Diary of a slightly mad, single mummy...

Smart compliments
I’m going to kick off this week’s column retelling some of the mood-enhancing comments I’ve received over the last week. Firstly, my column is like diarrhoea, apparently. I guess I have so much to say, that it all tumbles out.

I was also told I had fantastic legs by an elderly lady stood behind me in a queue. This comment would have been great if the second I was ushered towards the counter she hadn’t barged past me and took my place. I’ve known guys to give one-liners to sweeten you up, but never an old lady.

On reflection, she’s smart. Because she was nice I never said anything when she took my place, despite me then having to wait an extra 10 minutes in the queue, holding a two-stone baby.

Here come the girls
On Sunday I cheered the men in my family on as they entered a raft race at Selsey lifeboat day. With a raft they built only the day before - it hadn’t even been water tested - I was sure they were doomed to fail, but the boys surprised me and came sixth.

Watching the race reminded me a little of parliament; there were very few women involved. It’s sparked my vote to create an all-women raft for next year’s race. My friends aren’t so enthused with the idea.

A break from CBeebies
This week I also took my friend Louise to complete a restaurant review with me. Usually when we get together our conversation is constructed in high-pitched tones above the sound of our children and CBeebies, so I jumped at the opportunity to treat her to a rare night of tapas, Sangria, and above all, no children.

Please Mr. Postman
On the rare occasion that all my work is up to date and Summer is napping, I will plan a relaxing bath with a cocktail of lush cosmetics. I couldn’t believe it when I found myself in this situation a few days ago. All morning I was dreaming about my bath and couldn’t wait for Summer to drop off so I could finally overwhelm myself in bubbles and relaxation – even if it was only for 30 minutes.

Three minutes into my soak and I was in heaven. However, as I reclined my shoulders and closed my eyes I could hear his footsteps approaching the path. It was the postman. The second my Vogue subscription hit the floor Summer screamed. My heart sank and I burst into frustrated tears, quickly marching down the stairs to calm her down. I know this is a ludicrous overreaction to a simple domestic malfunction, but the loss of my soak felt like a disaster of titanic proportions...

Until next time x

Laura’s book, ‘My Summer Bump’, can be purchased at:
www.authourhouse.co.uk

If you can’t wait a week to see what Laura has been up to, follow Laura on twitter @LauraPauley