Wednesday, 13 May 2009


I realised today that there is a direct correlation in this house between stress levels and my sugar intake. For example...

Early morning: The normal routine of getting the Boys out of bed, washed, dressed, fed and ready for school went well. So breakfast was my usual branflakes and milk, with a scattering of raisins, and no sugar. All is quiet on the western front and my food consumption is worthy of a very slim and gorgeous saint.

Post-drop-off morning: calm and quiet. Soup and extreme worthiness for lunch. I spend half an hour polishing my saintly halo.

Boy #2 pick-up from nursery: Normal routine, no real hassle although there was a slightly scary moment when he raced for the car and nearly (but not quite) into the road. Result? The halo slipped, and I snacked on one of the digestives I keep ready for Boy #1's post-school dip whilst Boy #2 took a quick nap...

Boy #1 pick-up and return from school. Relatively stress-free. Straighten my halo and snub the sugary snacks.

4.20pm; leave to take Boys to the hairdressers: have spent the last 50 minutes giving them a snack, tidying up, hanging up the laundry, and preparing dinner for our return. Oh, and polishing my halo again. I leave work-at-home Husband (who is hugely relieved to have a calm and empty house to himself for a while) behind with instructions that he has one thing to do to make dinner happen; put the tray of baking potatoes in the oven when the timer (which I have set to remind him) goes off. Since I have washed and oiled them, he does not have to do any preparation. In fact, he does not even have turn the oven on, I have already sorted it. What could go wrong?

5.20pm return: with two reasonably well-behaved Boys who look like mini-angels with their newly shorn barnets. Husband is on the telephone being important, so I go in to sort out dinner. The tray of baking potatoes is still on the side in the kitchen.

Muttering under my breath and tossing my halo into the waste-disposal, I give up on any idea of food saintliness today and find a half-eaten pack of milk-chocolate buttons. I shovel them down whilst I wash and peel substitute potatoes. The television (which I have been relying on to distract the Boys whilst I sort out our now-late dinner) refuses to turn the sound on. I find a packet of raisins and start to shovel those down too...

6.30pm: we've finished dinner. The spanish casserole I had prepared was not well recieved by the mini-restaurant critics I call my sons, who I have now ceased comparing to mini-angels. Ultimately I found I could only be bothered to demand that they eat the broccoli and some of the (boiled, not baked) potatoes; the rest was scraped into the bin.

Whilst Husband bathed the Boys I found myself in the kitchen drizzling squeezable golden syrup into a spoon and eating it neat.

On the plus side, I suppose at least I didn't do away with the middle-man and tip it straight into my mouth...


  1. Yep, it was all downhill after those buttons.

  2. When I was Mum, to much younger children, it was not unknown for me to guzzle Merchant Gourmet Dulche de Leche sauce straight from the bottle like a baby with it's milk. Uncontrolled ? Hell yeh !

  3. yeah, the buttons will definitely do it! It is so funny because I have just placed a jacket spud in the oven, but really should have done it 60 mins ago because I am hungry NOW. So thought I would read a few blogs while eating the last of the kids easter eggs and some stale cooking chocolate chips (quite disgusting but incredibly easy to tip from the bag straight to the back of the throat).

  4. When I am really stressed I don't eat at all - but obviously I haven't been really, really stressed for quite a while. And here's me thinking that three kids (two of them teenagers) would be the biggest stressor yet. Hmmm. Must go out and look for some stress.

  5. Never, ever done that. Nuh, uh, not me.

    And what exactly is in a Spanish Caserole?

  6. very funny. But you are so demanding, PM, how dare you think that putting a plate of potatoes in the oven is a reasonable request. Tsk. Have given you an award.

  7. What's a potatote?
    No wonder he didn't understand!
    I've finished off some very nice macaroons this morning while Darling Husband did his online farm records...there's straw all over the keyboard now!

  8. SPC, I know. Why oh why didn't I just give them to the Boys?

    TR, good idea, thanks for that one!

    Nicola, I would NEVER do that. But only because I don't have the cooking chocolate chips in the house (right now).

    EPM, stress is over-rated, I find...(but only because mine makes me eat)

    Modern, you are as saintly as I suspected. And the casserole was spanish because it had red pepper, butter beans and chorizo in it (amongst other things). None of which, it turned out, impressed the Boys.

    Milla, nag nag nag, that's me... And thanks! I will be over to collect the goodies asap!

    Frog, I don't know WHAT you're talking about. No misspelling of potatoes here, no sirree (thank god for edit).

  9. I'm like Expat Mum,I don't eat anything when I'm stressed then I eat everything I can find - the sweeter the better. Haven't tired syrup though!

  10. I used to sneak to the cupboard and eat golden syrup from the tin as a child. Never buy it these days (not a great baker/pudding maker) but maybe I should? The other, even more decadent, thing I used to have was Tate & Lyle black treacle....

  11. Rosie, you and EPM can go off and be skinny together then (mutter, mutter, mutter...)

    NVG, and guess we have in our cupboard underneath the golden syrup? (For yes, I AM a baker...)

  12. My halo is defective like yours. Need a new one where you don't eat when you're stressed/tired/cranky...

  13. Tracey, when you find one can you let me know where to get it? Am in desparate need...


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