in your easter bonnet with all the frills upon it

Dear Marianne,

Easter is a tricky time for us, because apart from the 15 tons of chocolate egg we will need to buy, we also have three of our children's birthdays and my Mum's birthday to cater for - so it's like Christmas all over again; for the bank account that is.
I ask the children what they would like as birthday presents, because surprises aren't what they used to be in our day, i.e. surprises. Today, they are just mistakes, things your parents make you have instead of things you actually want. Well, Mike is getting surprises because whilst he thinks he is generally chatting with me about the toys he likes, really I am taking notes and compiling lists - ha ha.
Anna however is not such an easy target, and has been clear that she wants a complete Bratz (why the z?) birthday. So I bought Cloe (why no h?)her favourite, and my God what a tart she is, the whole range is the same, they're not just Bratz they're Slutz as well. Cloe has such swollen lips and cheeks, that she looks like that bloke from Celebrity Big Brother, you know the man/woman ex-singer, Pete whats his name, friend of the Dundonean Gangster MP who ripped into Barrymore and made us all like him again (Barrymore, not the MP, keep up), that's right Pete Burns. Anyway, that's what this doll looks like, so hideous that I yearned for the delicate and oh so lifelike doll we knew and loved as Barbie.
Archie meanwhile is bound to ask for football stuff when he comes next week and Mike will be getting a castle and some robot stuff - sorry about the stereotyping but we really have absolutely no say over our children, we've tried and failed.
Anna's age group are also expected to have the latest in party entertainment - so that means, RUNAROUND, BOWLING, CHOCOLATE PARTIES (don't ask) etc. We have told her she can take one friend to see something funny at the cinema or something educational at the local theatre - well we didn't sell it like that, we worked on the language for her, we're not idiots you know. She chose funny at Cinema followed by milkshakes etc. at local cafe, so clearly over-selling the Theatre gig had no effect.
I won't go on about parties here because I have been down that sad road before and it only ends in tears. The competition round here is too strong I can never compete, you think the Bowling party is in and so you opt for Bowling, and then someone trumps you with an Open Top Bus DO with clowns, jugglers and a petting zoo. So steady and small we go, and as it happens, the weirdness of opting out of the scramble for best party seems to get Anna some unexpected kudos - my advice to Mothers is go minimal ladies, its so this year!
I got a party for nothing myself this weekend, well it was because I am a Mother - which wasn't really something of note unless you were in the room when I gave birth, in which case your ears will still be ringing and the hair on your head still growing back. But I do like getting the home made (nursery and school- made) cards from the children and I enjoy, though don't really heed, the regular cries of "sit down", "rest - it's Mother's Day". Anyway, after Anna and Mike had gone to bed and I was "resting", the three eldest arrived at my sofa door "all done up", to announce that they had come to take me out - which they did after I had been hurried into a clean top, some eyeliner and a quick spray of perfume.
We were shoved out the door by Craig and arrived two minutes later at the local Thai restaurant, it was a good plan which looked like it might go wrong. The restaurant was very busy and they (Craig) hadn't booked, and the staff, who were already looking strained, seemed frightened by the young people. I know I've said it before, but this place really is really small Town; each time the big kids are out after after dark, I warn them to look out for the child catcher.
We were squeezed in, which was fine by us, Becky took control of the menu, ordering, looking out for Archie and paying the Bill. Stan was entertainment officer and regaled us all with stories of life, love, The Simpsons, friends and his recent charity turn at school, where he turned up on Friday dressed only in nappy and over-sized dummy - no really, he did, even after we slagged up comic relief for, well...he wasn't listening either I'm glad to say.
Anyway, back to the meal, Archie chose something too hot and had to take to the toilets to drink a gallon of water from the tap, but seemed to enjoy his coke. The food was brought very slowly, but eaten at lightening speed, the staff stared at us, waiting for something terrible to happen, still suspicious of these young humans. They needn't have worried they are thoroughly restaurant trained having been out on the Town with us since they could sit up straight in those clip on chairs you get at Wagamamas. The highlight of the night was obviously getting two foxes glacier mints each at the end of the meal. Becky paid (well handed over the money - I suspect Craig may have supplied it) and we headed home, too full of noodles, tired and giggly.

Easter will soon be hurtling towards us, it will come and go in a blur of chocolate bunnies, birthday parties, egg painting and egg rolling, motorway trips to relatives and home-made entertainment. And I will be tired out again, and penniless again but I do love this Mother lark really you know.

Rx

don't marry her fuck me

Dear Marianne,

We made a vain attempt at sex this morning - a stab, you may say - only to be interrupted by Anna, shouting from downstairs, (where she was supposedly being looked after by the Cbeebies channel) "What do pigs eat?!"
"Apples!" we both shouted back, with a little more venom than I think was warranted. But we don't get many opportunities for sex, and I do mean sex, making love is just a made up thing you see in the cinema (whatever a cinema is). And we have so often over the years had coitus interruptus from children, though the most spectacular has to go to Becky's phone call intervention from her Dad's house. We had an entirely empty home, but as soon as that phone rang I knew two things, 1. I should have pulled the phone line out before we started and 2. That it would be Becky, her sex radar was amazing - and it didn't surprise me that she had sensed we were "at it" from ten miles away.

I promised myself, and silently Craig too, that I wouldn't mention sex in our correspondence, but it takes up a lot of our lives, not, unfortunately, in a physical sense. We spend a great deal of time talking about how we used to take it for granted, how we used to do "it" a lot, we discuss how often it was simply spontaneous - yes drink induced - and how little of it involved micro planning, unless we were attempting something daring such as an outside moment. If we didn't manage to get it together for a while that was OK we would catch ourselves up over the next few weeks. So today, we discuss sex in the past tense and sex in the future tense, and the future is pictured as small windows of opportunity when children are asleep, at nursery or stupidly, like this morning, just far enough away in our tall house not to notice us.

These windows of opportunity are desperately difficult to organise, but every now and again we pull it off (I know, I know), and feel like adults with a life and a future. It's the same for a friend of mine who manages an illicit fag in her design room (shed in garden)once a day, whilst her sons watch CARS and feed on snacks rich in salt. I have another friend who is working towards a BA in History with the Open University - she's doing it part time so should be done by 2020 and another friend - what am I saying, I don't have three friends I have pre-school age children. The rest of the women I know are all Mothers of other children, not friends, definitely not friends, more like enemies really. Anyway, the point is when your life is hour after hour of monotony filled by children and Fimbles, Runaround ("fun" indoor play park)making castles with bog roll tubes, trying to get the little darlings to eat cheese by offering them something called cheesestring and wet pants (their's not mine - well sometimes mine)then you tend to look on the few minutes without all this as sacred time - time to be spent doing ADULT things. Even if you do just want to eat sweeties and watch Charlie and Lola, you know you can't you absolutely MUST do something grown up - it is your responsibility to all the others who suffer too.

So sex, and fags and rock and roll (hey that would make a good title for a song)and beer and swearing and films with ADULT CONTENT and going to the Theatre to see rubbish and going to the cinema to see The Queen, a film you would NEVER have considered when you felt you had a choice, and getting drunk on two bottles of wine in half an hour on your first night out in four months - and calling the husband of that woman from NCT classes a cunt and not remembering why. This is what we must do, this is what we have to do, until we have life's blood, that is TIME, returned to us. Good luck everybody - go forth and for God's sake, don't multiply.

Rx