I’ve wanted to do this blogging thing for a little while.
To be perfectly honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m no budding journo or English student. I can barely string a sentence together most days, so if this is as dull as shit please feel free to go browse elsewhere, I won’t be offended.
I promise.
To be perfectly honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m no budding journo or English student. I can barely string a sentence together most days, so if this is as dull as shit please feel free to go browse elsewhere, I won’t be offended.
I promise.
So this is my aim.
I love the idea of the 365 photo project, so I’d like to try to do
that. But I’ll also be including diary type entries, rants and probably a product
review occasionally.
To explain the thinking behind my blog name, I was called Strawberry at high school (we were all fruits,
from some crazy ass planet called sherbet lemon, don’t ask, I don’t remember that
well).
So this blog is just about me and my life, me finding my feet in the juggling hands full world of being a housewife, Mummy and working from home. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those perfect mummies. I don’t do craft with my kids nearly as often as I’d like, a nearly never take them swimming, I lose my rag and yell at them, and though my baking tastes delightful, it looks like my three year old ‘helped’. In fact I have been known to blame him for my dodgy cake decorating. I smile inside when I say “Bean helped” and everyone goes “awww” and helps themselves to a big slice. I let them play together, run themselves ragged round the house, because I expect them to be perfect out the house, which often they are. I just clean up the mess and they know where I am if they’ve bumped their head. But when they’re bigger and playing football every Sunday morning, I won’t be yelling at the sidelines, I’ll be in bed nursing my gin hangover. That’s the kind of mummy I am.
So this blog is just about me and my life, me finding my feet in the juggling hands full world of being a housewife, Mummy and working from home. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those perfect mummies. I don’t do craft with my kids nearly as often as I’d like, a nearly never take them swimming, I lose my rag and yell at them, and though my baking tastes delightful, it looks like my three year old ‘helped’. In fact I have been known to blame him for my dodgy cake decorating. I smile inside when I say “Bean helped” and everyone goes “awww” and helps themselves to a big slice. I let them play together, run themselves ragged round the house, because I expect them to be perfect out the house, which often they are. I just clean up the mess and they know where I am if they’ve bumped their head. But when they’re bigger and playing football every Sunday morning, I won’t be yelling at the sidelines, I’ll be in bed nursing my gin hangover. That’s the kind of mummy I am.
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