Dear So and So - nursery, dog owners, Daily Mail and Blogladesh

Dear nursery staff,

Thank you so much. Missy Woo has had a ball there for the last 3 and a bit years and Monkey had a great time too. We're all going to miss you but we're going to pop back to say hello for Missy Woo to show off her school uniform.

Hope you liked the cake, Monkey and Missy Woo's Mummy.

Dear children,

I am going to miss you when you go away tomorrow. No, really, I am. It's just you sneaking out of bed early and trashing various rooms of the house that I won't miss. And the noise. And the constant demands.

Be good children now for Granny and Grandad.

Lots of love, Mummy

Dear dog owner,

If you notice my child freaking out because of your dog, even if it is on a lead, please attempt to move away from or avoid said child rather making it worse by marching towards the small whirl of arms, legs, screams and red face with dog. Don't make it worse or I'll need your address to send you the therapist's bill.

Yours not-so-faithfully,

Kate

Dear Daily Mail,

I really do wonder. Changing copy to put words in my mouth and then not allowing me to comment on the article online. Hmm. And you're the ones that bang on about freedom of speech, and the Big Brother culture. Pot. Kettle. Black!

No love, Me.

Dear blog readers,

You, on the other hand, have been wonderful (again) (see comments). Your support means the world to me. I'm going to stop banging on about it now or your collective heads won't get through the door.

Love and kisses*, Kate.

Dear Josie, Sian and Eva,

The very best of luck on your Blogladesh trip.

Safe journey, Kate.

*Kisses are non-transferable and non-redeemable as real kisses. I'm not kissing the bloody lot of you!

My brief career as a model, aged 45

Last week, I noticed a press request on Twitter for 45 year old women . It seemed odd - after all, why did you have to be exactly 45? But as I am (45, that is), I replied and was asked to email my details to an address.

Soon, my mobile was ringing. The person calling asked if I could go to London for a photoshoot the following day. I had to say no because I had no childcare. That was that, I thought. Oh well. But then, I got another email explaining they could arrange to send a photographer out to me instead. I said that would be OK and they said they would be in touch.

The phone soon went again when I was out shopping at a local retail park. After a 10 minute chat/interview (me sat in my car) about my attitudes to ageing, my beauty regime, how I kept fit and so on, the lady promised to arrange the photographer. She rang off and a feeling of mild panic set in. It turned out the piece was going to appear in the Daily Mail; not my favourite paper, but there you go.

A photographer was arranged for Friday morning. I panicked about what to wear but I needn't have bothered. When the photographer arrived on Friday, he told me a make up and hair lady was on her way, that the shot was head and bare shoulders and I'd have to wrap myself in a towel to get the shot they needed. The make up lady started doing a natural make up look when she arrived, which pleased me as I don't really wear lots. It did however seem to involve a lot of make up; about twice what I'd put on. Then she set about my hair with straighteners. By the time we'd finished, the photographer had turned my lounge into a studio with lights, background, the lot.

Sat on one of my dining chairs made up to the nines with a towel wrapped around me having my photo taken probably ranks as one of the more surreal moments of my life.  The photographer took 3 sets of shots - one with my hair back from my face, one with my hair forward and one sort of half way. The photographer was lovely and seemed to take some nice shots. The whole thing took about an hour longer than I had expected, having thought the photographer would turn up, sit me on a chair, take a couple of shots and go again. 

I loved my make up and hair and took lots of pictures of my new look with my mobile after they'd gone. This is my favourite, and it's now looking at you from my every tweet. Lucky you. I have chosen this picture as "A photo I'm proud of" for Week 24 of The Gallery. I was struggling to find something else in my archives that you haven't seen already and you already know I'm proud of Monkey and Missy Woo. I feel a bit arrogant (some may say brave, others stupid) putting a photo of me here but I wanted to tell the story at some point. I do like how I look in this picture and as you will know if you read my blog regularly, I've been losing weight and am making good progress so I'm getting used to a new me. 

Anyhow, that was that. I'll let you know when the article is published and link to it here if it's online so keep checking  this post. It should be later this week. My life as a model is over. Not that I ever had one, but it was a fun couple of hours - and I didn't even have to leave home! 

I must away now to get my beauty sleep. I don't get out of bed for less than 10p, you know.

Update: The article has now been published on the Daily Mail website and you can read it here - argh!!


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I never actually said some of those things in the article and the journalist in the by line accepts that - she says the Daily Mail have edited/changed it but mine is least changed. I DO use moisturiser for God's sake, I'm not that much of a slummy mummy; I just don't wear a lot of make up and mascara is not my favourite thing. Nor did I ever refer to them as trivialities! And I didn't say I'd lost two stone - I don't weigh myself, how can I? Finally, I never said I was "phobic" about operations; I'd just rather avoid unnecessary ones, thank you very much.