We are live from the leisure centre, once more.

We are live from the leisure centre, once more.

But less about that and more about WWE or whatever it’s called…

Unfortunately, the remote control batteries have run out and I have been unable to get the back off to replace them. I now have to stand for five minutes scrolling through 1,100 channels to get back to 0104 to listen to Women’s Hour.
I keep meaning to ask Dangerous to sort it out but I only remember when he’s at work. All things to do with remote controls are mans work, as far as I’m concerned.

Every time I turn the telly on, I am now greeted with American wrestlers. This morning, it was lady wrestlers.

They are amazing, big strong women, who pretend to kick the shit out of each other and make a living out of it.

The crowd of Americans go wild for it and they aren’t even little boys.

I keep expecting to see Donald Trump in the crowd whoop whooping along with all his gun toting compatriots.

I have tried in vain to let the boys down gently about it being a show, and not real fighting but they’re having none of it.

Their belief in the power of wrestling is absolute. It’s unwavering. They are absolutely in awe of it.

They get very upset when I mention that it’s just pretend. They then carry on kicking the living shit out of each other, even though it clearly states at the beginning of the programme to not kick the living shit out of your brother as you’ve not undergone specialist training.

I have been contemplating getting some tattoos, some hair extensions and doing some free weights so that they take more notice of me when I talk to them.

My wrestling name would be “Extreme Totes” and I’d be sporting some exciting new massive boobs and a six pack. I’m rather fancying some white lace up boots too.

I’ll get on the trampoline with the boys and take on all comers. I bet Dangerous would like it too…

I’m in preparation for the ball that’s not a ball, tonight.

I’ll be asking for advice on outfits shortly.

We are live from the leisure centre

We are live from the leisure centre.

It is full of nice parents that don’t snarl like a psycho at their little darlings. I, on the other hand have been banging my head against a wall and weeping/swearing whilst intermittently snarling at them.

Banging your head against a wall is quite an effective means of blocking out the pain caused by three little shits whom have no concept of time and still can’t dress themselves. Other ways are drinking vast amounts of alcohol. I have checked and the leisure centre doesn’t allow alcohol on the premises.

Today we (that’s me and the little shits) are going to be working on a concept that my darlings still find very difficult to grasp.

It’s centred around socks and the misuse of socks and footwear in general.

I have tried explaining the concept in its entirety but as they are only six, eight and ten, they have been struggling to comprehend this unbelievably complex subject.

Socks are worn on the feet to stop the outer shoe rubbing against the skin and creating pain. Socks can also be used to gather up the perspiration that comes from the foot and then washed so that the footwear/shoe does not harbour foul odours from the perspiration.

Today we will be working on part of this principle.

Reasons that you shouldn’t wear socks outside and also reasons that you should never leave socks outside overnight or for a few weeks.

1, if you wear socks outside without shoes, they will become possibly wet but definitely very dirty.

2, wearing socks outside will not protect your feet from stones and banging them on things.

3, if you leave your socks outside for a while, they will be taken by the fox or an earwig could use it as a home.

4, if you leave your socks outside, Mum won’t be able to wash the dark brown stained socks because she won’t be able to fucking find them.

5, if it is wet outside and you walk around with your socks on, then come back inside, you will make wet and muddy footprints on the floor.

That’s enough for this module now. They can’t take too much in at once.

This afternoon, we are also going to be having an introduction on the complexities of how Mum will go fucking mental if you throw lolly sticks and other rubbish under the bastard trampoline.

I’m out, out tonight!

We are live from the leisure centre

We are live from the leisure centre.

We were early. We were early because Dangerous has taken Oscar to a football match and he dropped us off in my car. We now have no way of getting home, other than walking. It’s not far though. It’s only about one and a half miles away.
One and a half miles is the equivalent of Ted Running a marathon. I will have to pull him all the way home.

We have had nail polish Gate this morning.

Here are the facts.

I found nail polish on the carpet. There was a stain around the small blob of pale green nail polish.

Within reach of the nail polish was a bottle of nail polish remover. I have pointed out on numerous occasions that this is a serious chemical and isn’t to play with.

I accused the suspect of using chemicals.

The little shit denied it.

I’m now considering my options.

They are as follows.

1, Get some friends over, obtain some marbles and throw Said marbles at the bottle of nail polish remover. Hope to fuck that this is taken as intended and doesn’t result in an escalation of violence and ultimately end in the break out of world war.

2, Enter into lengthy but polite discussions known as diplomacy. I’m not known for my diplomacy though.

3, Set fire to the bedroom and tell everyone about it on Twitter whilst shouting

“Take that motherfucker. That is shock and awe! I told you not to fuck with me!”

Obviously this might burn the house down.

So far, I’ve just shouted a lot. Any other suggestions?

Top Zara sale £10
Coat Zara sale £20
Culottes Sainsbury’s £5
Boots Zara £39.99
Bag Kenzo H&M collaboration last year £39.99
Earrings £7.99 H&M. I’ve got them in two colours now.

Pray for me on the walk home please.

We are live from the leisure centre

We are live from the leisure centre.
We were on time..ish.

I am terribly on edge about running the marathon tomorrow, so I have been shouting at Dangerous. That is this mornings excuse anyway.

We have worked out that the reason that Ted is so bad at swimming compared to his peers is because he has skipped a group. The near drowning incident a couple of weeks ago is because he’s not good enough to be in the big pool.

Yesterday we went to the cinema. We got bargain tickets.

I do love a bargain.

It has to be said that I’m very generous with some things and somewhat of a skinflint about other things.

My children would very obligingly tell you of my tight-fistedness in many situations, especially where car parking is concerned. I’d rather walk fifteen minutes than pay eight quid to park somewhere. I laugh in the face of the parking attendants in many a National Trust car park and then make my darlings walk an extra mile to get to the entrance. It’s not that I begrudge the National Trust. I don’t but I’d rather spend the money in the cafe.

Some things are just so expensive that it’s absurd. Nearly everything that is aimed at keeping parents sane and children entertained during the holidays is extortionately priced.

There have been an awful lot of visits to parks this Easter holiday until I finally put my hand in my pocket begrudgingly to pay to go to the cinema with the crotchfruits. I love going to the cinema with my darlings. Obviously I embarrassed them in the foyer by lying down next to the cardboard cut out of a lady with nice big boobies.

I laid on the floor and bellowed “Spot the difference!” The crotchfruits looked aghast and tried to hide. One of them is still cross with me.

The best bit about it all (apart from embarrassing the kids) is that I got forty percent off the tickets with this app called “Kids Pass”
I paid for two adults and four kids to get in and it only cost me £34.30!

£34.30 in the holidays! OMFG! It should have been over sixty quid.

I’m not allowed to actually swear on this post as it’s boosted and you can’t swear on a boosted post – I’d like you to know how exceptionally hard I have found this.

I was a bit dubious when I first looked at this app because there’s loads of deals on cinema tickets but they all have specific days. This one is forty percent off all the time. We are going to do Legoland next week as well. That’s forty percent off with the Kids Pass too.

There’s loads of deals on loads of attractions for nice people who are kind to their children and for people like me too.

Obviously the money that I saved will be spent on the finest quality gin and some new, very Fashion Forward attire.

By next Friday, you will find me slumped over an empty bottle of gin muttering swear words and talking about queues at Legoland.

The Kids Pass is on an introductory offer of £1 for the first thirty days. There’s no minimum subscription, so if you don’t use it, you can cancel it.

www.kidspass.co.uk

We are live from the leisure centre wearing silver leggings and channeling Mondrian.

We are live from the leisure centre wearing silver leggings and channeling Mondrian.

In a true show of Totes Stoicism, I can confirm that we were on time. We were actually a teeny weeny bit early as I needed to check which class Ted should be attending. Last time we ventured to a lesson, Sue the swimming teacher collared me after the lesson to ask if I knew that Ted wasn’t in her class any more and ascertain why I kept bringing him to her lesson when he’d moved up. Obviously I did my best Totes acting dumb shit when the truth was that I’d simply forgotten to speak to reception about changing his class.
I have now had to take a weeping Ted directly to the big pool. No more baby pool for us. I’ve got all three little shits drowning in the big pool now. Unfortunately I walked up the poolside in my very thick socks and they are now sodden.

Today I will be driving to gymnastics in Knutsford and walking the dog around Tatton Park in between drop off and pick up. I seem to spend an increasing amount of time, finding shit to do between drop off and pick up.

And in other news, my leg is fucked after running a slow five miles yesterday, so my dreams of winning the Manchester marathon are looking less likely than ever

We are live from the leisure centre

We are live from the leisure centre.

I’d like to point out that I hate swimming lessons. I have just had the mother of all breakdowns in the car because yet again we were late. I did my Special Basil Fawlty impression where I shake my fist and punch myself in the face in a frenzy of anger. We were due to set off at 8.45. We set off at 8.56. The lesson should be thirty minutes. We usually manage the last fifteen. It takes my children over thirty minutes to have a shower and get changed afterwards. They then empty my purse for the bastard vending machine.

I am an official psycho bitch from hell this morning! No excuses, no “I’m due on” no “I’ve got a hangover”. Just “my kids have fucking pushed me to the brink of madness. In fact fuck that. I think that I’ve lost it!”

I hate the push to get the little shits out of the door seven days a week. I hate that they do nothing that they should in order to leave the house ever, without being shouted at. Even when they’re shouted at, they don’t actually listen. Occasionally when my shouting becomes particularly frenzied, they realise that I’m cross and start to weep.

Every day there is surprise on their faces when I demand that they put shoes AND socks on. They are so lazy that even when it’s freezing, they will try and put on their shoes without socks despite my explanation that their shoes will rub and their feet will stink.

I hate that they can’t be bothered to have a drink without being told to. I’m in awe of the little shits dedication to being dehydrated. I expect that one day they will just fucking shrivel up and die.

I can’t believe that they will walk out of the house with no coat on despite rain and the temperature being three degrees but they will have an iPad clutched to their breast.

And on top of all this, and just to actually have me actually lose my shit a bit more Dangerous took The Thug Pug for a walk. The only time that Dangerous takes the dog for a walk is Saturday morning. He sauntered back after around seven minutes and let a very wet dog bound around the house shaking himself.

“He won’t walk because it’s raining” was his simple explanation.

I need to buy a present for Bella to take to a birthday party this afternoon but random violence keeps erupting from the changing room that the little fuckers are sharing so I’m stood outside as they’ve locked me out, threatening them as all the other nice mummies look on in horror.

Fuck my mother fucking, shit, bastard life! Fuck vending machines! Fuck swimming lessons! Fuck the lot of it! I’m going fucking shopping to buy myself some Black Friday happiness!

We are live from the leisure centre.

We are live from the leisure centre.

Today the little shits have attended their swimming lesson for thirteen of the thirty minutes that I have paid for.

In the changing rooms I hear a nice Daddy with one little boy talking to him animatedly about aliens and all sorts of other amazing things whilst he dries him lovingly. The Daddy is clearly enjoying the man to man bonding stuff with his cute toddler. Drowning out his enchanting story telling is me shouting….

“Don’t look in the mirror, you haven’t got time to preen in the mirror! Don’t put your clothes on the floor, it’s wet and dirty, why have you locked yourself in a cubicle? Put your fucking swimming cap on! Don’t roll your eyes at me! Im Sure that you’ve not brushed your teeth! Hurry up, hurry, HURRY, don’t run, you will fall! Where is your swimming cap? WELL JUST LOOK FOR YOUR SWIMMING COSTUME. ITS IN THE BAG. YOU HAVE TO PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE BAG AND ACTUALLY FUCKING MOVE OTHER THINGS IN ORDER TO FIND IT. IT WONT JUMP OUT MAGICALLY INTO YOUR HAND. Please don’t bottle flip the shampoo because the bottle will break, I said please don’t do that! DONT FLIP THE TWATTING SHAMPOO. WHERE ARE YOUR GOGGLES??? Ewwww I’ve found the underpants that we lost last week. HURRY, Stop looking in the mirror, get off the floor, Quick, Quick. FUCKS SAKE DONT USE YOUR SWIMMING CAP AS A WEAPON. DONT TWAT YOUR BROTHER, WE ARE SO LATE. TWAT HIM AFTERWARFDS!!!

Meanwhile

“Yes darling, put your shoes on. What a good boy. Yes that’s right. Shall we sing a song?”

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Yesterday was all show biz and waking up in hotels. Today we are back to wet towels, kid on kid violence and wondering what time it’s ok to have a glass of wine at.

We are live from the leisure centre

We are live from the leisure centre.

It’s pissing it down, the changing rooms are flooded and we were late.

Somehow today, I’ve got to get a course of antibiotics in case I get fucking limes disease, get Bella to gymnastics for 2 hours in Knutsford, procure food, Nana and Gaga are coming over, I’ve got to get Oscar and Ted to a play date, Bella is having a sleepover with two friends, I’ve got to show my face at a friends 50th and Dangerous is fucking off to the football.
The house was briefly tidy and I mopped the floors yesterday. It now looks like a bastard bomb site. Dangerous very helpfully cleared up after tea last night whilst I did the gymnastics run. He left all the things that he didn’t want to tidy up for me this morning. He also left crumbs all over the chairs. He doesn’t like to actually wash up so he puts everything (including things that shouldn’t go in) in the dishwasher. He then gets a dry microfibre cloth and uses glass cleaner to grind food into our glass table. It doesn’t matter how often I advise him that he needs to wash the dirt off first, he doesn’t listen. He just smears food and bacteria all over and then expects me to be grateful. The cloths that are dry but with crusty food on, then get hidden in a cupboard so that every now and then I open the cupboard to be treated to a noxious smell of rancid food. I then get all the cloths whilst gagging and wash them out and then bleach them for 24 hours.

Other things that Dangerous refuses to comprehend are that towels become smelly if they aren’t dried. He likes to put them on heated towel rails that are never heated.
He will never adhere to my rules about leaving shoes by the front door, no matter how much I swear at him.
Dangerous does not know that when the washing machine beeps, it has finished and needs emptying. He has also never brought any washing in. If I start screaming because it’s started raining and run outside to bring it in, he simply laughs at me from the door.

Whilst I counted down to the return trip to pick Bella up, he drank copious amounts of red wine and had himself a disco.

“Just another day in paradise” by Phil Collins is playing in my head……

“She can’t walk but she’s trying”

“Fuck that shit” is my motto for today.

Never mind, My dress has cheered me up.https://www.lagenluxe.co.uk/…/agenna-stripe-roll-neck-asymm…

Get with the programme bitches!

Get with the programme bitches!

Saturday morning Multi tasking done professionally.

Why do one thing at once? It’s so last year.
You could achieve so much more and make yourself really anxious if you run around swearing a lot.

Shave your legs whilst showering and then clean the shower whilst you are still in there.

Answer Emails whilst doing a poo and then clean the toilet so that it is fresh for the next person.

Lecture the little shits about healthy eating whilst providing a never ending breakfast buffet.

Walk the dog and procure butter and Nutella -fucking Nutella is the price of gold in Sainsbury’s local, I got an armed guard to walk me home!

Wash the floor where the dog walked foot prints in whilst inventing new swear words.

Teach the little shits a valuable life lesson by telling them that they won’t be getting new swimming goggles as they lost their brand new ones whilst laughing inwardly.

Read Grazia whilst making coffee and watching Team Titans Go then swear at yourself for time wasting.

Wake your husband up by opening the blinds and sorting laundry to try to make him feel guilty (though he won’t)

Make the little shits put their swimming stuff on under their clothes like clever mummies do and set off to swimming lessons on time.

Clean dog poo out of the area that used to be known as your garden (but is now a pet toilet for your puppy, the local bastard fox and next doors cat) whilst also picking all the wet socks up that the little shits left out there yesterday.

Don’t think that the men can’t get involved too. They can lie in bed smelling and snoring (until rudely awoken by your good self doing an impression of a chamber maid on speed )

Aaaaah the weekend, a time for happiness and family time.

Totes is live from the leisure centre. She was not late and she is not hungover. She is however, just a tad stressed.

Jeans Zara
Top Zara sale £7.99
Shoes office sale

We are live from the leisure centre.

We are live from the leisure centre. We were late. We were very late. There’s hardly any fucking point being here as we are so very late. I am not hungover. I spent last night having a nervous breakdown as I realised that my post about the piss up in the brewery had the wrong email address on and the wrong account details. I only realised this after some money had gone missing. I eventually worked out who’s account details I had inadvertently used and found the money. I only had one job to do…….

We have lost three new pairs of goggles. They were bought last week and lost last week. We have lost all the swimming caps. We have lost the shampoo and conditioner. What the fuck planet was I on last week?

I have been for a run this morning. That is why I was late. I tried to do the map a cock and balls challenge on my runkeeper app for our new running group “Run Bitch Run” I set off well and got one of the balls perfectly. I got half of the cock done including a cheeky wink and then I took a wrong turn. I ended up doing an extra mile and a half when I only had time to do 4 miles. It looks nothing like a cock or balls.

I have one thing to say and it is this “over 3000 members in two days. I’m really glad that the other group threw my post off. Now we’ve got our own family of runners that like swearing, boozing and gratuitous wound photos”

Haha Mofos

Fuck my life though – fucking £15 for new goggles, £3 for new hats and new shampoo and conditioner. The little shits are in for it.

Dress Monki £25
Leather jacket Zara sale £20 last year.
Trainers £5.99 Zara sale last year
Bag Marc Jacobs £66