Rambles from World's End

I am a "dance Mum!" It is a controlling and consuming occupation. Hours per day are swallowed indiscriminately by "training." Then the day of competition looms ever closer so normality and co. turn tail and run for the hills, screaming. Throw a birthday fortnight and school holidays into the mix and the result is an almost complete collapse of an already fragile mental state. Ensuring the eldest has water bottle, dance shoes, dance outfit and sweatshirt in her bag ready the night before can take hours of juggling, yelling and searching. The constant reminders to put the smelly sweaty dance outfits into the washing basket, so that they make it into the washing machine on time, are met with sighs and eye rolls. Fitting a budget around ensuring the food vacuum, that recently emerged from a tweens bedroom, is kept satisfied and energised with a variety of healthy food is next to impossible. The ability to be in two places at once is a requirement, having a neighbo