British Mummy Blogger of the Week

>> Sunday, 4 October 2009

'A good marriage is like a violin. When the beautiful music stops, the strings are still attached.'

No, I can't take credit for that. Husband and I went to a wedding yesterday (Boy free), and this was one of the many pearls of wisdom that the groom's father shared with us in his speech. I say many; I know there were others, but unfortunately the demon drink had hold of my right arm by the time he said very much more, so the additional wonderful things that both he, the bride's father, and the groom said didn't make it to the 'file' section of my rather decrepit computer of a brain.

It's not my fault, your honour. Did I mention that the wedding was Boy Free? As in, no dependants needing Husband and I to remain compus mentis? That's a powerful ingredient, to start with. Throw in a couple of 'not-previously-met-but-by-the-end-of-the-evening-bessie-mates-and-dancing-partners' to lead me astray and before I long I make the fatal mistake of actually listening to that better-off-ignored voice at the back of my head telling me to 'dance like nobody's watching'. Not pretty when you're in your twenties. Positively unattractive in your thirties. And in your forties? Well, to be honest, I think that if all I lost last night was the ability to remember the finer points of the speeches then things didn't derail too badly...

However, back in London, and I've managed to crank my rubbish computer brain back to full service now (Diet coke can work wonders), so I can point you towards the British Mummy Blogger of this Week. She writes in her 'about me' section:

'I'm a 32 year old woman living with a Jamaican of the same age. Our relationship works because we don't understand one another. Our son was born in Oct 2008. He arrived 10 days early. I blame this on a broken window that I was wrestling with the night before. I don't think of myself as a 'mother', mainly because I can't remove stains from things. I'm just someone who gave birth. I'm lucky, fabulous and imperfect.'

Troutie's writing is hilarious. I've been giggling at her posts since she attracted my attention by using the post title 'Fucked in Russian' - because, well, before very long I probably will be (in terms of the language, Timothy, nothing else!) - and I loved her most recent post concerning the emotional blackmail grandmothers are willing to resort to if they believe their little treasures are not being accorded the required amount of respect...

To check out the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note: It's called 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too)

8 comments:

nixdminx 4 October 2009 at 21:26  

I'll definitely check this post out. I went to an awards ceremony and thought it would be very ironic to do some headbanging...I had a crooked neck for a week and the treble brandies took far too long to wear off

Metropolitan Mum 4 October 2009 at 22:50  

Thanks for pointing that one out - I can see myself having a similar conversation in about half a year...

Troutie 5 October 2009 at 00:37  

Thanks for the link. Hope I don't disappoint! xxxx

Lorna Harris 5 October 2009 at 04:49  

I think by the time you're 40 you should be able to dance however you wish!

Heading over to look at Troutie's site.

Thames 5 October 2009 at 07:41  

Thanks again for spending your Sunday doing this!

Perfectly Happy Mum 5 October 2009 at 08:03  

The wedding did sound like lots of fun!
Thanks for recommending this blog, I am off to check it now.

Brit in Bosnia / Fraught Mummy 5 October 2009 at 08:23  

Oh great choice. Troutie is brilliant!

I have a mission in my life - I need to develop my dancing skills to the point that they REALLY embarrass my boys when they are older. I'm doing pretty well. Hope the hangover is wearing off. I find that they last a few days now that I'm no longer 21.

Potty Mummy 5 October 2009 at 08:56  

NM- would it be too cruel to say that our recovery powers aren't what they used to be?

MM, glad you liked it. I had the same one myself a few years back - grannies are the same the world over...

Troutie, my pleasure. And you won't.

Lorna, me too. Or at least, I did on Saturday night.

Thames, a pleasure, as ever.

PHM, hope you like it.

Brit, the scary thing is that actually there was some sense up there because I stopped drinking fairly early. This meant that the hangover was not as bad as it might have been - but also means that my dancing like that was doubly embarrassing.

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