It’s been a day of several parts.
Paint my kitchen. This is extremely necessary, as when we moved in 2 years ago (and after we renovated the entire thing – oh that WAS fun. Not.) I painted every wall, ceiling and floor a subtle shade known in the trade as Pure Brilliant White, and to you and me as Completely Blinding. Seriously, you need sunglasses to avoid being dazzled the moment you walk in the door. So now I’m gradually reducing the amount of Completely Blinding, and adding some of what’s known in the trade as Off White, or to you and me Three Times As Expensive As White, But Still Pretty Much White.
TV stuff. Today one of the episodes of GMTV’s Baby Breakfast Club that I contributed to went to air, with me banging on helpfully about smacking. The temptation to stand up and say OF COURSE YOU SHOULDN’T SMACK YOUR KIDS. IT’S HORRIBLE! BUT WE ALL GET DRIVEN INSANE ONCE IN A WHILE AND DO IT ANYWAY, AND THEN FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. SIGH. was pretty strong, but I think I did OK, even if I did prattle on a bit too much here and there.
http://bit.ly/7P5plR here, judge for yourselves. Please forgive the ads at the start. I come in about half way through, and finish, um, at the end.
Arguing with my delightful (no sarcasm meant there, for once) 12-year-old who is going through some kind of crisis about Facebook. More specifically she is going through a crisis about not being allowed to go on Facebook. I’ll save you the details, but let’s just say that I cling on for dear life to stupid, romantic ideas about kids climbing trees and building houses out of boxes and not spending their entire childhood talking to people they see all day at school anyway, on a small, flickering screen, and what’s the world coming to ANYWAY??!
And that’s the end of that.
(This is, of course, another way of saying ‘I am completely addicted to it, and cannot come off it without requiring years of expensive therapy, and I don’t want you to end up in the same boat. So because I’m bad, you can’t be as well. So there.’ But I’m putting the Mummy Spin on it and saying things about child abduction and square eyes instead.
It’s getting me nowhere.
Finishing an article I’ve written for the Mail that, between you and me, I’m a tad nervous about, and which should come out on Thursday or Friday in FeMail. I shall let you know.
That’s if I’ve finished painting the kitchen, bien sur…