redundant...

Not only has Arlo decided he no longer needs to sit on my knee for his bedtime story, he's now decided he's going to read his bedtime story himself.

Sheesh. Talk about giving Mummy a complex!

In other news:

We're continuing nicely along the brightly lit pathway of Arlo and the Amazing Mood (have we turned a corner? Are we out of the Terrible Twos? Yeah - I can hear you parents chuckle and scoff, I was only asking! A girl can dream, can't she?!)

Since the Sublime Sunshiney Seasidey Sunday, Arlo has decided he wants to use his potty. Great news. I'm pretty sure the bedroom carpet was delighted by the giant tolley that landed on it this morning for the first of (several) near misses today.

One of my bloody jobs is definitey ending next month. I would've been kept on if the Tories hadn't come into power and sent out a memo entitled 'How to Royally Fuck The Cornwalls Again' and slashed loads of funding at my office. Nice one, you twats.

On the plus side, though, I am looking forward to writing my economics book in the next few years entitled 'The Great Recession of the early 21st century...How One Household Took the Brunt for The Greater Good'

or...

'How To Survive A Recession By Only Drinking 2 Bottles of Wine a Night'.

or...

'How To Lose Your Job More Times Than Your Sanity'

So I will be fine. I just need to find a good publisher...