It’s been a long time since I last posted. Apologies and all that. Job change, life took over, my daughter’s party, starting preschool and the daily onslaught of parenting two rugrats. You know how it is.
But I’m back. Decided I should stop procrastinating and moaning about the sheer volume of utter domestic crap that fills any gap in my day, and write a blogpost.
So I’m sitting on my arse, watching Eastenders and refusing to do anymore housework. Well this is a lie, I’m sitting ordering my Mr Mother Fudger around to fulfil tasks. How I laugh when he tells me not to project manage him. We all know I’m the puppeteer and he’s the dancing little doggy.
Mr MF and I are doing that thing we do every so often. The elephant in the room, the thing you avoid for a while then admit you can’t leave any longer for everyone’s sanity and satisfaction. Yes, we’re discussing moving again and obsessing over Rightmove.
Such a pleasure and such a pain. Apparently my £1 million budget is over our price range. It’s an absurd amount over our price range but our price range doesn’t offer me what we need.
How on earth could I consider moving somewhere that doesn’t have the following:
- enormous kitchen diner so I have sufficient space for a chef and maid when I win the lottery. Plus the extra space will mean I get to feed the boychild and girlchild in a room that isn’t carpeted and therefore doesn’t involve painful cleaning periods.
- at least 6 bedrooms. The impending nanny will need one (see lottery win above). The kids need them and I’d like a couple of guest rooms.
- a garden the size of a football pitch. Jeeeesus how energetic are children. Our current postage stamp of a garden just doesn’t cut it.
- swimming pool, soft play village, staff. I don’t need to elaborate on these I’m sure.
The difficulty is, we basically can’t really afford more than we have. So, we hit a stalemate. And during that time, I’ll just keep playing the Rightmove game.
Oooo, on another note, my daughter is developing her drawing skills. Check out her portrait of me – pretty accurate, massive glasses. She erm, obviously doesn’t feel the need for my nose, eyes or mouth. She’s clearly developing early abstract realism techniques. I’ll tell everyone at toddler group how clever she is.