Cou Cou - c'est moi...

We were in Somerset this weekend, surrounded by green fields, alternately drenched in sunshine and rain, and as ever at my parents, eating far too much. I had to leave and drive back to London yesterday before I was no longer able to fit in the car due to an excess of food, wine, and relaxation.

The Boys, of course, had a wonderful time, but it has become clear that Boy #2 is outstandingly not ready for potty training. This revelation occurred when I left Husband in charge of bathtime. Afterwards my youngest son - whilst walking nappy-less between the bathroom and our bedroom, a distance of approximately 3 meters - wee'ed on the stairs. My mother, surpervising the journey in the vain hope of preventing this sort of incident, said the most comic thing about the whole experience was his expression of shock. She told me that he pointed at the wet patch with a degree of surprise that suggested he had no idea how it had got there - despite the fact that she had seen exactly how it had got there, not 20 seconds earlier. And it wasn't via a leak in the ceiling.

So, potty training is on hold for the moment. And thankyou Expat Mum for the hint about the water and white vinegar taking the smell out of most things - I will pass that one on to my mother.

And whilst I'm talking about 'interesting' moments, how about these two? Having showered and dressed on Saturday morning I went down to have breakfast with my parents. At which point, my mother asked me if I would like to borrow a hairdryer. I thanked her and pointed out that I had brought my own - which I had already used that morning. However, I realised later that perhaps she might have had a point regarding my general unkemptness, when whilst in Boots I asked for some not-so-cheap creams from the pharmacy for the Boys' eczema. The pharmacist looked at me. I looked at him. I had thought I was looking quite respectable. Not by Somerset standards, apparantly. "Are you sure?" he asked, in a caring fashion. "They're quite expensive, you know."

I clearly looked like a bag lady.

So now it's eerily quiet chez Potty. The Boys have stayed on for a few days with their grandparents 'on holiday', and back in London without them so - ostensibly - am I.

But the flat is empty without them, and whilst Husband is here, much of the time I am home alone with nothing but my 'to-do' list.

So I have done what any sensible woman should do when there is nothing to come between her and a long list of 'shoulds'. For today only, I have ignored the List, which includes such exciting items as; sort out the Boys' toys and donate unused items to charity; go through the shoe drawer and... donate unused items to charity; go through the pile of filing and, much as I would like to donate those unused items to charity, instead action all the outstanding items put to one side for much too long; sort out my tax return; and blah blah blah... etc etc etc.

No, today, I skipped off school and went to a Spa with two girlfriends. Hurrah! A lovely time was had by all. Though I feel I should mention, for safety's sake, that swimsuits which are unsuitable for doing lengths in at your local gym fare no better at a swanky spa during an Aqua-Fit Circuits Class. What can I say? The class was included in the cost of the day and so it seemed a shame not to do it; it was basically free. And so - more than once - was my chest, of the swimsuit.

When will I learn?