Posted in Baking, Mr X, parenting

Butter withdrawals…

I have ever thought of myself as much of a cook, or a baker.

I mean, I cook everyday but nothing spectacular, just your run of the mill toad in the hole, sausage and mash etc.

But then after Christmas I started housewifing properly again. And a decision was made that we would no longer buy snacks for the kids – I would make them instead. Nothing like a little bit of pressure to get the baking juices going!

And so, over the last few weeks I have turned my hand to quite a few different creations, each one (so far) has gone down pretty well with the tinies. 

And then this week, something went terribly wrong with the weekly shop, I miscalculated the need for butter and sugar, forgot the boy needed ingredients for food tech and also completely forgot to pick up normal sugar for Mr X’s coffee resulting in the need to fill the sugar pot with my remaining caster sugar. All in all, a complete disaster of a shop. 

So by Wednesday I had completely run out of sugar and butter. And somewhere deep down in side there must have been a secret baker trying to come out because I felt completely lost!! After my housework was done, and the tiniest tiny was having her nap, I sat in the front room with a cup of tea, rocking (slight exaggeration). All I could think of was cooking, I was having withdrawals!!

And so apparently, and without intention or me noticing, it would appear that I have become addicted to making food, as well as eating it. 

Epic (although I’m not sure the scales are going to agree…!)

Mrs X xoxo

Posted in Marriage, Mr X, parenting

Mr and Mrs X

The above picture is quite clearly a picture of myself and Mr X, we tend to dress like this and lean against walls around the home, slight pout for effect, just in case unexpected visitors knock the door. We are always prepared.

This month, Mr X and I will celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary, go us! So married for 13 years and together for another 4 before that, happily married bliss, butterflies in the stomach, goosebumps when we touch – the whole shabanging shit.

Apart from today, today he pissed me off. Big time.

Mr X is going through some stuff, and I get it, I probably honestly have more understanding of it than most, sadly. And normally I am so so sympathetic, always on hand if needed, I want to help. But there are limits.

Today we were having a discussion about a client mix up, or potential mix up, which needs to be sorted. I suggested that he call one of the clients to speak directly rather than emails back and forth, you know, the direct approach. He asked me if I would call, and I said no. Like I say, I am happy to help, but I don’t even call my sister let alone a random client, I absolutely hate phone calls. As far as I am concerned text messages are the best invention ever. Ever. You can say what you want without the possibility of awkward silences, the need to talk about crap to fill the void. I. Hate. It. And so I said no. And he accused me of having “slopey shoulders”.

I mean, what the hell does that even mean??…


We made a decision before Christmas that I would take a step back from our business. There is not currently enough work for the two of us and I sincerely missed being “mum”. And so for the last 3 weeks, I have been full steam ahead with my chores, my children, even as far as starting to “homeschool” the baby (as I am convinced that she is a frickin’ (evil) genius). I have done everything I set out to do. At no point have I passed off any of my responsibilities to anyone else (unless you count the chore chart, but that is a teaching process!).

And so to be told I was in some way shirking by responsibilities really really pissed me off. And rightly so, I think.

And so, I told him so. In no uncertain terms I informed him of all I do, and all I still have to do, and how that is my responsibility and the “admin shit” is his. I am not an on-call secretary for all the crap he just doesn’t want to do. 

He took it on the chin, like a man – ok so actually more like a scalded puppy. So then I felt guilty.

But that’s the thing. 13 years married, 17 years together. We know each other inside and out. We are soul mates, he is my rock, my raisin d’etre (sic!!) and quite simply the love of my life. So I can tell him that he has royally fucked me off and he can take it, and vice versa.

Happy marriage isn’t about never a cross word, or bottling up your emotions. It’s about communication, understanding that by saying you are pissed off you are not saying anything more than that.

13 years married and still truly, madly, deeply in love. We’re doing something right!!

Mrs X xoxo