Natan and his dad both had a great time playing in the new pirate ship paddling pool today (it only took Anthony about an hour to pump the thing up!).
We also had the first BBQ of the summer – us and the rest of the UK if the lack of supplies in Tesco and M&S was anthing to go by.
It’s just a shame it’s back to work tomorrow. The weekend just seems to fly by.
Natan came to the match today – Manchester City v Bolton – with me and his grandma.
Cheering for City and clapping away, I was very proud of course. He didn’t last the 90 minutes. That would have been pushing it. But it was his first proper game. Not sure I can count taking him to the Manchester derby when he was six weeks old.
He didn’t quite get it though, as he kept asking why they weren’t letting the white team have a turn…
If you’ve been following me on twitter this week, you’ll know I’ve been trying to get my head around this whole twitter thing and see if it will work for me. I am still reserving my judgement about how it will work for me personally, although I am getting strangely addicted to it, so it is obviously having some effect.
This week my son has forgotten what his mother looks like. It has indeed been one of those weeks. He has mostly spoken to me on the phone, “Are you at work again mummy?”, “Are you at a different work?” (a different work is where I go when he is not at school you see), “Is Michelle picking me up again mummy?”, then a quick “I love you” before he has cut me off. It’s definitely been a tough one.
On Monday, I had the priviledge of going to a private reception for the NSPCC Child’s Voice Appeal, hosted by Ian Simpson and Jo Farrell in their unbelievable penthouse at the top of the Hilton Tower in Manchester. It is absolutely the most amazing home I have ever seen. The indoor olive grove has to be seen to be believed. Ian and Jo were the ultimate hosts and the Appeal will definitely benefit from their generous hospitality.
The Child’s Voice Appeal is a powerful one and something I am actively involved in supporting. The statistics are scary to say the least – 21% of girls and 16% of boys under 16 have been abused. As I mother, I find this difficult to grasp.
On that note, yesterday’s news that Baby Peter’s mother has written a letter of apology to the Judge in her case made me sick to my stomach. I am hopeful that justice will prevail here.
Following last week’s Birmingham event, on Tuesday I was at the Leeds event in the BDO Stoy Hayward James Bellini roadshow and on Wednesday it was the final event in Manchester.
Yesterday the Chief Economist of Yorkshire Bank was in Manchester. – An Economist with a personality is certainly a rare thing and something to be celebrated. Thanks to Tom Vosa for making economics interesting for once.
Anyway, roll on the weekend when I can now be just a mummy again. Someone said to me this morning that Bank Holidays were created for weeks like this when carrying on at the same speed is really not an option.
I second that.
Tuesday night. 7.30 pm. Storytime before bed.
Natan to mummy, “Mummy, you’re beautiful.”
Mummy to Natan, “That’s lovely darling, but mummy doesn’t feel very beautiful.”
Natan to mummy, “Why not mummy?”
Mummy to Natan, “Because I am very tired darling and it’s been a long day at work.”
Natan to mummy, “Well if you’re tired mummy, then you are tired and beautiful.”
I am just back from the launch of the next stage of “iNspire – the Charity Incubator”.
It was a really successful evening, with over 50 charities and businesses represented. I am really proud to be part of such an exciting and unique project. More on this soon.
When I got home I went in to kiss Natan goodnight as I always do when I’ve been working late. As I tucked him in, he opened his eyes and beamed, “Mummy! Hello mummy. Where have you been?”
“I’ve been at work angel,” I answered, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” he replied and gave me the biggest squeeze, the type of cuddle that makes everything worthwhile.
“You’re beautiful mummy. I love you.”
I melted. The best feeling in the world I can tell you.
So, another derby day done and dusted. Our little man spent the day with his grandma and grandpa. We headed to Old Trafford – a City season ticket holder (me) and a United season ticket holder (my husband) went to the match together.
It certainly amused the radio station phone-ins on the way home. Both Key 103 and BBC Radio Manchester put us live on air talking about the game.
I’ll repeat what I said on air… Manchester United were just too good for us. We had no passion, no heart, no shape, few ideas and as for Robinho, our “star”, I think Natan, my three-year-old son, would have scored the goal he missed.
We missed Shaun Wright-Phillips today – he knows what derby day means to the fans. As my twitter post today said: “We dream of playing in the shirt. Today God chose you. Play like we dream.”
Unfortunately they didn’t.
As regular readers will know, I am a City fan married to a Red.
Now, that said, please give it a rest.
We all saw the football tonight. We do not live on the moon.
We know that United are in the Champions League Final.
Now let that be an end to it.
Bring on the Manchester Derby!!!
You could not help but be touched by the pictures on the news this evening of a mother being torn away from her children for an alleged affair.
How a father can do that to his children is beyond me. I am praying that justice prevails and that Marnie Pearce gets her young boys back where they belong, with their loving mother. How she is managing to carry on I do not know.
History shows us however that this story may not have the happy ending it deserves.
So the mad season has started.
Last night I went to the first of many dinners that I’ll go to over the coming weeks, the Greater Manchester Chamber of Commerce Annual Dinner. The highlight of which had to be Dara O’Briain, who was hilarious and was the funniest comedian I’ve heard in a very long time. I was lucky enough to chat to him in the bar after the formalities concluded. What a nice bloke.
Michael Taylor’s take on things is here.
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