So we're in the midst of a British heatwave, and as we all know they don't last long, blink and you've missed it. In fact as I sit here, typing away, with my aloe-vera bathed skin, I'm certain by the time anyone gets around to reading this post, there will be rain against the windows and clouds in the sky. It is England after all. I'm not usually one for sunbathing in England, hanging around in beer gardens or even remotely attempting to lap up the sun. Of course I adore the days that bit more when the skies are blue and the temperatures sitting nicely above twenty, but I much prefer those days to appear on holiday and not on my own home turf. Call me a bit of a bore, but I don't particularly enjoy a British heatwave.


It's no secret I love to shop. It's usually for my boys, there is more chance of seeing flying pigs that there are of me going a month without grabbing something for them. We're heading away in June and of course, these boys grow at a rate of knots so it means they've needed all new pieces for their summer wardrobe. I does sting a little knowing that they're only going to be in these clothes for a matter of weeks or, if we're very lucky with the British Summer, then months but I'm somewhat doubtful. You can imagine my surprise and equal delight when I heard there was a way to potentially get money back, from just buying the things you would buy anyway.


On Monday the 16th of April, anyone with a child aged 3 or 4 who would be starting school in September, found out exactly what school it would be that their child would attend. It was a big day, and I felt it. As the hours began to fade away and midnight drew closer, I hoped against everything that I'd get an email at midnight or be able to log onto the system to discover Noah's fate. I'd heard tales of people being left till five o'clock in the evening before they could know the outcome, that to me was torture, I mean I'd gone four and a half months already since submitting the application yet a few more hours felt wholly unreasonable.