If you follow me on Twitter you'll know I have changed my hair, again.  Not a very good photo as I've just washed it and it's all tied back BUT it's purple with green tips.  Oh, and you know that fringe that I hated? the fringe I was growing out? The fringe that irritated the shit out of me?  Well, I had a simply genius idea and cut it back in.  Boredom + scissors is such a dangerous mix for me.

The purple is much more vibrant in decent lighting.

As you may be able to tell, I'm very pale skinned and I have a lot of moles, nowhere is spared, limbs, feet, hands, face, torso even one on the sole of my foot.  The Husband thinks he's hilarious, me not so much.  He finds it incredibly amusing to sit next to me and whack my arm whilst shouting 'Whack a mole!'.  Yes, my Husband is an arse.

It's a wrap

Whilst Thing One was on shopping duty with The Husband I had The Toddler and Thing Two to entertain.  Being the sort who never ever learns from past experiences I stupidly thought I could entertain them both.  I put The Toddler in his high chair and produced his rainbow rice which he plays with endlessly when it's just him and then finally sat Thing Two down and proceeded to full fill one of those promises I made a while ago by using a hair wrap kit she got for Christmas.  Bare in mind I'm craft inept, have never done this before and have zero patience.  I should have quit really when I fucked up the first step and cut the thread the wrong length.

Well The Toddler started chucking the rice, chucking other random items, at us, whilst screaming maniacally and then tossed the whole tin of rice to the floor and started writhing and grunting trying to escape the chair and Thing Two got bored.  Not an enviable combination.

So it's rushed, it's messy, it's bodged in places and the end wasn't finished so is loose thread but she's happy and that's what counts.

White Rabbit.

A pinch, a punch, first day of the month.

How is it June already?  June is a busy month of dates featuring Father's day, my dad's birthday, the 12 year anniversary of the first date I had with The Husband and also our 8 year wedding anniversary not to mention the slightly more morbid anniversary of  The Miscarriage.

So day one of Half Term is nearly over and what do you know, we've actually survived it.  Crikey.

The Toddler is somewhat disgruntled that his space is being invaded by Thing One and Thing Two, he understands they go to school yet I think the fact they have holidays is beyond him and in his mind entering the realm of the absurdly unfair. 

Today has been one of those days with not much to say nor do as it simply dripped by in drabs.

The Toddler has decided lately that he at nap time he simply must remove his socks,  I haven't the foggiest what that's about.  A toddlers mind is a complex place.

He's already decided I am merely parts and not a whole as whilst packing the boulders back into the scaffolding (aka bra) he chirped up 'Bye Bye Meemee's, love you' Meemee's being his word for boobies.
 
Talking of scaffolding, due to going down in back size again I decided I'd trial wearing real bras instead of nursing bras, you know...pretty things with underwire.  I figure they're big enough and droopy enough to wop out over the top 68565858 times a day, however, having tried two different sizes now I am at a total loss as to what cup size I am and what was an exciting uplifting prospect of new underwear is now a total disheartening ball ache that has made me decide to send them all back and stick with the godawful nursing bras that are slightly too big and revisit the situation should I ever manage to shift this extra stone I've been meaning to lose yet failing at abysmally.  So now I feel like a fat frumpy failure, for a change.  It's been over 8 years since I had pretty, shapely decent underwear.  I miss my old draw of gossard loveliness.

I won't even start on today's latest hair fail....

Do you ever feel that everything you attempt just goes wrong? No matter how you try to improve your confidence you can't quite get there, underwear fail, weight loss fail, clothes fail, shoe fail and hair fail. 

...where's the chocolate? ...