Ok, so if you haven’t already figured out that I love to have a laugh at my own expense and have a bit of a habit of experiencing sensational blonde moments, you are about to be introduced to the Haidee my friends know and love.

PEPPA PIG IS A BOY …

According to me anyway! To be fair I never actually WATCHED Peppa Pig, it was always just background noise and I truly thought Peppa Pig was a male pig. I mean, Peppa? That sounded like a boys name and he sounded like a boy … here is the proof that this is not made up – the last comment you read leads me to my next point …

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After another challenging week (much like last week which you can read about here) I believe I deserve to be over indulging in the things that bring me pleasure.

But they are called guilty pleasures for a reason and that is usually because:

A. If your pleasure is a drink or a type of food then they’re probably not that good for you and you are probably having way too much of it;

B. If it’s television then it is probably super trashy; or

C. You probably don’t want people to know you’re into it.

I can answer yes to all of the above where my guilty pleasures are concerned.

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I was recently nominated by Jennifer at The Hollyhock Door to do this challenge so here it is!

I’M A MUM WHO …

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That is me. The anti-fitness queen. The girl who got her mum to write notes to get out of PE, who happily opted for detention if it meant getting out of it, who would pretend to be sick to avoid the high school sports day.

These days you are only likely to ever see me run if I am about to be run over by a bus crossing the road and the last time that happened I couldn’t walk properly for days as my legs screamed in protest and the muscles locked up in my calves as tight as Fort Knox.

This is how I feel about the idea of any kind of strenuous exercise which would be pretty much anything with the exception of walking:

But it wasn’t always like that.

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