Six months ago I gave up my moderately successful (I was never complained about) career at the criminal bar. Not that it was all it was cracked up to be. 5 years of training accompanied by £20k debt, followed by 10 years of slogging court to court for not much money but hey I got to wear a wig and gown and have lunch without having to remember to bring nappies, wipes, a bib and something to keep the little angels amused whilst we wait for the food that they won't eat to appear. However, I never knew where I was going to be from one day to the next, plus I regularly got landed with trials to prepare the night before which as I am sure you can imagine has its fair share of stress attached. When we had only one daughter things were just about manageable, 3 days of nursery and 2 of grandma, but then number 2 arrived and the s*** hit the fan. Especially when my eldest started school and had to be picked up initially at 12, then at 3pm. A year of juggling ensued leading inevitably to an already strained (by kids and lack of sleep etc.) marriage becoming increasingly under pressure. The only option was for us to get a nanny and pay all my hard earned cash to her (or him!!) and have someone else mold the little darlings. Then in October 2007 my husband met me for lunch and said "It's all sorted, I'm getting a pay rise so you can give up work" and puff that was it! I stopped work at Christmas and spent the next few months in a haze of organising something to do for me and adorable toddler to do everyday to stop me going stark raving bonkers. The only proviso being that our 2 year old stayed in nursery for two half days per week and my how that has saved my sanity! So on Mondays it's cleaning and nursery (hoorah), Tuesdays playgroup, Wednesdays music group, Thursdays swimming and the library and Fridays nursery. Now, I know children love routine as do I to a certain extent (bedtimes are great!) but I am beginning to understand why those interrogators at Guantanemo use the same piece of music over and over and over again to subdue their captives! I've gone from the sublime to the ridiculous. Not knowing what I'm doing from one day to the next to having each day virtually set in stone. Coupled with that I am now practically invisible. What is it about a pushchair? Perhaps its like Harry Potter's cloak without the exciting bits and a damn site less portable, oh yeah and at least Master Potter is happy to use his cloak whilst try getting my toddler into the pushchair without a packet of milky bar buttons and I'll give you a medal. Anyway, as I was saying "what am I doing?" I know I am doing the best for my children (I hope) and much of the time I am fulfilled and well aware of how lucky I am that we can afford for us to do this. So why is there that part of me that screams out "Listen, I do still have a brain, some interesting opinions on subjects other that who is your favourite Disney princess and something to SAY!" I haven't spent the last 12 years being a professional arguer for nothing! That's why I'm doing this blog. The only person who knows about this blog so far is my dear old mum (not so much of the old thank you!) and next I'll tell my best mate who is due to give up her job soon too (God save her - she's got 3 of the little blighters! They better not bloody shove us in a nice home when we're old). I wasn't going to tell my husband but I've changed my mind, if I don't feel like talking to him I could always just tell him to read my blog instead! Also he's got a blog too so it would be fun to exchange tales about our tale telling. Well I hope whoever reads this enjoys it. Time permitting I'll let you know of any exciting breaks in monotonous routines post haste. Hold the front page it's the school fair on Sunday when I'll be face painting (ha!). But next Wednesday's highlight (reception sports day) is now cancelled - bloody teachers on strike retro 80's style!!