Living the dream

So this happened…

Hanging up the Dyson

Dear Dyson,

I know we have only been together a short time, but I feel as though we have grown apart over the last few weeks.

To begin with, you were everything I had ever needed. The strong silent type who satisfied all my needs and then went on your way. Now things are changing. I have tried to keep you happy and the SFD has done his best to keep you in work by shedding his coat on a constant loop. But, your whining and needy behaviour (I mean, who needs to be emptied after every use, really?) has begun to wear thin.

The fact is, and I’m sorry if it sounds harsh, I just don’t need you in my life anymore.

Goodbye sweet Dyson, it’s not you it’s me!



Seven days until removals!

The bear necessities.

I am so over this packing thing! So incredibly over it, that today I have had to adopt a theme tune to keep me going. Can you guess what it is?

Over the last few days our walls and shelves have become bare, while our sheds become crammed with boxes. Only the essentials are left to pack. We’re almost there, but I may lose the plot long before that!

Eleven days until removals!

And for those of you who guessed right and started humming a certain song on reading the title of this post, you’re welcome. Bear Necessities!

The travelling SFD!

The boxes are building up and the face on the SFD says it all;

“Again, with the boxes, really?”



This old boy has been with us since a few months after we got married, 14 years ago and he must be one of the most well travelled dogs alive. Where we go, he goes! The boxes come out, he gives a big old “Hmmph!” and resigns himself to yet another move. However, this time will benefit him massively. He will have no more steps for his old, arthritic legs to contend with and he will be able to spend his days lying on the terrace in the beautiful, warm sunshine. I can’t wait to get him to Spain, he deserves this as much as any of us.

Twelve days until removals!

The countdown continues…


I despised it when I was at school and now that I live in a constant cycle of wash, dry, iron, repeat I despise it even more. What am I talking about? The dreaded school uniform.


Each evening, no matter how prepared I am on a Sunday with the whole wash, dry blah, blah, bleurgh, I still seem to end up rushing around trying to get different parts of the Dandelion’s uniforms ready for the following day.

Well, that pile of ever increasing school uniform in my kitchen will soon be a thing of the past. Five more school days until they break up for Easter and that will be the end of my school uniform woes forever. Espana and no uniform here we come!

Sixteen days until removals.



Kicking Monday’s butt!

Monday, feared by so many. That bitch comes along every week and knocks us clean off our feet when we really aren’t ready for it. Well, not this week Monday.

Monday butt kicking tools at the ready…


Eighteen, count them, EIGHTEEN (!) days until removals.

So many questions.

Since we set a date to make our move to Spain I have been inundated with questions about the whole process, mainly regarding the Dandelions and how they are coping with the idea. It seems folks just can’t seem to grasp that the Dandelions are as excited about this as we are. It doesn’t make sense to people that the children would be happy with moving to another country.

Of course, we have to first bear in mind that our children were born into the forces world and although they may no longer be part of that world, some things have stuck with them. One of the main things being the ability to adapt to and embrace change, to see every new situation as an adventure. They have moved several times in their short lives and each time they have moved into the new life with something that forces children carry in abundance- flexibility.

I’m not for a minute suggesting that it isn’t difficult for them, I would be a pretty clueless Mum if I thought it didn’t affect them at all. And yes, we do second guess ourselves and whether we are doing the right thing for them. Yet, as soon as we see their faces light up when they are talking about the move, everything falls into place.

I suppose the most important thing that has kept them on board throughout this whole process is that they have been involved from the very beginning. All discussion, planning, five years worth of house hunting, endless hours driving around all the different villages to see what facilities they have, boring paper work meetings where they have waited (not always) patiently for hours etc have been done as a family. They have witnessed and had their say in even the minutest of details. We have listened to them and taken their opinions into consideration at every turn.

Nothing has been sugar coated, we have been up front and honest with them every step of the way. We sat them down and explained to them that school is going to be a lot of hard work for a while, but that we will be there to help them through it. We have told them about the things we will be able to do for them in Spain that we can’t afford to do here- things such as horse riding lessons and summer sports camps that cost the Earth in this country. They have spent time in the area we are moving to and already have friends there.

So yes, they are obviously going to miss their friends and family and it’s not going to be all plain sailing. We are in for some tough times ahead, but we will take the rough with the smooth. We have made this decision as a family and we are all confident that it is the right decision for us.

8th March 2011

My memories today on Facebook took me back to this day five years ago when the Hubster left for Afghanistan on the tour that changed our lives forever. Little did we know that we would only get just about half way through before an injury brought him home.

Every major event in our lives since has revolved around the fact that this day happened. For so long we were coasting through a long and very dark tunnel. Huge changes and too many ups and downs to count. The biggest change of course was the Hubster’s injury, the effects of which will be with us forever. There are other things however, that we now control ourselves and it may have taken a period of adjustment, but not being in the army bubble anymore is now one of the most positive parts of our lives, because it means that we are finally realising our Spanish Dream.

Yesterday we booked flights for the journey. Twenty five days to go!

How many days?

It looks as though today is shaping up to be a “Dinoboy wearing his Harry Potter cloak with the hood up, Zoom wearing his (Gorilla) dressing gown with the hood up and both of them charging from room to room, while wielding Tink’s recorders, making lightsaber noises, pretending to be Jedi” kind of day.

Fantastic use of the imagination I know, but there just isn’t enough room in this house for two recorder wielding Jedi!

Thirty two days until I can kick them out into a nice sunny “2900 square metres” (the hubster’s favourite thing to say right now)  of garden to play Jedi to their heart’s content.



Dream a little dream

Yesterday I somehow managed to develop the neck injury from hell. No idea how I did it, but I did it. Virtually no movement and an awful lot of pain. Parents out there will know only too well the struggle of dealing with the little monsters when you are not 100% yourself, add to that the fact that hubs is away this week and a poorly Tinks and well, you get the picture- it was a pretty terrible day.

It got to around 8pm, the Dandelions were all asleep and while texting hubs he suggested trying one of his painkillers. I did. Now, let me make it clear that I am in no way advocating taking another person’s medication so no jumping on that as an excuse for some Mummy bashing. What can I say, I was desperate!

The result was this message to hubs this morning about the wierd ass dream I had…

“So, last night you brought home some tart that you were sleeping with and announced that she would be coming over whenever you wanted her to and that I should allow this to keep happening because I wasn’t giving you what you need in bed. I kicked her out and told you to go too. She left alone.

You then started rummaging around outside in a hole you had dug in the wall. I asked what the hell you were doing and you told me you were preparing for war. You spent the rest of the time wearing only a gas mask!

There was also some random bloke in the house that I am not sure I’ve ever met, but he was there like he belonged, just wandering around. The kids weren’t scared of him so I ignored him.

Unless I have suddenly gained the power to see into the future (in which case for your own safety, you should probably stay in Wales forever, because NO!) I don’t think I will be taking your pills again!

P.S I can move my neck ever so slightly this morning.”

His response?

“And you only had 10mg I take more than twice that!!”

And now I know why my husband has been walking around in cloud cuckoo land for the last five years!



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