Waiting for a star to fall

Call me a sap - please, feel free - but I like to read my horoscopes. Not the crappy ones in magazines, they have to be by somebody who at least tries to make an effort to sound like they're not making it up. Jonathan Cainer for The Mail - he's suitably seedy looking. And Claire Petulengro for The Express - if she isn't descended from gypsies, I'll eat my hat. I wouldn't say I believe them per se; it's more of a vague hope that my financial worries will all be resolved in December, and my health will indeed receive a welcome boost in the new year. I don't actually think any of the things that have been predicted for my starsign (Aries, if you're interested) have materialised yet. But I am eternally hopeful of the tall dark stranger the likes of Cainer and Petulengro keep promising..;)

Sometimes it's hard to be a woman

Don't get me wrong - I love being a mum. My kid's are funny, cute, clever, affectionate - all the things you hope your kids will be. But sometimes, being a wife and mother is totally overwhelming. Some days feel like a constant barrage of demands - for your time, your energy, your cooking, your money and your patience! There are very few thanks for everything you do, day in day out, for what you do is what is expected of you. It is in the job description that i will cook, clean, wash, tidy, bath, decorate - all whilst having the cries of "Is my tea ready yet?/I want Cbeebies on/Mummy, Charlie's eating the cats biscuits" ringing in my ears. But this morning I think my small daughter understood that Mummy was becoming a little fraught with the constant questioning and barrage of noise, as she paused and said "I don't have any more questions. Love you Mummy." And so, peace ensued. For about 47 seconds, until I began brushing my teeth and heard the smallest small one screeching, and the biggest small one shout "NO Charlie! It's MY barbecue!" Sigh.