keeled over the keyboard having run through the night
(not literally- just because its dark outside)
Anyway, I'm just seeing if this works o.k before launching into the blogger world.
My two kids are finally sleeping and if my sleep deprived brain can make even a single neurone function, I'll be a happy lady.
Welcome to my blog

It's about me and my running I.