Hi I'm boobellina (boo for short) and I'm a Mum, cake maker, un-published but un-deterred writer, wife, feminist and champion level procrastinator.  

I dress almost exclusively in black but love colour.  Not pastels, toddler bright colours.  Especially violet purple.  My dress with be black but my accessories, house, stationery and children will resemble an explosion in a paint factory.

I'm a Mum of 2 nutty girls.  A 10 year old on the autistic spectrum and a 2 year old in the destructive stage.  Our house is mainly chaos with a harassed looking woman standing in the middle of the living room screeching "home is meant to be a calm and happy place.  If you don't all calm down I'm going to need to think of consequences."

Not quite the hippy skirted zen Mummy I planned on being.

The one glimmer of hope is that story time will ordinarily restore at least a temporary cease fire.  It's maybe just as well that my main motivation for having children was the lack of opportunities in adulting for reading Mog the Forgetful Cat and Where the Wild Things are.

I keep planning to do more gardening but my very naughty dog thinks gardening is a great game and merrily digs up anything I plant and shreds it.  My compost is the only thing thriving. And there is a reason that the dog’s Sunday name is Freddo Herbaceous Macp, it’s in memory of the herb garden that he destroyed within a fortnight of moving in.

I'm a self-confessed stationery addict and hoarder.  Notebooks, washi tape, fountain pens, stickers, sharpies, notecards, I could go on. My only issue is the hoarding, I really struggle to part with it.  If you receive a nice card from me then be amazed and grateful.  I will have sat on the floor for ages agonizing over whether you are worthy of 'this' card.  I should possibly add a disclaimer here that if you have received a horrible card from me that taste is subjective and I will probably love the card you detest.  My taste is questionable at best.

I smashed up my ankle pretty badly last year and ten months on am having to begin to accept that the limp is here to stay and that unless I want to end up the size of a house I might need to learn to eat smaller portions of cake.  It wasn’t even an exciting accident.  I jumped off a rock onto a dry river bed chasing the puppy.  

It means that I’m not particularly active at the moment and my main priority is keeping warm.  It would appear that at 36 I have entered into the joyful stage of feeling the cold in my bones and using my body to predict the weather.  Who knew getting old was this much fun?

I mentioned having to learn to eat smaller portions of cake and this is going to be a real struggle.  I have a massively sweet tooth and very little self-control in the face of cakes, bakes, chocolate and sweeties.  My need for sugar based sustenance has led me to teach myself to bake and now I am a sugar addict with a mission.

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