*Find out why fridge is making that noise.
*Go on email for one hour only per day instead of spending entire day in helpless cyber-circle of email, news stories, Calendar, Google and shopping and holiday websites whilst texting, then not answering any of emails anyway.
*Not add Twitter, Facebook, WhatsApp and whatever to cyber-circle when have got on them.
*Deal with emails immediately and so that email becomes effective means of communication instead of terrifying Unexploded Email Inbox full of guilt trips and undetonated time-vampire bombs.
*Be better at looking after the children than Chloe the nanny.
*Establish regular routine with children so everyone knows where they are and what supposed to be doing, esp. self.
*Read parenting self-help books, including One, Two, Three . . . Better, Easier Parenting and French Children Don’t Throw Food in order to be better at looking after the children than Chloe.
*Be kinder to Talitha, Jude, Tom and Magda in return for their kindness to me.
*Go to Pilates once a week, Zumba twice a week, gym three times a week and yoga four times a week.
I WILL NOT
*Drink so much Diet Coke before yoga that entire yoga session becomes exercise in trying not to fart.
*Ever be late for school run.
*Do V-signs at people during school run.
*Get annoyed by dishwasher, tumble dryer and microwave beeping in attention-seeking manner to tell you they have finished, wasting time crossly imitating dishwasher by dancing round saying, ‘Oh, oh, look at me, I’m a dishwasher, I’ve washed the dishes.’
*Get annoyed with Mum, Una or Perfect Nicolette.
*Call Nicolette ‘Nicorette’.
*Chew more than ten pieces of Nicorette per day.
*Hide empty wine bottles from Chloe.
*Eat grated cheese straight out of the fridge, dropping it all over the floor.
*Be shouty or snarly with the children but talk in calm, even, electronic-person-on-voicemail-type voice at all times.
*Drink more than one can (each) of Red Bull and Diet Coke a day.
*Drink more than two non-decaf cappuccinos a day. Or three.
*Eat more than three Big Macs or Starbucks ham-and-cheese paninis per week.
*Keep saying, ‘One . . . two . . .’ in warning voice to children before have decided what to do when get to ‘three’.
*Lie in bed in the morning thinking morbid or erotic thoughts, but get straight up at six o’clock and do self up for school run in manner of Stella McCartney, Claudia Schiffer or similar.
*Wang around hysterically when things go wrong but instead achieve acceptance and calm – and stand like a great tree in the midst of it all.
But how can I accept what happened?. . . Look, I mustn’t . . . Gaah! Is time for doctor’s appointment and have not got snack ready, written, meditated or located whereabouts of EFFING CAR KEYS! FUCK!
SOCIAL MEDIA VIRGIN
Saturday 21 April 2012
172lb, minutes spent on exercise bike 0, minutes spent cleaning out cupboard 0, minutes spent working out how to use remotes 0, resolutions kept 0.
9.15 p.m. Children are asleep and house is all dark and quiet. Oh God, I’M SO LONELY. Everyone else in London is out laughing uproariously with their friends in restaurants and then having sex.
9.25 p.m. Look. Is absolutely fine being in on own on Saturday nights. Will simply clear out cupboard under stairs then get on exercise bike.
9.30 p.m. Just looked in cupboard. Maybe not.
9.32 p.m. Just looked in fridge. Maybe will have glass of wine and bag of grated cheese.
9.35 p.m. That’s better. Am going to get on Twitter! With the advent of social media is no need for anyone to feel isolated and alone ever again.
9.45 p.m. Have got onto Twitter site but do not understand. Is just incomprehensible streams of gibberish half-conversations with @this and @that. How is anybody supposed to know what is going on?
Sunday 22 April 2012
9.15 p.m. OK. Have got self set up on Twitter now. Need to find name. Something young-sounding: TotesAmazogBridget?
9.46 p.m. Maybe not.