Class

This week the Great British class calculator has been doing the rounds with people either gloating, being despondent or genuinely surprised at its results. I obviously had to have a go, and I may have secretly started to compare myself to other results I saw floating about online. One interesting thing I discovered was that people I knew were spanning the whole seven groups from Elitist to Precariat. Make what you like from that.

If you're interested I came out slap bang in the middle as a New Affluent Worker which apparently makes me 'young, from a working class background and a home owner'. Well, one of those is definitely right; I'm a houseowner. I don't know what the criteria for 'young' is but I feel I may have shifted out of that one by now. And as for the class? I remember my sociology A-level tutor making the statement that I was middle class due to my dad being an accountant. A sweeping generalisation maybe and I don't how true that really was. I was however raised comfortably, my dad worked hard and funded my university education, a fact my husband has always used to have a dig at me, we went to National Trust properties, we were season ticket holders at Norwich City Football Club, we had holidays on the North Norfolk coast - never going abroad as my dad would say "There's far too many lovely places to see in our country". All in all a balanced upbringing not wanting for much.

Housework & Brownie Points

I came across this blog post on Pinterest and pinned it to my Inspiring/Words board to hopefully give me some inspiration to cheer myself up around the house. Let's see.

10 Simple Things to Make You Happier At Home

www.apartmenttherapy.com

Point 7 made me chuckle.

'Do small favors for your housemates, expecting nothing in return (not even a thank you!). (That's right, I said it: nothing!) Mow the lawn for your husband, but don't expect him to pat you on the back. Make the bed for your wife, but don't try to get bonus points for it.'

A mad week

So this half term has been a wee bit stressful with a series of events giving me weepy eyes, an exploding head and a minor panic attack over letting people down.

I had the intention of covering a full time teaching post from Easter, a decision we didn't make lightly and could only commit to with the help of my in laws who were going to move locally from France to help out. Well, basically be our wraparound childcare so I could get to work before the children turned up - that's kind of important.

Unfortunately a not very pleasant illness has been diagnosed so the in laws, quite rightly, are staying put in France where they are already swiftly being dealt with by their local health service. We now sit and wait.

Meanwhile, the reality set in.

BOOM! Slight panic attack and tears.

"How the hell am I going to get to work and teach 5 days a week and get the children to breakfast club and pay the crappily high fees for after school club where they don't even get a hot meal and then get home to get them a meal and plan my work, and I always said I would never put the kiddies in round the clock childcare to go to work, and, and, and...."

Discussion with hubs ensued and the conclusion was met; I couldn't do it. Ok, fine, I couldn't do it.