Changes

First, some background. This blog used to be called 'Triathlon Widow': basically because that's what I was and I was in desperate need to share my burden with the world via social networky means. Since the last post in December 2011 (the shame), there have been a number of fairly significant changes in my life so thought I'd better update the title and what-not to reflect that.

So, the deal is this:

February 2012 - produced our first child - a wonderful, blonde haired, blue eyed beauty who is essentially a miniature version of her father. I'm going to refer to her as MD (mini-daddy).

January 2013 - returned to work after first maternity leave and promptly got pregnant again - the people at work *love* me. Curently on second maternity leave.

October 2013 - produced our second child - another amazing little girl (although not so little given her 10lb 4.5oz birth weight), brown haired, brown eyed and a miniature version of me. I am therefore going to refer to her as MM (yep, you guessed it, mini-mummy).

March 2014 - realised that my brain had officially turned to mush when I put Topsy & Tim on series link and began to skip forward excitedly to see what was going to happen in the next episode (Topsy gets chicken pox, incidentally. Sounds like it's going to be a 'not-to-be-missed' installment). So I decided I had to do something to get the old grey matter flexing again. Stand aside Woolf and Mrs Gaskell! This blog is back in business and I'm sure will be as inane and ground breaking as it always was. Not. Given that I have pretty much forgotten how to type and spell and form a sentence I'm thinking that the great women of literature will be safe. Probably turning in their graves, more like.

Of course our trusty old friend Triathlon has been a steady constant in my life throughout these changes; except now the bikes don't have their own bedroom but are parked up somewhat annoyingly in my dining room and guest room. OH still refuses to put them in the garage. Fatherhood has brought OH much joy but he still has a very warm and fuzzy place in his heart for swimming, cycling and running. And lycra. And inner tubes and pedals and that weigh 0.0001 of a gram, and stretchy laces and Strava, and protein shakes and the rest of it. So I guess what I'm saying is, that despite my best efforts of giving OH sleepless nights with our nocturnal babies, and putting all sorts of triathlon-shaped obstacles in the way, he's still sticking with it and so therefore, am I.

Lastly, given that it's nearly 10pm and that is my official/total/desperately-need-my-bed, bedtime, I just wanted to explain the new blog title. For the time being at least, my role is mum and housewife (of course the irony that I'm not actually a 'wife' is not lost on me) - and so I thought I might write about that for a bit. The 'not quite' refers to the fact that I'm pretty hopeless at it. And knowing OH's OCD about such things as tidiness and cleanliness and orderliness - and my non-aptitude for tidiness, cleanliness and orderliness, I suspect that the 'revenge' bit of the new title is fairly self explanatory.