No time for Shrinking Violets...

Russia is not a country for the shy and retiring. Exciting things can happen here - and do, every day - but not if you sit at home waiting for them to drop through your virtual letter box. Well, not normally, anyway. But today has been a bit of an exception...

It's easy, as I sit here in Moscow 1500 miles from home, to feel a little bit out of things. My trip back to the UK a couple of weekends ago didn't help matters; I had a lovely time but discovered that 2 of the group of 4 close friends I've known for 24 years are moving; one to the Far East, and the other to Yorkshire. (Well, at least she'll have Betty's). I hadn't expected that time would stand still whilst we were in the frozen wastes of Russia, but... Actually, scratch that. I had expected that time would stand still. Rather naively, I thought that we would be away a couple of years, it would fly by, and then I would return to London and just slot seamlessly back into my old existence.

Well, PM, life ain't like that.

So I found myself - more than after previous trips home - feeling a little bereft. That's not to say that we haven't made a life for ourselves out here in Moscow. As a family we've put ourselves out there (never was there a better piece of advice given to arriving expats than 'when you first get there, say yes to everything!') and in return I have been on the receiving end of more kindness and warmth than I could ever have expected. On occasion, people have so surprised me with their generosity of spirit that I've found myself thinking 'Why? What's in it for them?'

The interesting thing though is that the longer I've been here, the more I've come to understand the impulse behind such actions - helping people out who are in the situation you so recently were in yourself, and crucially in this transient expat world, could be in again at any point - and the less cynical I've become.

Established expats put themselves out for the newbies because they can remember feeling lonely, disorientated, confused and homesick themselves.

But even with that support structure, I have to say that there is one thing that, perhaps above all else, kept me from going crazy when I first arrived out here. You guessed it: the blogging community. Specifically, the blogging community centred around the British Mummy Bloggers ning.

Because I knew that if I blogged about it, there were people out there reading, sympathising with, hopefully laughing at and commenting on my posts. And that they understand that whilst life isn't always a bundle of laughs, it can sometimes make the hard things so much more bearable if I concentrate - in writing - on those that aren't.

So I'm not ashamed to say that I teared up a bit when I saw that I've been nominated in 2 categories as a finalist in the BMB Brilliance in Blogging Awards alongside some truly awesome writers. You'll find The Potty Diaries in the shortlist for 'Funniest Post', and 'Outstanding In Their Field'. Thankyou to anyone who nominated me; I would love to say that I blog simply for the love of it, but this is the icing on my bloggy cake...

And finally, since one of the things that being here in Russia has reinforced for me is that if you don't ask, you don't get, I'm not ashamed to ask this of you; go and check out all the other nominated blogs. But then:

VOTE FOR ME, PLEASE!

You can read my post nominated for Funniest Post here, and click here to go through to the BMB blog to find out more about these awards.

I've booked...

We're back in Moscow after our week in the UK. I have a million loads of laundry to do, a fridge to stock, bags to unpack, and a pile of mail (both real and virtual) to open. What to do first? Well, isn't it obvious? I'm going to ignore all of that and write a blog post.

It's quite grey and gloomy here. Not cold, particularly; it's about 10 degC today, so yahboo sucks to all those who's first question on learning of where we live is 'isn't it freezing over there?' (Mind you I think I'll be less smug about the answer if you ask me the same thing come the end of the month). And it's good to be home.

Not so good though that I'm not looking ahead to next year; specifically to Saturday 25th June and the Cybermummy conference. I've made a leap of faith and have booked an early bird ticket -having enjoyed the last one so much I didn't want to miss out on the chance to do so again next time - but it did occur to me that there may be some people out there who didn't go to in July and are unsure what to expect if they go to the next one. And it would be a real shame if, because of that, they don't go; one of the fantastic things about mummy blogging is that there is a constant stream of new recruits as new parents come online in search of support / entertainment / ratification / escape / camaraderie and find it all of those and more through blogs.

This, then, is a post I wrote a few days after the first Cybermummy conference; as ever it's highly subjective as all it will give you is my personal point of view of the day. Then again, isn't all blogging essentially about an individual's point of view? In any case, maybe it will help encourage anyone unsure of what to expect from the next conference to make their own leap of faith and come along too...

July 6th, 2010

At the parent's in law, still in London. The sounds of 'Chitty Chitty Bang-Bang' drift out from the sitting room where the boys are spending a glorious morning ensconced in front of the box... (don't judge me; it's week 3 of the school holidays. WEEK 3! And it's only July 6th!) Every now and again Boy #1 bursts out into the dining room where I'm tapping away on the lap top to ask pertinent questions like 'It's the same man in this as in Mary Poppins. Does that mean that Bert has two jobs?' and to exclaim 'No! No!' when the pirates sail over the horizon. I'm currently on standby for when the odious Child Catcher appears since I have no doubt my presence will be required to ward off his advances...

It's all a very long way from Saturday when I joined 200 other delegates at the Cybermummy event in Earl's Court.

Nixdminx summed up the day pretty well for me in a post yesterday when she asked the question 'Cybermummy or Womanhood?' So many different women, so many different lifestyles, but all part of this phenomen and all giving a voice to their experiences of being a woman and a mother.

Before I started blogging I have to admit that I thought of bloggers as people who sought solace and companionship in cyberspace because they couldn't find it in the real world. Bloggers, I thought, probably didn't wash very much. The curtains on their homes were usually shut. They played fantasy games on the internet, and ate a lot of take-aways. They certainly didn't do the laundry, the school run, hold down a job,or juggle a family's schedule. Then - almost by mistake and entirely thanks to Pig in the Kitchen - I became a blogger myself, and suddenly the preconceptions that I had previously had became those of others about me, others who knew nothing about this new and vibrant world that I had stumbled into.

To start with, I didn't really tell anyone about my on-line life. I was worried what they might think of me (given my own previous prejudices, for example), I was worried that they might - the horror! - read what I wrote. But over time, I gained confidence and started to share with close friends what I was doing. I even told my Husband the address after a close friend of his took the trouble to find the blog on google (never forget; you might think your blog is anonymous but if it contains even a kernel of truth about your life, you're not. Bear that in mind when you hit publish...).

And then I took the final leap into linking my real-life with my on-line life; I met another blogger.

As I stood and waited for her to arrive I have to admit that I did wonder what the hell I was doing. One of the issues that seems to come up time and again for bloggers is the hypocrisy of repeatedly warning your older children about 'the weirdo's on the internet' and the absolute no-go of ever meeting them in person - and then going to do exactly that yourself. What if she turned out to be some sort of psycopath who bore no resemblance to the warm and witty person I knew online? What if she turned out to be some kind of internet stalker? What if this meeting turned into a special feature in The Daily Mail, a tale of horror, the apparently sympathetic tone of the article heavily underscored with the unspoken suggestion that 'she should have known better; no good can ever come from the interweb?'

Of course, that's not how it turned it out at all. Frog in the Field and I had a great time; so great in fact that when she roped me in to a special screening for mummy bloggers of 'Chuggington' a few weeks later I didn't hesitate to say yes. And that's where I met 'A Modern Mother', and Jo Beaufoix amongst others. A couple of weeks later when the former asked us to be part of a new ning she was setting up, instead of replying 'what on earth is a ning?' I answered yes, and that's how I ended up in Earl's Court on Saturday, surrounded by yet more warm and witty people who I had also met on the internet.

It was wonderful. For a start, everybody there had washed. There were no drawn curtains, no take-away cartons (at least, not during the day. I can't speak for later after a few glasses of wine had been consumed, obviously...) And I can't sum up my feelings about the day better than to quote something from an e-mail that a good friend of mine - who, whilst I had never met her in person before Saturday most definitely fits that description - sent afterwards, and which I think applies to just about everyone I spoke to at Cybermummy;

'I loved meeting you. You are so very YOU!'

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

Evening all...

Every Sunday when I sit down to write this post (oh, all right, most Sundays, when I'm not swept up in back to school fever like I was last week, for example), I take a look through my secret-oh-so-secret notes to see which of the new blogs I've checked out recently I would like to nominate as this week's reading. And then, just to check I haven't missed anyone new, I visit the British Mummy Blogger's Ning member's section and take a look through that and visit a few more.

Normally that takes a while. (Suffice it to say it's a good thing I only have access to Russian tv as I have no distractions to lure me away from the task in-hand. Well, it's either that or watching my way through the last series of '24' again and since I didn't stay awake the first time I watched it, well, thank god for blogging is all I can say...)

However, this evening on my visit to the BMB member's page I hit paydirt with only the second blog I visited...

We're at that stage in Boy #1's education where reading is moving from being a chore to him to something he loves. I'm a bookworm myself so it's a delight to me to see him with his head buried in a book, even if it is about Ben 10 or PowerRangers rather than something more edifying (he is only 6, after all). So any hints on finding new books for him to read - or for me to read to him - are gratefully received, which is why when I read this blog I was immediately interested.

Natasha Worswick writes that her blog is:

'...about lots of things really, but it tends to focus on children’s books (the ones I’ve enjoyed or not), the publishing industry, children’s marketing and tracking my son Milo’s reading habits.'

I liked her post about hospital books, and ideas of titles you can use to entertain children on long journeys. And as for the link to the Q&A page of Andrew Stanton's site - brilliant. I will definitely be adding his books to the Boys' collection.

For the British Mummy Blogger's Ning click here. (Note: it says 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too).

Sisters Under The Skin #blogladesh

If you are are a member of the British Mummy Bloggers community, I imagine that by now you will have picked up on the fact that 3 British bloggers have travelled out to Bangladesh with Save The Children to see for themselves the work that is being done there - and the work that still needs to be done. And if you are on Twitter, I can't imagine there's much chance of your having avoided the wealth of tweets with the #blogladesh hashtag that have been circulating for the last few weeks.

I'm not going to write here about their experiences; why paraphrase what has already been written about so honestly? You can keep up to date with their posts and tweets on their trip here, on The Save The Children site.

No, I just wanted to say how incredibly proud I am of these bloggers and what they are currently doing.

When I first heard about this trip I have to admit to feeling both envy that I wasn't going, and more than faint sense of apprehension on their behalf. To be pulled so far out of your comfort zone, to be confronted with the effects of poverty in such an in-your-face-manner, and to do that from behind the lucky side of the have/have-not division, well, that's got to be hard. I'm met all of these women; they're not saints, they're ordinary mums with families and jobs that they need to attend to, and yet they rose to the challenge offered to them by Save The Children and are out there right now, seeing it, feeling it, writing about it, for all of us who can't be there.

Why? Well, in the words of the Save The Children website:

Every year almost 9 million children under the age of five die. We can change that. Passionate about our work, our bloggers will be tweeting, creating video and photogalleries and writing about their experiences live and direct.

How you can help

Nick Clegg will be at the UN Summit in New York at the end of September with a crucial opportunity to ensure world leaders re-commit to the Millennium Development Goals - which are currently way off track.

Make as much noise as possible. Follow our bloggers on their journey, watch their videos and re-tweet their story.

Press for change. Help us collect 100,000 thumbprints. Together we can stop the scandal of 9 million child deaths a year.

I've shown my support and signed the petition at Press for Change; and if you haven't already, I hope you can find it in yourself to do the same.

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I've got that back to school feeling. Not surprising, I suppose; after the initial boost at getting home, being surrounded by my own stuff again, and being a little more in control of my own destiny, it's hit me that my 7 week vacation is over and now that Husband has gone back to work and there are no grandparents around to help take the strain, it's just me and the Boys.

The Boys, and me.

Oh, and the great pile of papers that has built up over the summer and which - once we finally get round to buying a filing cabinet - needs to be stowed away before I go MAD with the clutter... I can't believe we've managed without proper storage for it all in the 6 months since we got here, but I suppose the extra wide window sills in our Russian dacha had to be used for something. Having said that, I discovered on our return that Husband has now filled the available window space downstairs and co-opted the ones in our bedroom as additional filing space, and whilst I'm no feng-shui disciple, enough is enough. A filing cabinet it must be, and fast.

There's something about imposing a little order on the administrative crap in our lives, isn't there? Which is perhaps why I've been drawn to this British Mummy Blogger of the Week. TheImperfectionist - who's tag line is 'ticking one item off the to-do list... and adding four more on the bottom' - writes of herself that she is:

'Organising a family and realising that I'm not Mary Poppins, tragically.'

I love her recent post on entertaining the imperfect way, and foresee many happy hours using the weird converter on snowy afternoons when they start in here, sometime around the end of September, probably...

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note: it says 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

It's exhausting, this holiday malarky. No matter how good a time you're having, I have to ask; is 'holiday' the best word to describe a trip away that takes military levels of organisation and which sometimes feels just like being at home - only without the convenience of a working washing machine and internet connection?

On top of that you also have to take responsibility for the packing and repacking of your stuff, the kid's stuff and - if you're particularly unlucky / saintly (delete as appropriate) - your significant other's stuff too. Small wonder that often trying to buy, and then find space in your luggage for, all the blockbusting summer novels that you promised yourself you're going to have the chance to read on your 'relaxing' summer holiday, gets prioritised down to a last minute dash to the bookshop in Duty Free...

For those who have small children, are not holidaying with benevolent grandparents attached as doting babysitters, and who have forgotten what it is to sit in the sun with a good book, I'm talking about the books you read in the time you have to yourself.

You know, on your relaxing summer holiday? Time, that is, when you're not making trips to the local supermarket hunting for non-sugar rich breakfast cereal whilst sneaking a croissant or two yourself (it won't show under the control-top swimsuit, surely?), tidying away explosions of beach kit scattered like shrapnel immediately inside the front door, drying out towels and swim suits stiff with salt or chlorine, hunting for the kid's sun lotion, applying said sun lotion, persuading them that wearing their hat in 35degC IS a good idea (I said it IS a good idea, well I don't care if you don't like it; you're wearing it anyway, and stand STILL please whilst I put this factor 50 on you or you'll get it... all over my skirt), and so on.

Which is why I'm being extremely lazy and rather than trawling the members list of British Mummy Bloggers to find you something new to read this week, I thought I would instead gift you (yes, I like that word; 'gift'. It implies great sacrifice on my part rather than simply pulling out a post I wrote earlier for this very occasion) with a full list of ALL the British Mummy Bloggers to-date.

Who needs to pick up a chic-lit novel the width and weight of a telephone directory, when you have the following list? With one click-through you can have access to writing far better than you'll find on most airport bestsellers' lists...

May 2009

http://noblesavage.me.uk/

http://motherhoodthefinalfrontier.com/

http://singleparentdad.blogspot.com/

http://mightymother.info/

June 2009

http://gritsday.blogspot.com/

http://califlorna.com/

http://www.moretolifethanlaundry.com/

http://blogiota.blogspot.com/

July 2009

http://slightlysouthofsanity.blogspot.com/

http://www.britoutofwater.com/

http://aconfusedtakethatfan.blogspot.com/

August 2009

http://sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/

http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/

http://babieswhobrunch.blogspot.com/

http://britsinbosnia.blogspot.com/

September 2009

http://www.appleislandlife.blogspot.com/

http://hotcrossmum.blogspot.com/

http://www.perfectlyhappymum.com/

http://clinicallyfedup.com/

October 2009

http://troutie.blogspot.com/

http://littlegreenfingers.typepad.com/little_green_fingers

MWA online

November 2009

http://isthereaplanb.blogspot.com/

http://www.everydaystranger.net/

http://monavismesamis.blogspot.com/

http://usebefore.blogspot.com/

http://kittymoore.blogspot.com/

December 2009

http://missustd.blogspot.com/

http://notwavingbutironing.wordpress.com/


January 2010

Saffia Farr

February 2010

The Rubbish Diet

Deerbaby

All That Comes With It

March 2010

Notes from Lapland

Fiona Strachan

Reluctant Memsahib,

April 2010

Paparazzi Mum

1950's Housewife

Knackered Mother

Forty Not Out


May 2010

Thankyou for the Days

Marketing To Milk
Country Lite
My Mummy Wrote this For Me
Frazzled Daddy


June 2010

Four Down, Mum to Go?
Beauty Judge Blog
Planet Outreach-ASD


July 2010

Belgravia Wives
Ladybird World Mother

The Coffee Lady

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note; it's called 'mummy', but dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I am not a 'crafty' person. Oh, I might occasionally throw some paper and glitter around with the Boys admittedly, and whilst I was growing up my poor parents probably had more than their fair share of salt-dough decorations weighing down the branches of the Christmas tree. Oh, and there was that two-year sojourn in the land of the macrame artiste, when members of the family and various unfortunate friends were given strings of scratchy hemp fashioned into pot holders, wall hangings and yet more pot holders...

Nowadays, though, whilst I like the concept of craft for it's own sake, it's not something I generally get around to much. Which is why, when I come across a blog that touches on this subject I am held in thrall. How do they do it, these women who run up a dress in an evening, an ottoman cover in a day, and artfully distress a chest of drawers over a weekend?

She doesn't only write about this, but being crafty is something that I know holds no fear for this week's recommended Mummy Blogger. The Coffee Lady writes of herself:

'I am Trying New Things. I am turning off my cynicism and sarcasm and turning my face up like an amazed flower towards the wonder and joy of life. Well, I'll give it a go at least.'

She and Santa are like that. Hell, she even knows what to do with felt. And guess what? There's an ottoman in her bedroom that wasn't delivered looking like this by John Lewis...

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note: it says 'Mummy' but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

A speedy update this morning. A post on this week's British Mummy Blogger of the Week puts me in mind of something I did when I was a young and callow student, and really should have known better...

My boyfriend of the time (previously referred to as Sporty Boy on this blog) was just about to move into a new house with some of his friends. Bearing mind that we were all students, you can imagine the standard of accommodation I'm talking about; mould on the shower curtains, rats in the bins outside, slugs on the kitchen floor. Basically, it was the pits. My girlfriends and I, two of whom I lived with and who's boyfriends were also part of this new house set-up (so far, so 'Friends') in Disgusting-on-Thames, held a war cabinet.

There was no way, we decided, that we were going to spend any time in a conditions like those. But that meant our boyfriends would then spend all their time at ours, and that wasn't going to fly either; a flat that just about held 4 of us would not reasonably hold 8. What to do?

Well, there was only one thing to do. We offered to clean the new house from top to bottom. On a one-off basis, for a fee (I believe it was the princely sum of £20 each - which 20-odd years ago was actually not so bad...). Of course these boys jumped at the chance, and as they moved all their kit and caboodle in, we put pegs on our noses and set to.

Dear internet, it was disgusting - and I say that having had a job cleaning caravans after they had been occupied by groups of fishermen, as a teenager. It's Monday so I won't make you dry-heave into your morning coffee, but I'm sure you can imagine the filth we had to deal with. The most horrific part, however? Dealing with the smug look on our boyfriends faces when they told us they would pay us 'tomorrow'...

This week's BMB of the Week would, I'm sure, never do anything as foolish as willingly clean out a student loo. Unless, of course, the student in question happened to be her son. Ladybird World Mother writes of herself:

'Am a Mother. To four children. Am a Wife. To one Husband. Live a chaotic, task-filled life, where nothing is ever tidy enough, clean enough or paid enough. Despite that, there are moments of great contentment. I try to write about the things in my life that make me spit out my tea. And any biscuit lurking. I LOVE this life. But sometimes I yearn for a clean and tidy one.'

Check out her posts about student loos and chicken-lovin' rabbits if you need to raise a smile this - or any other - morning...

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning click here (Note; it says 'mummy', but dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I'm in London, recovering after a flight over here on my own with the Boys on Friday, and yesterday's Cybermummy event in Earl's Court. This is a British Mummy Blogger of the week post, I promise, but first two other things...

1. Friday's noteable quote came from Boy #2 on the plane, when he was introducing me to a four-year old flame-haired almond-eyed temptress who had ensnared him in a game of mutual tongue sticking out and tummy flashing. (She started it. I swear). Once the courtship ritual I described above was completed (and is it really so different from what happens when we get older, I wonder?), he decided to introduce me to her. We eyed each other warily, as Boy #2 said "And this, this is my mummy. But her stage name is Clare*."

My stage name? I was torn. Part of me wanted to ask where on earth he heard that expression. And the other part wanted to say "Oh darling. That's not right. My stage name is Potty..."

* Clare is of course not my real name, as you will know if you were actually at yesterday's fabulous Cybermummy event, and which leads me neatly onto the second thing I wanted to note...

2. Whilst there will no doubt be a 'proper post' on my Cybermummy experience on The Potty Diaries in the near future, it's not today. Instead, I just want to say that I am inordinately proud of myself for not running up to any number of the fabulous bloggers that I met in person for the first time yesterday and saying, in true hysterical woman fashion 'I bloody love your blog, I do...'

So. This week's recommended reading. I've decided not to put up an attendee from yesterday as I suspect that anyone who didn't go will be heartily sick of hearing those who did waxing lyrical about it. Instead, I'm going to recommend a relative newcomer to the BMB ning. Belgravia Wife of Belgravia Wives writes of herself:

'Mother of three, have to say, particularly dinky children. Central London resident, baffled by the whole school business - school fees vs. home schooling - let's talk ! Freelance head-hunter- working with clients who have loyally stayed by my side throughout three bouts of baby induced uselessness. Writer - novel coming along - nicely....somewhere else. In fact writing quite a few novels - just not particularly quickly.'

Check out her posts for musings on goats in yurts and living in London - although not at the same time, obviously - and for delicious menu ideas to boot.

(And in the interests of full disclosure, I do actually know Belgravia Wife in real life. But don't hold that against her, please...)

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (And it says 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I had a long waffle planned for tonight about rewriting history. But I'm afraid it's just too dam' hot here (a week of +30degC will do that to a person), and I'm dreaming of cold baths and sea breezes, (amazingly, not the alcoholic kind - it's too hot for any of that nonsense) so I'm just going to jump right into the point of this post.

This week's recommended reading, Jean of PlanetOutreach-ASD, writes of herself:

'I am an ordinary mum of 3 great kids, whose life became extraordinary when my youngest son was diagnosed with autism at the age of 3. '

She writes of her struggles with dealing with a world that treats people with disabilities with contempt alongside posts about maturity and grumpiness, and whilst - as ever - this a purely subjective recommendation, if you've enjoyed any of the blogs that I've pointed you to in the past, I defy you not to like Jean's writing.

That's it. No wittering today - I'm off to cool down. Where's that fan?

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note; we're called 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I am a Bad Wife. Why? Because I. Forgot. Father's. Day.

Oh, I can blame the hangover that I'm still experiencing from the party to end all parties on Friday night, of course I can. No further proof of the ageing process kicking in is needed than that I forgot the cardinal rule not to mix my drinks. Starting an evening with vodka cocktails, moving onto white wine and then indulging in more vodka (we do live in Russia, after all) was a sure fire recipe for a messed-up weekend.

Oh, and also a sure-fire recipe for a rather nasty bruise on my right hip from when, sauntering home from the same party to release the baby-sitter at far too-late-o'clock, and struggling to calculate what 5 hours x 250 Roubles + 500 for her taxi home actually was, I lost concentration for a moment and fell off my previously perfect new Campers' wedges. (And as any wedge wearer out there knows, once you start to topple in those babies, there ain't no way to stop until you hit the ground...). Luckily I had already left the party at that point so none of my fellow-guests saw me.

Unluckily, all the staff from the party - caterers, security guards from the compound, drivers of other guests and who knows who-else - were having a smoking convention just about where my fall from grace happened. I tried to style it out -that seemed like a good idea through the vodka-induced haze - and probably made myself look even more ridiculous in the process; springing up, brushing myself down and scampering (well, swaying, anyway) home as fast as my two wedge-encumbered feet could carry me.

So this evening has been spent blog-surfing in an effort to forget my twin shames of the Fall Which Shall Not Be Referred To Again, and of forgetting Father's Day. Although in my defence, Husband arrived home from the same party even later than I did and is only now recovering from his own vodka excess, hunched on the sofa and taking refuge in re-watching the last series of '24' since there's no football to be had on Russian tv right now. I might have preferred to watch our borrowed copy of Mamma Mia, but who am I to complain? I forgot Father's Day*, after all...

Anyway, British Mummy Blogger of the Week. (Apologies for the long preamble. I clearly felt the need to purge...)

This week's Mummy Blogger, Joyce McNicoll of Beauty Judge Blog, writes of herself:

'I like to champion the little guy. I love beauty products which do what they promise (whether made by a little guy or a big guy!) I like cunning ways to get more for your money and random goings-on in the beauty world'

I love her most recent post about weird and wacky beauty products (bacon-flavoured lip-balm, anyone?), and her signpost (geddit?) to ShopPulse is a reminder to me that checking out new blogs is ALWAYS worthwhile... OK, so I'm not likely to wear what's on there (Browns was my preferred eye-candy today), but a blogger can dream, right?

Note: For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (And it's called 'Mummy' but Dads can be members too...)

* Fathers Day will be celebrated in this house, just on a rescheduled date, when I've had the chance to dig out the card I bought in London two weeks ago and have unearthed the presents and pictures that the Boys brought home from school at around the same time, both of which I hid safely away so that they would be ready for today. You see? It never pays to be too organised...

Stupid is as stupid says...

On Friday I wrote about being English. Given the England football team's lacklustre performance in South Africa on Saturday night, I might shelve that one for a while...

Reading Susanna's British Mummy Bloggers update this morning, I came across a couple of posts on MummyTips written by Sian and her husband. They were about racism.

Living in Russia, where racism is a part of daily life if you are anything other than caucasian, I have so much to say on this subject, yet on the surface I'm not personally affected by this issue. I'm white, British, middle-class and privileged, no question about it. You think?

Dig a little a deeper and it's not that simple. I think my family's ethnicity is probably not so different from many people's in the UK; many people who, in fact, might unthinkingly use some of those thoughtlessly racist terms that Sian and her husband mention. A 'chinky' to refer to a chinese take-way. An 'Indian-giver' to refer to someone who gives with one hand and takes away with another. In the Netherlands, calling someone 'East Indian deaf' if they pretend not to hear what you're saying. A 'Paki-shop', to refer to a corner shop owned and managed by Asian shopkeepers. The list of casually abusive racist terms in common use is endless - and none of them are acceptable.

And a lot of them, in fact, may be a lot closer to your own personal heritage than you might think. I'm going to use myself as a case study to illustrate...

So, I look like this. Dark hair, olive to medium-fair complexion, brown eyes, and I burn before tanning - although then I do go pretty brown. In fact, I'm hard to place; I could come from any number of countries probably, which is actually not far from the truth.

My maternal grandmother, for example, looks Spanish. My uncle and cousins - her grandchildren - look like Moors. You could parachute them into Morocco, Algeria, Turkey, Egypt, Israel, the Lebanon, and they would fit right in. We always assumed that this was because there was a link to Spanish sailors who survived the wreck of the Armada on the South Coast of England, and their very Catholic family name seemed to bear this out. However, this theory appears to bear very little relation to actual fact (especially because the wreck of the Armada took place on the coast of Ireland rather than Dorset, and most of the sailors who survived the wreck were then killed by the Irish).

The truth behind our dark eyes and hair is both more interesting and more recent than that, as my mother found out when she made a first attempt at putting together a family tree. It seems that as recently as the beginning of the last century, my great-great-grandparents were Romany travellers. We can't be sure of this, because historically once a family left that part of their lifestyle behind them they did their absolute best to hide it due to the shameful connotations involved, but based on parish records and census information we are as certain as we can be that that's the case.

And my paternal grandmother's maiden name was as Irish as they come, due to the fact that - again, we only think, we don't know, and she certainly never discussed her family's heritage - her family left Ireland during the Great Potato Famine and moved to the north of England where they made a life and a fortune, only to lose the latter in cotton when the UK market crashed after the 1st World War.

So, let's see. Without going back more than 100 years or so - only 4 generations - there are Irish and Gypsies in my ostensibly more English than English background. Both of whom, whilst I was growing up in ignorance of this, were the frequent butt of what was seen at the time as acceptable mockery (thank god, we've moved on since then).

Now, let's throw my blue-eyed Dutch husband into the mix. His family - as I've probably mentioned before - is much more complicated than mine, and includes Dutch, German, Russian, Indonesian, and Chinese heritage. And that's what we know about.

And just to cap it all, when my older son was born he had (and still has) a birth-mark which one of the doctors in the hospital told us is typical in shape and location of children with African genes, and when my younger son was born and for the first year of his life he had the dark blue bruise at the base of his spine which I'm told is also typical of children with that heritage. Where did they come from? Who knows, but my point - I hope - is clear; we're all a composite of different ethnicities and backgrounds. Dig deep enough and no-one is 'only' from one place; whether you like it or not we're all related.

Please, think about that before you turn a blind eye to casually racist terminology. Not so long ago it was acceptable, for example, to call some-one wearing glasses 'speccy four eyes', a clumsy person a 'spastic', a supposedly ugly or not very bright person a 'mong'. Thankfully - at least in my experience - most of these terms have now slipped out of public usage; it's one of the positive side-effects of political correctness. And now, just as our mothers did with those terms and us, we're in the perfect position whilst raising our kids to make sure that terms like those which Sian and her family have experienced disappear just the same way.

You might think that you know your family's heritage like the back of your hand, but do you, really? Just a few generations ago, it could have been you - or your children - on the receiving end of this stupidity.

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

Whenever Husband and I, in the sweet ignorance of youth, spoke about having children (before we actually did, that is), we always said that we wanted either two, or four. I know that three kids is a good number - that's how many there were in both of our families, in fact - but we felt that sometimes - just sometimes - the dynamic worked out as 2 plus one, and that it was usually the same 'one' who was left on the outside.

So, two or four. That's what we believed we wanted, and continued to do until Boy #2 arrived and suddenly the wheels fell off our well-worked out plans when it became clear that having 2 children didn't just double the work, it tripled it. (For us, at any rate). There was of course also the small fact that we weren't getting any younger and if we kept the same spacing - approximately 2 years between each child - I would be 43 before our 4th child arrived (always assuming that everything went smoothly and things went to plan, which of course was highly unlikely).

So we stopped at 2 boys. And whilst I'm (mostly) OK with that, I do wonder from time to time what it would have been like to have a tribe of boys rather than just the two (because you just know, don't you, that they would all have been boys.) Luckily for me, however, there are plenty of bloggers out there who can tell me what larger families than mine get up to, and this week's recommended British Mummy Blogger is one of them. 'FourDownMumToGo' writes of herself:

'Do you know, I never liked children (I still don't some days). I never rushed across the office to wrest newborns from the arms their frazzled mothers taking a brief break from maternity leave, resisted the pleas of tiny relatives to read them stories and failed to earn a penny babysitting during my misspent teenage years, so just how did I end up mum to four boys? And more importantly just how will I cope without the assistance of round the clock childcare or at the very least a lifetime supply of Gordons and tonic?'

You have to love a writer who so neatly encapsulates the pang of saying goodbye to early motherhood with the regret that she will never again 'trail out of a hospital dragging foil helium balloons and a car seat filled with the rest of my life'.

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (Note: it's called 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

So it's Sunday evening already. The Boys are in bed, the washing up is done (well, actually it's not, but for the purposes of this post let's pretend that there is a quietly efficient maid in the kitchen who has cleared all the debris of our dinner away... What? A woman can dream, can't she?), and the sun is still high in the sky in the way it usually is at 9.00pm in the Russian summer. Husband and I are sitting at our dining room table tapping away on our laptops, both hoping that the other is going to get up soon and do something about the afore-mentioned washing up.

No doubt I will cave first...

It must, then, be time for this week's recommended British Parent Blogger. Who is it? Aha - you picked up on that clue - my use of the world 'parent' rather than 'mummy'. This week's tip, Matt at Frazzled Daddy, writes of himself:

'My name is Matt and I'm a dad. I wanted to blog about how hapless we are as parents but how those moments of intense frustration or feelings of helplessness can be unbelievably, ball-bouncingly funny. My experience of being a parent is that your always a heartbeat away from utter calamity and therein lies the magic.'

He's just started writing posts that recreate food from his favourite childhood fiction (can I suggest you check out 'It's the Bear!' for a picnic that's hard to beat here, FD?), and even though he's 6 years younger than I am, his list of why he's feeling old sounds far too familiar...

For the British Mummy Blogger Ning, click here. (Note: It says 'Mummy', but as should be clear from today's post, Dads can be members too...

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

Sunday morning. In reality, it's actually afternoon where I am now, but the time clock on my laptop actually tells me it's only 9.22am, since in an effort to feel connected to my former life, I've left it's default time setting as GMT... (I know, that doesn't exactly show commitment to our Russia adventure. So sue me...)

I'm all about the zeigeist, me (oh yes, I have my car radio - in the UK - tuned to Xfm, I amtotally down with the cool kids), so I thought I'ld fill you in a new type of Blogger event in town. In case you hadn't noticed, it's the photo based carnival. The one that I've been participating in is the brainchild of Tara over at Sticky Fingers; each week she suggests a theme, and each week those participating post a photograph that fits and some words to go with it.

What's that got to do with British Mummy Blogger of the Week, I hear you ask? Well, this is a great way to discover writers who's blogs I haven't happened across yet (or recently). This week's theme - self portrait - was a tough one for many (if, unlike me, you didn't take the easy option of simply pointing your camera at the mirror), and resulted in some amazing posts. One that particularly stood out for me was this one, written by Audrey Horne of the blog 'My Mummy wrote this for me'. Her 'about me' blurb on BMB says:

'I'm a happily co-habiting mother of one five year old son, indie-type, NHS librarian living in the wilds of West Yorkshire. I've recently recovered from breast cancer and am now hopefully getting back to normal life.'

I particularly recommend you check out her post on being beaten in the downhill race whilst masquerading as Blaze, an attractive purple fox... Whilst I would love to say that in the same circumstances I would be the epitome of a good natured loser, I have to admit that there may well be a good reason why we don't yet have a Wii...

For the British Mummy Bloggers ning, click here. Note: it's called 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

So I checked in on the British Mummy Bloggers Ning today to have a trawl through some new members (oh yes, it's me, that visitor from Russia who appears on your stats page every now and again), and happened to glance at the number of members.

1308.

One thousand, three hundred and eight.

That's pretty impressive for a network that started with 5 members just over a couple of years back. (Susanna, I bow down before you). And there are some amazing writers in that number - so many in fact that my consumption of rubbish paperbacks has declined by about 90% since I started reading them all. Lots of them are recent additions to the Ning, but some are not, and it occurred to me that things have changed since I started blogging. I mean, when I first dipped my toe in the water, it was easy to find people to follow; you just simply checked the blogroll of other bloggers, and zero'ed in on those listed that you liked.

Nowadays though, with the vast numbers of us putting our thoughts out there, it's not that simple, so I thought that this week I would highlight one of my long-term favourites who I personally think is fantastic, but who some more recently active bloggers might not yet have picked up on.

(Of course, that's just my personal opinion - that she's fantastic - but then, isn't this post always?)

So this week's recommendation is that you check out Milla at Country Lite. She writes of her blog that it is mainly:

'Being the kind and wise thoughts of one who lives overlooking a field but within ten minutes of Waitrose, featuring E, T12 and F10 and far too much of a ghastly bag of fur called Lolly.'

Check out her accounts of dealing with blown fuse in her car if you have a moment and have been practising your pelvic floor exercises so are not too worried about laughing really hard. (Please note: she doesn't post as much as I might like. And yes, Milla, that is a hint.)

For the British Mummy Bloggers Ning, click here. (It's called 'Mummy', but Dads can be members too...)

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

I'm posting this week's BMB of the Week early as tomorrow it's Victory Day here in Russia, and we're going out to see the celebrations and join in the fun. Which you should, of course, expect to hear all about on this blog next week...

I've been clothes shopping today, for the first time in Moscow. This is not as simple an exercise as it sounds - stick a premium of at least 50% and more often 100% on a lot of brands you recognise from back home - but I managed to buy 3 tops and (thank GOD) some new shoes. Thank GOD on the shoes, because I left all my summer ones in London and as it warms up the appeal of putting on winter boots for yet another day has begun to pall somewhat.

Also, the option of wearing some pretty sandals or sneakers has vastly opened up the chances of my wearing some of my summer clothes (the ones I remembered to pack, anyway). Again, jeans are all very well but it's 25degC here today (bet you never thought you would read that from a blogger in Moscow), and since our house doesn't have airco, well, it's best for everyone that I dress a little more coolly...

On top of which, anything which means I can minimise my time spent in shops is a good thing, not only because it's so galling being faced with the requirement to spend $100 to buy a pair of sandals from Zara or similar. It's also because, like this week's recommended British Mummy Blogger, I hate changing rooms with a passion.

Henrietta Pretty of From Marketing To Milk writes of herself:

'One day i woke up and Mrs Digital Marketing Manager had somehow become Mrs “no my son can’t swim yet, and i’m not sending him to french lessons with Daphne”. I decided to write this blog to chart my journey from successful career girl to stay at home mum, with a little bit of what i think about stuff along the way.'

Take a look at her musings on changing rooms and how the ageing process affects everyone but us - we like to think - and enjoy.

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

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

It's Sunday night, and I'm sitting here watching and listening to the most monumental thunderstorm here in Moscow. It's at times like these as I bustle round the house unplugging computers and telephones that I realise how 'middle-age' is no longer a far off event that might happen to me some time in the future, but a real-time, in your face car-crash that can't be avoided any more. Of course, it's not as if I don't have this realisation every day during that first horrific look in the mirror every morning after I put my contact lenses in but before I have the chance to apply any mascara, but I can usually lose that thought in amongst the sandwich-making, boy-wrangling, traffic-negotiating fun that happens shortly afterwards.

(Note to self; ignore thunderstorms in future.)

This week's British Mummy Blogger, Hari Vaudrey of Thankyou for the Days, writes of herself:

I'm a hypnotherapist and I have three children, 7, 4 and 2. I live in a village in Oxon, UK. I spent many years travelling before I settled down and got divorced... I'm looking for a pyramid selling scheme where I'm at the top. So send me a tenner and forward this to all of your friends.

I recommend you take a look; if nothing else you may, like me, find a couple more uses for baking soda that you didn't know of and which your middle-aged brain might decide to file away for future use...

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

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

Sunday morning - and I'm off to help out at an event at school shortly. This is a bit of a minefield, not in the sense of 'will I know anyone?', or even 'how long will this take and when can I get back home to continue my rock and roll lifestyle of weekend laundry and tidying up?', but more in the sense of 'what the hell shall I wear?'

Since arriving in Moscow, I'm ashamed to admit that I have not been at my finest, sartorially speaking. When we first arrived, warmth and practicality were everything, and my skirts and high-heeled boots languished unnoticed at the back of my wardrobe for some time. Now that the weather is improving, it's proving difficult to get what little fashion mo-jo I ever had back in action, and this situation is further exacerbated by the fact that my normal shopping haunts are 1500 miles away. Sure, there are shops here, of course there are, but many of them sell clothes that are just - to put it politely - not me.

So a trip back to London to refresh my wardrobe is called for, but that then leaves me with the over-riding question; if the clothes on offer here are not me, what actually is?

So I've been hunting around the internet for inspiration, and that's when I came across this week's British Mummy Blogger of the Week. (I know, last week wine, this week fashion. Anyone else out there thinking that I really need a weekend away?) ThatGirl39 at Forty Not Out writes of herself:

'Inside of the mind of this woman is still That Girl. I used to be '39 and Counting' but now I'm all grown up! Follow me into Life Part Two and watch as I navigate parenthood, an ever growing shoe collection, fine lines and whatever else is in store. Ooh... did someone say store? Does it sell shoes?/

And whilst I might not be in right shape or price bracket for Michael Kors' slick creations just now, or Loboutins to wear on the school run, it never hurts to look and dream for a while, right?

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

British Mummy Blogger of the Week

It's all very well, this learning Russian business, but it doesn't help with the latest language dilemma I'm coming up against, which is; in all your conversations about That Volcano in Iceland (and I'm betting you'll have had at least a couple over the last day or so) have you ever actually heard anyone call it by name? It's FULL name?

I haven't. So I've looked it up, and here it is, just in case you missed it:

Eyjafjallajokull

Now, try and pronounce it. And then try and pronounce nonchalantly, as you might in a conversation.

'Ayafjalalalalallskul'

See what I mean?

'Eyejaphjalolokil...'

No, I still can't get it right...

Moving swiftly on... This week's Mummy Blogger of the Week concerns herself with something close, I'm sure, to many bloggers hearts. No, not chocolate (for a change). If you're anything like me I'm sure when you reach the BWS aisle in the supermarket (that's Beers, Wines and Spirits for those of you who have never had a job as a shelf-stacker), you probably do one of the following.

Option 1: Reach for the wine you know and love and which has never let you down. You'ld quite like to try something new but where on earth would you start?

Option 2: Look around for the latest BOGOFF (buy one get one free offer), 3 for 2 offer (speaks for itself), or whatever you saw recommended by that chirpy chap on BBC's Saturday Kitchen to go with the nice curry that James cooked this week.

Option 3: Simply pick up whatever looks most palatable in your price range.

Well, fear not, help is at hand. This week's Mummy Blogger, Knackered Mother, writes of herself:

'Love my three children and love my wine. Used to be a professional wine buyer for a big supermarket. Spent best part of a decade travelling the globe sniffing out wines for a living. Spent most of the last half-decade pregnant. Now work for a rather brilliant wine company. Want to share wine knowledge in the hope that other knackered mothers are interested in what's in my glass at the end of the day. Strictly no insipid wines allowed. Unless too tired to care.'

At the end of each short and entertaining post she gives us her opinions on (mostly) reasonably priced wine - and occasionally, on the must-have accessories for a lady to take to Venice with her for her 10th wedding anniversary trip...

'Eyjafjalladjojokull'

Nope. Still not right...

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