tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34331779853664629062024-03-13T11:37:20.111+00:00Celebrity MotherI'm an actress, singer, performer and writer with four children. I couldn't make this stuff up you know darling.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-89879425917351530772010-10-10T22:09:00.000+01:002010-10-10T22:09:04.618+01:00Lifestyle tips for busy mums: the supermarket<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/simon_shek/313608149/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Supermarket by Simon Shek, on Flickr"><img alt="Supermarket" height="240" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/117/313608149_7197d7894b.jpg" width="320" /></a>I continue with my series of Lifestyle Tips darlings. So many of you have got in touch to say how useful you find these tips. So all I can do is continue writing them sweetie! Mwah.<br />
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This time I'm going to talk about the supermarket. But before I start I have a confession to make darlings. I never go to the supermarket. However, I believe I'm able to tap into the minds of ordinary mums with such empathy that I can still provide good advice on how to tackle the supermarket. And reading this, gorgeous mums, I'm sure you'll agree.<br />
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My first rule for visiting the supermarket is: don't take the children. Leave them with the nanny. It's just not worth the headache trying to take the children with you. They get bored and hassle you to buy things. They cramp your style.<br />
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I believe life is a catwalk sweetie and this means you need to look good even in the supermarket. You never know who might be there or when your photo might be taken. A well chosen outfit makes all the difference, you don't want to look like you actually <em>work</em> there do you darling?<br />
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Just as you need to look good, your basket or trolley also needs to look good. Buy quality brands, choose your cheese, coffee and wine very carefully. Your goods need to have some refinement and show some degree of selection and class. This can be learnt darlings, believe me. My Dad worked in a chip factory but I worked my way up.<br />
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You may be wondering where I buy my consumables. Well I have a gorgeous organic hamper delivered to me every Tuesday and I pick up my store cupboard items in Fortnum & Mason. Actually my PA usually picks those up but I will do it occasionally. I believe I need to maintain some connection with the food I eat and where it's from.<br />
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That's all for now my beautiful people. I hope you found my tips useful busy mums! More from me soon. Mwah xx<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/simon_shek/313608149/"><em>Photo credit: are supermarkets seriously as depressing as this picture?</em></a>Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-84955890371064776882010-10-07T19:35:00.001+01:002010-10-07T19:46:28.257+01:00An update on my staffWell gorgeous people, you're probably wondering how my staffing is going. I had that disaster in the summer with <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/07/cautionary-blogging-tale.html">my night nanny leaving after I blogged about her</a>. There have been endless run-ins with my personal trainer and I had to get rid of the dog walker after she started screwing with the labradoodle's head (that doesn't sound right for some reason).<br />
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I never did get round to replacing the night nanny, I actually started getting up in the night by myself! It was hard darlings, let me tell you. It does nothing for your beauty sleep having to get up in the night and tend to the baby. But I managed it and Tulip sleeps through most nights now. I sleep trained her you see, much better than that night nanny.<br />
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The <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/07/ive-put-my-foot-down-with-my-personal.html">personal trainer</a> is still making me do 50 minutes of interval training each day and 40 minutes of weights. He's made me give up cigarettes and alcohol and he's desperately trying to take my espressos away from me. He'll never manage it in a million years darlings. He's cruel. He's a cruel, bitter man. In fact I'm suddenly wondering why he's on my payroll? Oh because he helps me have a <em>fabulous</em> figure darlings! You wouldn't believe I've had four kids.<br />
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Walking the dog is hard work, but <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-to-wear-sensible-shoes-and-its.html">after my shoe dilemma</a> I decided on some Hunter wellies. Now I've never worn them before in my life but Kate Moss showed me photos of her Glastonbury look when she was with that Babyshambles bloke and there's nothing quite like teaming up a bit of Stella McCartney with wellies. If Kate can do it so can I.<br />
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I still don't see eye-to-eye with the nanny, she smells strange to be honest. Not unwashed, just an odd choice of perfume. I keep meaning to buy her a bottle of J'adore. But Gabriel and Tulip lover her, so what can I do? I put my children first darlings, always.<br />
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Oh must dash actually, Patsy Kensit's at the door. Ciao ciao for now xxCelebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-17362938089880120002010-09-29T22:05:00.000+01:002010-09-29T22:05:32.807+01:00Revealing the title of my new book!So exciting darlings! I'll reveal the title after I've given you an update on my week. As usual, things never run smoothly in the CM house. There I was enjoying London Fashion Week and I attended an intimate little designer soiree after hours last Thursday.<br />
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Well I don't know what happened because I wasn't even drinking. But somehow I twisted my right ankle after powdering my nose (I don't use that as a euphemism any more in case you were wondering. Well actually it is a euphemism for going to the toilet but not that other thing which it is a euphemism for. I digress), I blame Jodie Kidd because she was beckoning over to me at the time and I tried to walk too quickly. That Jodie doesn't even need to wear heels she's so tall. Pah.<br />
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Anyways, I had to be carried to my car. So embarrassing sweetie. And then I was laid up for two days! Last Friday saw me stretched out on the sofa with Gabriel and being subjected to CBeebies. What is Waybuloo all about darlings? Can someone explain? Although I do have a soft spot for Balamory. There's something about Archie the Inventor isn't there? The quietly spoken posh ones are always the worst.<br />
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Thankfully my ankle is better now darlings, thank you for asking. And after four days in flats (bleugh) I am finally elevated again.<br />
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And now for my book title! Sweetie, my book is called <strong>'Diamond Nights'</strong>! This is for two reasons:<br />
1. I loved that song 'Diamond Lights' by Glen Hoddle and Chris Waddle. It reminds me of being with Actor Ex-Husband (who I still hold a torch for, it only ended because he was gay)<br />
2. My favourite drink for years was 'Diamond White'. Especially mixed with Malibu. That's how I got pregnant with Leaf. Such fond memories.<br />
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So it's going through some final edits, but hopefully <strong>Diamond Nights</strong> will be in a bookstore near you very soon sweetie! And in case you need reminding, here's the synposis:<br />
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"Fi Fi is a beautiful actress with a terrible secret. She's torn between two men she truly loves: Fabio the singer and Benjamin the actor. Fi Fi has to navigate her way through the celebrity world never really knowing if anyone is who they claim to be. And there's a wealthy media mogul who seems to have it in for her. As she battles with negative media exposure, her lovers, a shoe addiction and Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Fi Fi embarks on a path into her past which yields up a tragic family story which changes her life forever."Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-11256226521775794642010-09-22T21:54:00.000+01:002010-09-22T21:54:45.548+01:00Lifestyle tips for busy mums: looking good at the school gate<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rayand/4999839801/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="London Fashion Week Photographers by rayand, on Flickr"><img alt="London Fashion Week Photographers" height="235" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4109/4999839801_d1c5647008.jpg" width="320" /></a>Phew what a week darlings, London Fashion Week always has such an impact on my diary and we're only on Wednesday. I need a lie-down. Burberry was fabulous yesterday and my gorgeous Leaf was in the show. I'm so proud of her although I do worry about her in the modelling world too. It's not a nice world.<br />
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Anyhows sweeties this talk of fashion has made me think about how us mummies dress when we're out and about. So many of you will be doing the school run now and the biggest dilemma is 'What to Wear'?<br />
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There's no doubt you need to impress the school and the teachers when you turn up at the gates. And other mummies too. After all, you're paying a lot of money for your child to attend the school, the least you can do is look the part (I'm aware some children may attend state school, but you probably need to make an effort there too).<br />
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Time can be short in the mornings so I advise you lovely mummies to decide which outfit you're going to wear the night before. I don't often do the school run because the nanny does it, but now and again I feel I should put in an appearance.<br />
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The night before a school run I pour myself a glass of wine and have a browse in my dressing room. I try on a number of outfits and when I've decided on which looks the best I leave that one out for the morning. It only takes a few moments to dress in the mornings and I can get my hair and make-up done in just under an hour too.<br />
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I'm sure you're all keeping an eye on London Fashion Week to see what you need to be wearing for the school run in Spring/Summer 11. I'm loving seeing all the new collections darling. See you at the school gate!<br />
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I hope, as ever, you've found my advice useful sweeties. Ciao ciao for now xxxCelebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-74562550527301960672010-09-15T22:15:00.000+01:002010-09-15T22:15:01.484+01:00Celebration!I've decided to do a little contribution to <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Gallery">The Gallery</a> this week. Celebrate good times, come on! It's a celebration... Are Kool and the Gang still going?<br />
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Anyway darlings, my contribution to the The Gallery is a bottle of bubbly. My favourite tipple sweetie. And I'm celebrating because I'm going to stop drinking! Yes honestly. I haven't been drinking during my <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/09/ive-been-poisoned-by-someone-famous.html">terrible illness</a> and so I've decided I may as well stop. It's not good for you darlings. It's calorific and it gets me into all sorts of arguments and dodgy photos.<br />
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Rock Star has been officially teetotal since 1997. Well he's had to be otherwise he'd have died. He fell of the wagon in 1999, 2000, 2003, 2007, 2008 and last year. But in all fairness to him he went into rehab each time and worked hard on his recovery. I've seen what alcohol does to people and it's not pretty darlings.<br />
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So I'm never having another drink ever again. Not one. Ever. Never again will a glass of bubbly tickle my tongue. At all. Apart from on my birthday next month I'll have one because that's tradition.<br />
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Au revoir booze. I'll celebrate with some wheatgrass juice.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TJE2oY56qUI/AAAAAAAAACs/y0TsuhrbZvA/s1600/champagne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" qx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TJE2oY56qUI/AAAAAAAAACs/y0TsuhrbZvA/s320/champagne.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/e_calamar/423433647/sizes/m/in/photostream/">Photo</a> (did you honestly think I had time to take my own? x)Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-77221661636810754792010-09-10T16:55:00.000+01:002010-09-10T16:55:36.087+01:00I've been poisoned by someone famousWell here I am gorgeous people. Still alive! Amazing really after my week of severe illness. I was poisoned sweetie and it was horrific.<br />
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Last weekend I attended a dinner party at a very famous pop star's house. It was wonderful darlings. I was squeezed inbetween a socialite and a sports star turned TV presenter. Rock Star sat next to one of the Loose Women. I didn't need to keep an eye on him this time because he goes for younger women.<br />
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So we gorged ourselves on exquisite food. I'd actually starved myself all day so I could enjoy the feast. After several nightcaps we staggered home (luckily we live within walking distance). I twisted my ankle in my Louboutins but Rock Star was unable to carry me because he did his back in after a stage dive in 1988. So I had to drag myself home and into bed and thought that was the last of my worries.<br />
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Well my darlings, it's safe to say the toilet bowl and I have been well acquainted for most of the week. The doctor only came out twice in the end, despite me informing his receptionist I was at death's door. He confirmed it was food poisoning but that was all he had to say. Can anyone recommend someone else in Harley Street?<br />
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Apparently a pop star turned actress was hospitalised after being ill too. Very famous pop star is embarrassed and has fired his cook. He sent me a gorgeous bouquet of lilies in the week so he's forgiven.<br />
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My guts are aching and I'm weak from lack of food. I've lost so much weight and I'm looking fabulous on it!<br />
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Bon weekend lovelies xxCelebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-80989048603623954452010-09-02T19:21:00.001+01:002010-09-02T19:25:48.276+01:00Past Life Regression Therapy and meI’ve had a lot of therapy over the years sweetie. LOTS. I’m not sure why I need therapy more than other people, but I think being famous means you’re more likely to need it. And afford it.<br />
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I recommend therapy to everyone I meet darlings. And someone who thinks they don’t need therapy is actually more in need of it than someone who does. Isn’t that funny sweetie? I call it ‘being in denial’.<br />
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I first had therapy when I was a twenty year old model and single mum. My husband had just run off with a fellow model and left me to bring up Leaf on my own. I’d been a child actress and to be honest that screws you up more than anything. My first therapist was Dr T and he showed me how to nurture my inner child. After that I did Hypnotherapy with Dr A and Neuro Linguistic Programming with Dr K. There was some standard counselling with Dr T and then I discovered Aura Cleansing with Madam X. I still have my aura cleansed once a fortnight.<br />
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This week I underwent some therapy I’d not experienced before: Past Life Regression Therapy. I’ve always held the belief that I was a French harlot in Louis XVI’s royal court. It was wonderful fun darlings, let me tell you.<br />
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So for my session with Dr F, I was put under hypnosis and regressed to my past life. I expected scenes similar to Dangerous Liaisons. But do you know what sweetie? I was disgusted with the results. Dr F couldn’t find the French harlot at all, instead he came across Alf a fruit and veg seller in Borough Market who ended up dying in a workhouse at the age of 34.<br />
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I can only guess Dr F made it all up. What a load of crap. In future I’m sticking to therapy which I know is for real. My aura feels the need for an extra long cleanse next week.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-12915718858431019032010-08-28T19:02:00.000+01:002010-08-28T19:02:53.276+01:00I've had a little bit of an accidentI haven’t got round to blogging about my stressful incident last week. Darlings, I was in a car crash. Shocking isn’t it? Don’t worry though, I’m okay.<br />
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For my last birthday Rock Star bought me a Range Rover. Don’t got me wrong, I love it but it’s huge sweetie. And sometimes when you’re driving a huge car it’s hard to judge how big it is. Most of the time I have a driver but now and again I like to drive myself somewhere.<br />
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Last week I drove Jagger down to Pineapple Dance Studios and watched his class. He was so wonderful I cried. Then it was time to drive back again and I was almost home when I had my crash. On my street the cars have to double park and it’s quite narrow driving through.<br />
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I was just chatting to Jagger about what a sweetie Louie Spence is when I saw my friend, S, driving towards me in her Jag. I’ll do anything for a friend, darling, so I decided to back into a space I’d just passed.<br />
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Well I don’t know what happened next. But suddenly a wall appeared, there was a <em>terrible</em> crunching noise and the tyres seemed to be driving over something. Well I started screaming, S started screaming and then the owner of the house came out and started screaming too. Mayhem sweetie.<br />
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I can’t begin to repeat what the owner of the house and garden wall said to me. Completely foul language darlings. And her biggest claim to fame was being on <em>Strictly Come Dancing</em> a number of years ago. I was shocked she could speak to me and S like that. So I’m like, “Darling, your wall pokes out more than the others so it was bound to get in the way of a car before long and no I’m not paying for it you **** **** of a **** ****.” I don’t like swearing in front of my children but on this occasion it was necessary. Then Jagger joined in the swearing and I had to clip him round the ear.<br />
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So my Range Rover has a dent in it sweetie. The garage is charging £450 to fix it. I don’t even want to think about the gorgeous shoes I could buy for that.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-80954891871259653432010-08-26T12:12:00.000+01:002010-08-26T12:12:21.013+01:00How do you cope when your star has faded?My gorgeous Rock Star is sad. He's sad most of the time darlings. It's because he was once someone who he's not any more. Yes he was an 80s pop star. He had it all. He was in a band, he was followed around by girls, he travelled the world, he had money in the bank and he could do what he wanted.<br />
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Then it turned a bit sour. Drink and drug problems, the band split and there was a court case over royalties (which he lost). Rock Star had to pay a big price for his 80s lifestyle.<br />
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But then he met me darlings! And my beautiful children Leaf and Jagger. And we went on to have two more: Gabriel and Tulip. We've had some happy times together.<br />
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Lately I've noticed Rock Star becoming distracted. He's forgetting simple things and I think he's having a sneaky drink here and there. I can see a dullness in his eyes. He talks a lot of the old days, of when he was somebody. And he's not that person any more. How do you cope when you've been so successful and you know you can't achieve that any more? That other people now have the success you once had? That you're on the pile of forgotten 80s pop stars?<br />
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I've told Rock Star he needs to find some inner fulfilment. But that doesn't work for him. He replies that Jon Bon Jovi is still popular so why can't he be?<br />
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I have no answer.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-68812306032404919522010-08-22T19:50:00.000+01:002010-08-22T19:50:17.139+01:00Lifestyle tips for busy mums: shopping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/THFw0a3RlgI/AAAAAAAAACY/c6e2FITd6sg/s1600/chanel_shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/THFw0a3RlgI/AAAAAAAAACY/c6e2FITd6sg/s320/chanel_shop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I hope you're ready for another instalment of my Lifestyle Tips sweet darlings. This week I'm discussing shopping. Clothes shopping and shoe shopping to be precise. I don't do any other shopping. Apart from buying a bit of art now and again.<br />
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DON'T shop with children. They wipe their greasy faces on Marc Jacobs shift dresses, pick diamantes off Jimmy Choo slingbacks and squirt Fruit Shoot on the floors of designer boutiques resulting in WAGs taking nasty tumbles. I've seen it happen sweetie. Leave children with the nanny.<br />
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Make sure shop assistants help you out. That's what they're there for. It's no use them gossiping about X Factor at the till while you're in the changing room needing to try on a different size. You're spending a huge amount of money in their shop so they should be running around for you. If the shop is likely to be busy, it may be worth phoning ahead to ask if they'll close it to other people for you.<br />
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Shopping can be exhausting darlings. Ensure you schedule in some regular breaks in gorgeous little coffee shops or find somewhere exquisite for lunch. Arrange to meet friends so you can show them what you bought. One of my favourite things about shopping is showing off my haul to a close girlfriend! Just love it sweetie. <br />
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And having written this I'm now <em>itching</em> to get down to Sloane Street as soon as the shops open tomorrow. I do hope you busy mums have found my tips helpful. Ciao for now lovelies! xxx<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/uggboy/4087125236/sizes/m/in/photostream/">Photo</a>Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-22495851935398082692010-08-19T07:43:00.000+01:002010-08-19T07:43:00.694+01:00The nanny's on holiday but I'm coping<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TGxZEOGh14I/AAAAAAAAACU/TyceyV6DvWw/s1600/nanny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TGxZEOGh14I/AAAAAAAAACU/TyceyV6DvWw/s320/nanny.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>My nanny went on holiday on Tuesday darlings. Such a strange day to go on holiday isn't it? A Tuesday. Anyways. Having resigned myself to no longer having a night nanny I decided I would risk it and be nanny-free for a week. I read blogs written by so many women who do this mummy stuff <em>all by themselves</em>. Hats off to you sweeties. Amazing stuff.<br />
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So on Tuesday I got the children up and gave them breakfast and Gabriel threw his bowl of Cheerios on the floor and I had to go outside to have a cigarette and calm down. Then I bribed them with biscuits and put them in front of the telly. My wonderfully gorgeous friend K (actress and organic farmer) rang and invited me to lunch and said her nanny could have my kids too for the day. Problem solved! So we had a lurrrvely long lunch and a sneaky little shopping expedition.<br />
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The evening was hard though. Somehow the nanny gets Gabriel and Tulip in bed by 7pm. But by 9pm they were still wide awake and Gabriel managed to cause some serious damage to our fireplace with his Ninky Nonk. Now it won't flame properly (this is the <a href="http://www.robeys.co.uk/pages/heating/fireplaces/bellfires/vertical_bell_lg.php">one we have</a>). Rock Star went into one of his rages and had to be pushed out onto the terrace while I got the children to bed. Stress darlings.<br />
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Yesterday I was tired so I got an agency nanny in for the day. She took the children to London Zoo and I lay in bed with a migraine. Motherhood is hard work. But today I'm up early, raring to go and I've had lots of espressos. I will take the children out myself today darlings. Even if it kills me. That's a sacrifice for you. Mwah.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-67844431286618454712010-08-14T22:48:00.000+01:002010-08-14T22:48:29.642+01:00Lifestyle tips for busy mums: air travel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TGcOPsd8GqI/AAAAAAAAACQ/fuAK2TyxsZM/s1600/plane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TGcOPsd8GqI/AAAAAAAAACQ/fuAK2TyxsZM/s320/plane.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Oh dear darlings, I've been a bit remiss with my Lifestyle Tips series. I don't believe I wrote one last week. So apologies to those of you who were waiting for my next piece of thoughtful advice. Your wait's over - here it is!<br />
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This piece of advice is inspired by my <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/08/back-home-after-very-stressful-flight.html">recent trip</a> to New York. Air travel is a necessary part of modern life, it has to be endured sweetie. Flying with children is hard work. It's bad enough being confined with children in the space of your own home, but being stuck in a pressurised metal tube 30,000 feet in the air with children can be torture darlings. Here are my tips:<br />
<ul><li>Although it can be tempting to watch the pennies and fly economy, believe me sweetie it's worth every extra penny to fly business class. More space is a godsend. Just a few extra quid and you make life so much easier for yourself</li>
<li>Take someone with you to watch the children. You need a break: time to watch a film, enjoy a drink, read a magazine or get a bit of shut-eye. Taking your nanny is an extra cost because you have to pay for her ticket and time, but it's worth it so she can keep an eye on the children while you enjoy your flight</li>
<li>A beauty bag in your hand luggage will help keep you refreshed on the flight. Personally I never fly without my <a href="http://uk.clarins.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/beauty-products_face-oils_blue-orchid-face-treatment-oil_C010401002_10201_11751_-11_32145">Clarins Blue Orchid Oil</a>. Make sure each bottle is under that amount of fluid you're allowed to take in your handluggage. Having your limited edition Commes des Garcons Daphne perfume confiscated from your vintage Louis Vuitton by a gruff, hairy airport security woman is painful darlings.</li>
</ul>Well I hope you busy mums find this useful. Until next time gorgeous people! Ciao Ciao xCelebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-28578248430130395672010-08-12T07:09:00.003+01:002010-08-12T07:09:00.594+01:00Did I tell you I have a book deal? Introducing my bookI've been so busy the past few days and that's because I've had endless meetings with my ghost writer. I'm writing a book you see darlings and this ghost writer is helping me. As far as I'm concerned I don't need a ghost writer, I'm fully capable of writing it all myself. But I'm a busy lady and apparently the publisher wants this ghost writing woman to do it.<br />
<br />
I can't concentrate when I'm meeting with ghost woman. I hate to say it sweetie but she's scruffy. There she is at my kitchen table talking about plotlines and all I can think about are her split ends which need trimming and the gorgeous acrylic nails she could cover up her bitten stumps with. And so little make-up. A woman of her age needs to make an effort. Make-up free at 19 is passable, at 29 it's dodgy and at 39 it's fatal. Don't even get me started on no make-up at 49 and beyond.<br />
<br />
I've given ghost woman numerous make overs in my head during our sessions. Maybe I should be a stylist instead of a writer?<br />
<br />
I know you're just desperate to know what my book's about so here's a taster sweetie. It's fiction but loosely based on aspects of my life: "Fi Fi is a beautiful actress with a terrible secret. She's torn between two men she truly loves: Fabio the singer and Benjamin the actor. Fi Fi has to navigate her way through the celebrity world never really knowing if anyone is who they claim to be. And there's a wealthy media mogul who seems to have it in for her. As she battles with negative media exposure, her lovers, a shoe addiction and Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Fi Fi embarks on a path into her past which yields up a tragic family story which changes her life forever."<br />
<br />
This is the blurb I've written myself. I don't need a scruffy ghost woman do I darlings?Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-27636264290064974262010-08-09T09:32:00.001+01:002010-08-09T09:32:00.193+01:00I have to wear sensible shoes and it's the dog's fault<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TF8lpPTRK3I/AAAAAAAAACM/lgI2IlqaMBI/s1600/ugg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="245" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TF8lpPTRK3I/AAAAAAAAACM/lgI2IlqaMBI/s320/ugg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Well my lovelies I don't think I got round to explaining what happened to my dog while I was in New York. He went walkabout and no one seemed to notice he was missing for the first couple of days. Rock Star and Jagger made some half-hearted attempts to find him but it was down to me, when I was jetlagged, to finally track him down.<br />
<br />
My dog is called Dolce and he's a labradoodle, I may have mentioned this before. He's gorgeous and cuddly and very stupid. Just like Rock Star really. I go for a certain type darlings. To cut an extremely long boring story short, I found Dolce living at the house of a former soap actor in a neighbouring street. The former soap actor seemed to be under the impression Jagger had loaned Dolce to him. I don't understand why. Anyway this former soap actor has been acting quite strangely ever since he was (prematurely in his view) written out of his soap. And because his character died there's no prospect of returning. Pesonally I think he's having a bit of a breakdown about it. But there was still no need to nick our dog.<br />
<br />
It's quite clear Dolce doesn't consider me to be the one in charge. He doesn't think anyone's in charge and this is part of his problem according to my Dog Psychotherapist. She's suggested I start walking him myself instead of employing a dog walker. I really don't have the time, but I guess I'll do it if Dolce then realises I'm his pack leader.<br />
<br />
But taking a dog for a walk means going for a proper walk. I don't have any shoes I can schlep around Primrose Hill in. So I've had to borrow the nanny's troggy Ugg boots. They're two sizes too big and I've had to disguise myself while wearing them because if any paps get a picture of me wearing them the papers would have a field day.<br />
<br />
And I didn't realise stupid Ugg boots aren't waterproof. So I marched through a few puddles after we'd had those storms the other day and now they're ruined. The nanny was in tears. I gave her twenty quid to buy some new ones and she cried even more. Do you know why? The frigging ugly things cost 160 quid that's why! 160 quid!<br />
<br />
Don't worry darlings, I've given her 160 quid. So hopefully she'll be happy again. But my sensible shoe problem remains unsolved. A friend has suggested Birkenstocks. I made a sign of the cross and ran away. I couldn't do it to myself, just couldn't do it sweetie.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/uggboy/4437752147/in/photostream/">Photo credit</a>Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-48889832588850336942010-08-07T19:39:00.001+01:002010-08-07T19:43:37.062+01:00Paris Hilton's new best friend<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennifersu/4774176004/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Paris Hilton in South Africa for 2010 World Cup by Jennifer Su, on Flickr"><img alt="Paris Hilton in South Africa for 2010 World Cup" height="233" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4143/4774176004_81b63a846c.jpg" width="320" /></a>Photographer ex-Husband called me last night, "Have you seen who Leaf is hanging out with now?"<br />
"Who darling?"<br />
"Paris Hilton. There are photographs of them together in the VIP lounge of some club in LA,"<br />
"So what do you want me to do it about it?" Well he launched into something about Paris Hilton being a bad influence and he didn't want Leaf having anything to do with her and that it was all going downhill from here and the next degenerate was likely to be Lynsey Lohan in which case he would be reporting me to Social Services. So I'm like, "Darling you're thoroughly stupid if you think Social Services would be the slightest bit interested in a twenty year old hanging out with wild child celebrities in LA."<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I do worry about my gorgeous Leaf. But she can look after herself and she needs to learn who the good people are to hang out with and who the bad ones are. And if I tell her not to do something she's going to do it all the more isn't she? Photographer ex-Husband doesn't understand this. He's never brought up any of his children, he usually deserts them in infanthood as he moves onto the next wife.<br />
<br />
"I would be happier if she was living in this country where we can keep an eye on her. Why can't you introduce her to some more sensible celebrities like that girl off of Harry Potter who's just chopped all her hair off?" I told him the 'sensible' ones are usually the worst. I'm not implying Emma Watsername is one of these, but you just don't know.<br />
<br />
I shall give my darling Leaf a ring tomorrow, I do miss her. And she's looking so thin these days. I know models have to be thin but sometimes it doesn't seem right. And I need to hear the latest goss on Paris too.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-48478439947540306312010-08-05T08:32:00.006+01:002010-08-05T08:32:00.252+01:00A post in which I feel forced to be seriousThere have been rumblings darlings, and not the sort which Deflatine can cure. No I'm talking rumblings about my blog. And they've come from different directions all at the same time so I'd like to make it clear I'm not pointing my finger (which is very well manicured at the moment by the way).<br />
<br />
The mummy blogging community is a wonderful one where people are friendly and supportive. I'm finding it's also a community where a blog like mine can be viewed with suspicion.<br />
<br />
Is my blog fact? Is it fiction? Is it a blurring of the two? I choose to let my readers decide. There have been suggestions that I'm unoriginal, unauthentic and on the make. Again I let my readers decide on those first two. And on the last point: 'on the make'? <em>Seriously sweetie</em>? If I were farming followers on twitter or had a big 'contact me here PRs' badge on my blog then possibly. But only possibly.<br />
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I'd like to assure anyone who's (unnecessarily) feeling threatened by my appearance that I harbour no ambitions. They're reserved for other parts of my life.<br />
<br />
So it's with some trepidation I tread through your blogging community darlings. Thank you to everyone who reads and leaves gorgeous comments on my blog. And I've even been tagged with a meme! I read lots and lots of blogs but comment on few. I'm not sure how I'm received much of the time.<br />
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Why do I write this blog? Escapism. Oh and <em>fun</em>. I like to laugh. I almost forgot that in this uncharacteristically serious post.<br />
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My blog is a form of self-expression. Like everyone else's. If it's too different, or too similar, to other blogs out there well what can I say? I've written as me for a long time, just not in such an accessible online place before.<br />
<br />
So I'll let you decide whether you want to read or not. I'm not forcing anyone to. People do read and that makes me feel warm inside. It's a nicer feeling than a glass of bubbly and that's saying something darlings.<br />
<br />
Here are two actual facts about myself:<br />
1. I'm a mother<br />
2. I have feelings<br />
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If you have an opinion well that's wonderful and feel free to share it. Just please do it nicely, I may not be open about who I am but I do ask you to remember point two above.<br />
<br />
I now feel the need to buy a very expensive handbag. Ciao ciao xCelebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-40998711332975840922010-08-04T17:58:00.000+01:002010-08-04T17:58:57.492+01:00Back home after a very stressful flightI'm safely back home now darlings, but not without drama. As usual it was the nanny's fault. I kindly let London nanny and New York nanny have a night out last night (while I looked after my own children!). I reminded them that we were on the red eye back home so they shouldn't stay out too late.<br />
<br />
Well they did. And they drank too much. I had to put London nanny under the shower and feed her espresso to sober her up for the flight. I'm not sure it worked and she spent most of the flight in the toilet. While I had to look after a nine month old and a three year old all on my own! It was awful darlings. Gabriel was running up and down the aisle while Tulip kept crawling under my seat. I couldn't read Tatler or have a drink in peace. At one point I hammering on the toilet door yelling at the nanny to come out and help me, but an air stewardess escorted me back to my seat and told me to calm down. The cheek.<br />
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The nanny is now in her bed and in my bad books. New York nanny is also in my bad books but she's about 5,000 miles away so can't annoy me at the moment.<br />
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Life's such a stress at times. I wanted to arrive back home cool, calm and collected for a romantic evening with Rock Star. Now that plan's gone tits up. And the dog's gone missing. I can hardly get a word out of Jagger as he's killing something on his X Box. I think he mentioned the dog was living with a neighbour but I don't know which one.<br />
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It's still nice to be back darlings.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-79383118285929544202010-08-02T22:08:00.000+01:002010-08-02T22:08:55.468+01:00The Gallery: playtimeI suppose I could write something about my children for <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Gallery">The Gallery's Playtime theme</a> this week. But I won't darlings, because my life is dominated enough by children so this post is going to be about me for a change. What's playtime for me? <em>Shopping</em> sweetie, did you guess?<br />
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My playground is King's Road and I have to visit at least once a week to splurge at Furla, Designers Guild, Anthropologie, Comptiors des Cottoniers, Molton Brown, Aftershock, Cath Kidston, All Saints, Space NK, Coccinelle, the list goes on. And not forgetting Peter Jones of course (the store not that dragon man, although his wife is lovely).<br />
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No trip to King's Road is ever complete without a long lunch at Benihana or a glass of something at Juju.<br />
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In fact writing about King's Road while in New York is making me feel homesick.<br />
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I'll be back home soon darlings.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TFczc-ZXWFI/AAAAAAAAACI/rTc4BJOK2EM/s1600/shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TFczc-ZXWFI/AAAAAAAAACI/rTc4BJOK2EM/s400/shop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/maong/2127573502/">Photo credit</a> <em>(because I've been to King's Road a million times but never took a photo of it)</em>Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com6New York, NY, USA40.7143528 -74.005973140.4541228 -74.47289210000001 40.9745828 -73.5390541tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-4492242075612566232010-08-01T20:28:00.000+01:002010-08-01T20:28:37.712+01:00New York and a 'little' wedding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TFXKco6AHhI/AAAAAAAAACE/Milp6Kso_tQ/s1600/manhattan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TFXKco6AHhI/AAAAAAAAACE/Milp6Kso_tQ/s320/manhattan.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>Manhattan truly is an Isle of Joy darlings. It was that good for Ella Fitzgerald so it's good enough for me too. I'm back in our apartment which overlooks Central Park. I got back from elsewhere in the state earlier today as I went to a little wedding yesterday sweetie. A bit of a famous wedding actually, nudge, nudge, wink, wink. I never name drop darlings so I can't tell you any more. But Chelsea did look absolutely gorgeous.<br />
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On Friday I decided to have a family day out in Manhattan. I took the nannies and the children shopping and then we had a stroll in Central Park. While I browsed the shoes in Saks an unpleasant odour filled the air. Gabriel was the first suspect so without a thought London nanny picked him and sniffed his bum. I shrieked in horror, "We're in Saks, Fifth Avenue, darling! You don't just pick up a toddler and sniff its arse!" I told her what an embarrassing disgrace she was and sent her off to change him. I had to comfort myself with a gorgeous pair of Jimmy Choos.<br />
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In the afternoon we had our Central Park stroll. All went smoothly until Gabriel ran off after some smelly mongrel dog. New York nanny gave chase only to twist her ankle and roll about wailing on the grass. Can you believe I had to half-carry half-drag New York nanny back to our apartment? More embarrassment. I even bumped into one of my extremely wealthy neighbours Dolores J Bruebaker (you may have heard of her) on the way. The shame. I don't expect any of this happens to Victoria Beckham.<br />
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But yesterday more than made up for Friday's stress. I do love a good wedding, it made me wonder if Rock Star and I should tie the knot after all.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-2516230877404980342010-07-29T10:11:00.001+01:002010-07-29T10:12:31.024+01:00The not so huge revelation about my 14 year oldI'm off to New York later today, I can't wait darlings. I'm taking Gabriel and Tulip with me and the nanny. I also have a New York nanny so my London one can even take some time off and do a bit of shopping! I'm very generous like that.<br />
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Last night I had a frustrating conversation with Rock Star about Jagger. If you've read any previous posts you may remember that gorgeous Jagger is taking dance classes during the school holidays. All he wants to do is dance. And he's good at it sweetie, he loves to practise in our garden. His favourite at the moment is Modern and I love to stand on the terrace with a cigarette and watch him.<br />
<br />
Well Rock Star was acting strangely most of yesterday and then in the evening he poured me a glass of my favourite bubbly and asked me to sit down. I didn't know what to expect, my first thought was that another love child had made itself known.<br />
<br />
"I'm worried Jagger's gay," was all he said.<br />
"Gay? He listens to Kylie, his hero's Louie Spence and his father's an actor. Of course he's gay darling, I've known it since he was five years old." Rock Star didn't seem too happy to hear this and suggested I could have told him earlier. So I said what was there to tell? He must know about these things because he was famous in the eighties when everyone was gay, they just pretended they weren't. Even Elton John and Freddie Mercury got married (not to each other), that's how much everyone was gay and pretended not to be.<br />
<br />
So we then had an argument about who was gay in the eighties and who wasn't. I was willing to accept everyone in Spandau Ballet was straight but I was less sure about Duran Duran. But what upset Rock Star the most was my suggestion that he was probably a bit gay in the eighties too. What's his problem about being gay anyway? So we've now fallen out and it's probably just as well I'm off to New York for a break. Relationships are stressful aren't they darlings?Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-33574316729734297582010-07-27T16:44:00.000+01:002010-07-27T16:44:24.761+01:00The Gallery: NatureWell this <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Gallery">Gallery</a> theme has me stumped this week because I'm not a nature person. I like firm ground under my feet suitable for heels and a gorgeous delicatessen or wine bar on every corner.<br />
<br />
The countryside is lovely for driving through, I can understand why people say it's pretty. But I visited once and that wasn't so pretty. Everything was a bit muddy and untidy. My heels sank into the ground and I got mud on my Armani swing coat. I was not a happy bunny. And the countryside gets smelly too doesn't it? All those cows and pigs and things.<br />
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I suppose you can find nature in your park and garden. I do like colourful flowers, they're good. But they attract bees and wasps and all sorts of buzzy things which I'm not so keen on. And I must have sweet blood because I get bitten by <em>everything</em> darlings.<br />
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Put simply, I'm not a nature fan. But I will make the best effort with the Gallery this week because there is a prize of Green & Black's chocolate. If I win I shall squirrel it away under my mattress where my personal trainer can't find it.<br />
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So I present to you my nature picture: flowers.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TE794pEq5_I/AAAAAAAAACA/JwUBZ0s8pgU/s1600/DSCF3126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" hw="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TE794pEq5_I/AAAAAAAAACA/JwUBZ0s8pgU/s400/DSCF3126.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
And these are the most perfect flowers. Pourquoi? Well they don't attract buzzy things and they don't need watering and they look beautiful forever. Yes darlings, they're fake!Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-70555379467455376912010-07-27T13:09:00.000+01:002010-07-27T13:09:13.257+01:00Technorati claimAFCCXWY6WQSM<br />
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I have no idea what this is sweetie. Someone told me I should do it, so I've done it.<br />
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I'm now off to browse <a href="http://www.christianlouboutin.com/#/the_collection/Spring Summer 2010">these shoes</a>. Far more interesting. Ciao Ciao!Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-68681542785882592122010-07-26T08:17:00.000+01:002010-07-26T08:17:00.305+01:00Who I'd put on the naughty step<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEynJ9ci1aI/AAAAAAAAAB8/n34KVvOkAkY/s1600/chocolate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" hw="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEynJ9ci1aI/AAAAAAAAAB8/n34KVvOkAkY/s200/chocolate.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I've been tagged with my first ever meme! Isn't that exciting sweetie? The gorgeously blooming <a href="http://www.pantswithnames.com/">Pants With Names</a> has challenged me with who I'd put on the naughty step. I've given this a lot of thought.<br />
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It's not so much 'who' but 'what'. And do you know what I'd put on the naughty step? Calories darling.<br />
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They're so naughty aren't they? I know you need a certain number of calories each day, but why do they tend to congregate in all the foods I like? It simply isn't fair. I hate celery and that has hardly any calories in it. I'm sure you burn more calories chewing the stuff than it actually contains. But when it comes to yummy cake, bicuits, chocolate and champagne - well they're full of these hideous calories.<br />
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Why is it darlings? I remember my gardener once moaning that slugs never eat weeds. And it's sort of the same with calories being in the foods you like and not being in the foods you don't. As a result we all have to eat these horibble low calorie foods and restrict ourselves with the nice, yummy stuff. It's not fair is it lovelies?<br />
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And why do calories make you put on weight? Why can't they do something else instead? Like make your hair grow faster so you don't need extensions.<br />
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I simply hate the things, they behave like this just to make life difficult and for that reason calories are going on the naughty step until they can stop being in my chocolate muffins and glass of bubbly. I hope it works.<br />
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I'm going to tag the following glamorous bloggers with this meme:<br />
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<a href="http://yummymummyno1.wordpress.com/">Yummy Mummy No1</a> (she has a fantastic taste in handbags)<br />
Sandy at <a href="http://sandycalico.blogspot.com/">Baby Baby</a><br />
Nickie at <a href="http://typecast2000.blogspot.com/">Typecast</a> (I've just discovered the #fridaytwiz!)<br />
Tara at <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/">Sticky Fingers</a><br />
Laura at <a href="http://yummymummyflabbytummy.blogspot.com/">Yummy Mummy Flabby Tummy</a> (the only blog I've discovered so far which plays music!)Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-62421572754875420382010-07-23T09:23:00.000+01:002010-07-23T09:23:00.386+01:00Lifestyle tips for busy mums: hiring staff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEisUtjwP1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/vFkQXpUwqCw/s1600/maid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" hw="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEisUtjwP1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/vFkQXpUwqCw/s320/maid.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>I'm continuing this series of helpful posts darlings. I hope you found <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifestyle-tips-for-busy-mums-salon.html">last week's guide to the salon</a> useful. This week I'm going to tackle an issue which many busy mothers have trouble with: staff.<br />
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I've lost count of the poor mummies I've chatted to on twitter recently about their lack of staff. Help is really important, I can't stress that enough. I have a nanny, a personal assistant, a cleaner, a cook and a driver to help me on a daily basis. I also draft in a personal trainer, stylist and beautician as and when. I also have an agent and a PR. The position of <a href="http://celebritymother.blogspot.com/2010/07/cautionary-blogging-tale.html">night nanny is currently vacant</a>.<br />
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Now I realise I'm fairly priviliged. But I think that most households can accommodate staff if you adjust your budget accordingly.<br />
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Most people should be able to afford a cleaner. Around £10 an hour and mine does 15 hours a week. A cook and driver don't cost much more. Nannies only get paid about £30k but remember you'll need to pay national insurance on top of that and provide holiday, sick and maternity pay. If you're unsure then ask your accountant. Have I forgotten to add accountant to my list? You can pay a nanny less if she lives in with you and consider an au pair as a cheap option.<br />
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So if you need help, busy mum darlings, then have a little sit down with your calculator and see if you can afford to hire one or two people. It really does make a difference and we all need a little break and a rest don't we sweetie?<br />
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More advice from me next week!Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3433177985366462906.post-75708599425075464062010-07-21T11:07:00.000+01:002010-07-21T11:07:00.061+01:00The horrendous Christmas photoshoot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEX87Eyhk-I/AAAAAAAAABw/D7qytfx5uvk/s1600/christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" hw="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_aSEyjHBNLyU/TEX87Eyhk-I/AAAAAAAAABw/D7qytfx5uvk/s320/christmas.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>If you've read my blog lately gorgeous people then you'd have known I had a photoshoot yesterday. This was in my own home *horror* and had a Christmas theme because the magazines are all doing their Christmas issues at the moment. I know darlings, in July. Incredible isn't it?<br />
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So you might know that first of all my curtains and sofas got temporarily replaced. With something exciting? No. Just cream sofas and some burgundy velvet stuff for the windows. Then at 7am yesterday the photographer turned up with his assistant and lugged in huge amounts of equipment. Then the stylists turned up with suitcases of clothes, boxes of Christmas decorations and food and an enormous Christmas tree. A fake Christmas tree. I don't suppose anywhere has real Christmas trees ready at this time of year.<br />
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My poor home was unrecognisable as this team of people trudged through it setting everything up to look like Christmas. Then the stylist and make-up assistant started making me look like Christmas. I didn't like my Christmas look one little bit darling. The stylist had me in a scarlet cardigan. It wasn't even designer. After we'd done the shoot in the living room I looked at the pictures, "You've made me look like Lorraine Kelly," I seethed. I demanded a re-style but they wouldn't relent. They were on a one-day shoot and there was no time.<br />
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Then the caterers turned up and dropped a mozzarella and sundried tomato tart in the hallway as they came in. The photographer's assistant managed to step in it, "Sorry I just trod some flan into your carpet." Flan? Who says flan these days?<br />
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A large already cooked turkey was left in the kitchen for the Christmas feast shoot. No one had banked on Dolce our labradoodle getting hold of it. The food stylist nearly collapsed on my kitchen floor when he saw what had happened. There were actually tears in his eyes. After some work the turkey became a turkey crown although I think everyone was agreed it was not a classy look.<br />
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To be honest darlings, it got too much for me. My make-up was over the top because apparently you pile more on at Christmas, it aged me. My cardigan was depressing me and I was quite pleased when Tulip wiped her nose on it during a quick cuddle. I thought this meant I could finally take it off. "Don't worry about the snail trails, we'll photoshop them out," said the picture editor. Damn.<br />
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I took a brief break on my terrace to have a much needed cigarette. The lovely terrace which has a row of bay trees in terracotta pots along it. As I lit my cigarette and took a deep drag, something caught my eye. The photographer's assistant. <em>Peeing</em> into one of my bay tree pots. "Oi! What are you doing? That was a present from Alan Titchmarsh!" I screamed. He mumbled something about none of the toilets being free. I carried on screaming at him, probably something along the lines of what would he have done if he had needed a shit, etc. The photographer ran out and tried to calm things down.<br />
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By this point I wanted everyone out of my house. I ripped the scarlet Lorraine Kelly cardigan off and threw it at the Christmas tree. I ranted and raged for ten minutes. Then when I calmed down I put the cardigan back on, they re-did my make-up and hair and we shot the glass of champagne and fireplace pictures. After all, I am a professional darlings.<br />
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In the end it was as stressful as real Christmas. And I really can't be doing with two Christmases a year. Next time a magazine wants me for a Christmas issue I'll be otherwise engaged. Unless they pay me seven figures.Celebrity Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10446330897724434980noreply@blogger.com2