As i stood 5 feet away from my front door with the girls at my ankles I decided that it was time to take action - well when I could get in the flaming house it would be.
The problem is this. I am allergic to wasp sting and there were a bunch of the little rat bags dancing round my front door thus blocking me out, brilliant.

We have lived here now just over three years and so far every march/april they come back to bug me. We have cleared the gardens front and back of anything that could be attracting them so as a last resort it was time to call the professionals.

The solution was hardly forth coming when the pest control officer over the phone decided that they were honey bees and thus what I needed to do was call a bee-keeper. So to the yellow pages I went to which I found the nearest beekeeper over 1 hour away, so not likely to come and remove the queen then.

But all was not lost when I recalled buying some local honey from a local shop a few months before. I called the shop who put me in contact with the keeper. A lovely lady then very kindly phoned me and within 10 minute was on my door step with yet more bad news.

It appears we have solitary bees. Now in opposition to their title we have about 20 of the things that according to the keeper are using the front of our house as a play ground due to the heat retained by the bricks. Great so looks like we are stuck with them for the duration and most probably for the coming years until they find better facilites elsewhere.

In the meantime I quivers at the thought of leaving or entering the house having to walk past them with the girls and even started having bad dreams about them - I WANT TO MOVE LIKE NOW.

If anyone knows how I could discourage them (apart from ice-cladding the house please let me know.

Quiz time: It is a very foggy night and you are walking home from the train station. You need to cross a road that you cannot even see the other side of do you a) check that you are wearing black from head to toe, b) cross at a normal slow pace, c) ignore the crossing only 5 metres away or d) all of the above ?

If you even considered answering a-d then you would be having to pay road idiot road tax and insurance under my new scheme.

I very nearly put to such idiots out of their misery a few days ago whilst driving home. I was a quivering wreck by the time I pulled up on the drive way. They rely on good drivers to keep them safe on the road so by my book they should be helping to foot the bill for road tax and insurance. If I had knocked one of them down both our lives would never have been the same again but it would be me quite literally paying for it – well and you as a humble tax payer.

So the only solution is to have a pedestrian license, tax and insurance scheme. i.e anyone that wants to use the roads should have to cough up, why do just car owners have to pay to drive safely on the roads. We have all proven that cars, bikes, pedestrians aren’t equal on the roads so lets level it out a bit and have us all on the things on the same basis, tested and adequately paid up for. Maybe then all the idiots that put everyone at risk might take a bit of responsibility and cross safely rather than blame us good motorist for not second guessing that they are going to step right out in front of us.

Quick, hurry do not delay. If you want to be clad out this summer rush to the highstreet and get those flip-flops NOW.

I am sure that when we were young mum went out and got what we needed as we needed it. We never had a stock pile of clothes ready and waiting for the weather to turn. How times have changed. The shops are completely out of season these days. In winter you have to stock up for summer and in the summer heat you have to shop for the woolly jumpers or else low and behold you will miss out on the chance to be suitably dressed.

Yesterday I was in panic mode yet again. All I needed was a new pair of water proof boots (my 6 year old pair had a half inch difference between the left side and right side on each heal)and was sent into a complete spin on seeing a highstreet full of summer clothes. Had I have wanted a nice summer sandle I would have been spoilt for choice. Up and down I went, 3 hours later I struggled to pick between the only 2 pairs the shops had on offer, they would have to make do until next year.

Then with my brain pumping out of my head I charged round purse open gathering up an array of clothes just in case we needed them in the summer. Swimming costumes, deck shoes, shorts,t-shirts - good gosh. Then just as I thought I was ahead of the game it occured that the girls would probably go up a size during the summer so off to get next sizes up aswell!

So great all ready for summer in february, lets just keep our fingers crossed that the weather is in line with the stock pile. I sigh of relief that at least that is it shopping wise until at least October - brilliant - execpt.....

According to the shops seasonal calander summer must be due to end in march so I can look forward to stock piling for next winter in 2 months time - oh sod it.

I thought I was going spontaneously combust when I arrived home to find a dumped cardboard box next to our wall. Now living on a corner plot brings with it many a problem, mainly of the doggy doos variety, but I would never have laid money on the dreaded R word bringing our house into horrors – Recycling – ARRGGGHHH.

The said box on closer inspection was full, not of litter and this is too good to have made up, it was full of council leaflets on ? You’ve guessed it recycling. They were to convince all us council tax payers to fork out X amount a year to have our garden refuse collected, encouraging us to use recycling banks (which are located in places only accessible by car ???) and so the bullying continues.

As I picked up my phone to dial the number which was conveniently at hand, I noticed from my kitchen window a van stopping to collect the contents (2 vans thus far for one box, very carbon neutral I don’t think) and to add insult the box was left behind for the street cleaners (yep another van) to get it the next day and of course they were probably cursing me for leaving it there.

Now we regular recycle thanks to brainwash TV otherwise known as cbeebies. They are constantly pressurising young minds to worry about the planet rather than whether they can get away with picking their noses. My three year old is more aware of what can and can’t go in the bin than me and I recycle purely on the basis that I might get put on the naughty spot for putting a yoghurt pot in the normal bin. Mind you all the TV experts say a minute on the naughty spot for each year of life so a 32 minute sit down could be worth it.

We don’t even really watch all that much TV and this is the situation we find our selves in. Again this is all hardly eco friendly they should be getting the kids to turn the TV off and play a board game by candle light to save the world instead.
Even the Christmas trees had us all in a tangle – “dispose ecofriendly” this year. 1) plant it in your garden – but I just paid some one £400 to have the garden cleared.
2) take it to the council recycling plant – great- wait, so in the car, then into an electric machine, then package and transport in a van the chips and I then hoover out the card for 2 hours. Is this all offset?

It is all complete madness, but hey I still do it.

Who would have thought that the humble sock could cause our household so much grief and pleasure. I am refering to the normal foot garmet not some new elborate masterpiece of the same name.

I can't say that I can pinpoint a starting point for all of this but over a period of time this small knitted thing has become a focal point of arguments and laughs. So lets deal with the more interesting arguements first.

The main reason for the sock argument is of course the husband. On his arrival home the shoes must come straight off to reveal the black smelly socks that even the girls run in fear of. Now I can handle a breif whiff but 20 minutes after being home the offending socks are still on the go. Thus the argument begins, my main arguement being where does the smell go, the socks in question go directly on the carpet which in this instant are pretty new. It also occurs (loudly) that I am the only one that actually smells the rotting cotton and thus why should I have to lump it all night. The socks eventually come off which should be the end but is actaully only just the beginning. The smell obviously transends the socks so we have the "wash your feet" debate, followed by the you dirty sod you put them in the shoe basket not the laundry basket or you left them on my pillow (as sort of revenge he uses should I say too much). The neighbours must be ready to have us both committed!

Next is the three year old. She frequently has colour days where she will only wear all clothes of one colour. On the whole they are pink days so I have a plently to cover, but the trouble starts on a purple day when the 1 pair of purple socks are dirty or on a blue day where there just aren't any - here world ends as my headache starts.

In on the act jumps the 9 month old as throughout the day we do the battle to keep them on. I put them on she pulls them off over and over and over and over again until bedtime. This must be a common game as I recently saw a advert for an over sock to help sort this little occurance out.

Now I am not totally innocent in all this (don't tell the husband)I moan about mine constantly. Trying to find a decent cotton sock is a battle these days even M&s do them thinner these days (paxo I get you). Then there is the problem of matching a pair of socks to shoes/trainers and just when I think i have it hey presto the girls have a group at which I must reveal a decent and of course matching pair - O hell!

And so on to the laughs - well all of the above - after the event naturally.

Absolute blind panic set in last night. There I sat small whiskey in one hand, laptop in the other wondering what on earth to do. Everyone I know is pre-booked for their yearly hols but we are thus far on the hoilday shelf.

I don't know where this has all come from. A few years ago we would all wake up one saturday morning realise that we had a week off and book a nice week away to go argue in the sun!

There is now a completely different scenerio. Gone are the days of just going wherever, whenever, with who ever. We have been pondering for weeks, disscussing, arguing, looking, it is ridiculous. And the whole thing is even more stupid when you put into the pot that we already know where we are going!!!!

We are hardly planning a 6 month trek round the globe, nor indeed a idilic island escape, not even a cultural city break. So what is left you might ask? Well we are going to, now wait for it ...... a 4 night stay at ..... centreparcs. WHAT?

After our last relaxing (as far as you can use that word with 2 under 5s)break there it should be straight forward but no not in our household. We have opened a whole can of worms as to when the weather would have cheered up, when the 3 year old can miss pre-school, avoiding times around the girls birthdays and of course (ssh don't tell tell anyone) which events we can strategically miss by being away.

It has taken us a month of negotiation already, with friends and family asking constantly "any holiday plans this year?". IT IS ONLY January for goodness sake whats the hurry? Whats the panic? I will tell you what it is. Its that everyone else has booking up months in advance and thus we fear missing out or being ripped off.

The irony is that it is only for 4 nights and most of that will be taken up listening to the children throw tantrums, the husband pacing down to a go slow which annoys the hell out of me and generally life as normal just in a forest. So might just as well grow a few trees in the garden and stay at home but... I am actually looking forward to it - what?

No I am not describing the old adult game of ladies & gentleman or even doing a solo of the chilrens party song. What I am talking about is probably the most time consuming physical activity of our 4 strong household - adapting the soding car seat from the husbands last trip ready for my dash to the supermarket - it is driving us bonkers.

Everytime I managed to get out of the front door on time (which isn't as often as it should be) it always dawns on me that I forgot to allow the extra 5 minutes to fight the 3 year old and 9 month old into their car seats. Once they are safely and occupied I smile of success and then am slapped back into the real world when I drop very unlady like behind the wheel.

It is at this point that the neighbours must be twiching the curtains getting their daily laugh at my expense as there proceeds an arrary of movements that even the best of yoga instructors would love to achieve.

Now the problem is thus. I am a nice 5'2" and the husband a manly 6'2", in most areas of life ie reaching high/low places we complement each other nicely, but in the car department we despise of one another.

I have the seat right forward, him right back, me steering wheel on low height, him highest, me seat belt down, him seat belt up. On last count to I have to make 7 different adjustments to get into the correct driving position after the husband has driven and of course this would be ditto for him.

I am a great lover of the car and gadgets therewithin, I am often found watching repeats of Top gear (except for the one in which a sweaty James May goes for the natural look behind the wheel of a supercar) but come on all you car designers could we please put a little more thought into the car share scenerio.

Every family I know only have one car so there must be thousands of people hit with car rage before they even get off the driveway so is it no one we are all fuming by the time we get to the end of the road.

What we need is a computerised system by which we click on our name on the console and hey presto the car is ready for take off. I mean they have designed a mattress with a memory so how hard can it be?

Mind you it wouldn't solve the other problem of me nearly crashing through the bay window every time I turn the ignition on because the husband has left the sodding thing in gear again!

Without putting myself in same the bracket, there must be a high concentration of thick people living in our area. This does come as a surprise considering the amount we had to spend on our very modest 3 bed semi 2 years ago and the daylight robbery charge otherwise refered to as council tax that we pay but a trip to the duck pond has given me all the evidence that i need.

Now I grew up in Cambridgeshire with a duck pond a minute walk away from my back door. We went there daily unattended by an adult and threw bread to the ducks right from the waters edge, in fact we would often lay on our bellies hands in the water to grab frog spawn and other nature goodies. Living now on the far reaches of london our local duck pond has been wrapped in cotton wool for our children's safety.

To put this into some sort of context this duck pond is well set back from any road and is actually more of a puddle than a pond. One can walk around it with a slow coach three year old and a pushchair in less than a minute and there are so few ducks that one slice of bread can do the lot of them (thats includes the odd bit being stolen by the 3 year old and 9 month old). No child in my ten years off living in the area has fallen in or been injured near by so why oh why have the local grey suits had to waste my tax money messing with the place.

They have: 1) put a fence round the pond and half the grass(you can't get within 5 foot of the waters edge, 2) pulled up most of the plants, 3) put up safety signs, 4)repaved the entrance - which was already fine, and 4) shortened the opening times.

The cost of destroying this bit of local green spot must have run into the thousands and why do we need sodding safety notices telling us how to feed ducks. I am half expecting to see an ambualance resting out side next time I visit just in case some poor child manages to heaven forbid fall and graze a knee, but i suppose since no one is allow to put a plaster on a child in case of an allergic reation would be another PC bit of madness.

So I suppose the council's next steps would be to put half a dozen antibacterial handwash stations and footbaths on the exits, in fact why don't they just spoil all our childrens fun and freedom but concreting over the pond and getting some local artist to make a modern interpretation of a duck statute instead? - because the poor children might climb on the statute !!!!!

And i bet you do too? (read the title a letter at a time to see if you do)

Until quite recently I thought the worse thing about public weeing was the wriggly wait in the queue, especially if you have the mispleasure of taking a three year old with you. But now there seems to be a significant increase in the number of public toilet irritants.

So not only do you have to wait your turn in what always seems like the longest queue you have ever stood in, now you have the pleasure of toilet marketting to greet you and your arrival.

Most public toilets now have picture frame size adverts along the corridor leading up to the facilities, akin to the train escalator jobbies (if you will excuse the pun). I suppose it takes your mind of the reason for queuing and thus delays the inevitable at that crucial time. Execpt that the adverts are always for those sugary soft drinks or spring water - just what you don't need as you try to hold back the last consumed cup full.

Then just as you sigh a breathe of relief at getting into the cubicle low and behold there is another one on the back of the door. Now in normal public loos in the womens (obviously i can't comment on the gents) you get an aray of ads for ointment for 'down below' problems which really cheers the occasion along and then sparks the 3 year old off on a "why is the lady in the picture playing with her Girlie bit?" - dear god i just wanted to pee !!!!

Oh and in a resturant it is a completely different matter. There you have the establishment asking you to book a do ie a party, xmas lunch, or valentine meal (very romantic) - great idea "call our reservations line on ...." so i'll just do that now then shall I? or I could just write the number down for later only theres no loo paper to do so on - the PR guys didn't see that one coming now did they.

Our local Itailian goes a step further, language lessions on the loo, or 'looaphone' as I refer to it. So I can answer my call of nature and leave the little room knowing how to say "where is the nearest police station" in Itailian - now that is nearly worth queuing for.

Our local council is now the proud owner of a smartcar come mobile CCTV. Every day it can be seen roaming the roads booking anyone that so much a stops at a traffic light. It is the talk of the town and really getting people going.
This latest bit of kit is most readily seen at rush hour of course.
Now three mornings a week I join this rush hour traffic but on foot rather than in my car. My general observation is that it is not actaully the cars causing the problems but the dogs on the school run.
I don't mean the state of the mums at the gates (that is another disscussion) but the number of people that seem to use the school run as a chance to walk the dog. This is causing gridlock on our pavements. I have nothing against the domestic dog but please keep them out of my way.
Every morning I have to play the tiresome game of dodge the dog. They are everywhere. I have to swerve the buggy complete with the 3 year old on the buggy board (which i use only to keep my daughter from stepping in the doggy doos on the way to playschool) like a drunk drive on a country road. It puts 5 minutes on my journey time and there is not a grimmer domestic job than picking doggy doos out of trainer and pushchair grips with a 3HB pencil, not to meantine cleaning the hallway carpet because some has hidden too well.
This is now on top of the scooter problem of which no child in our area seems to have the ability to put one foot in front of the other but instead can rest one on a plank of steal and push with the other. It is manic we get poked by handle bars, toes gone over by the wheels and once again it is the non dog/scooter owner that has to dodge out the way because the scooter take 5 minutes to turn from a straight course.
So lets leave the cars that cause no problem alone and instead get the smart CCTV to sort out the dogs and scooters that are holding us all up.