Think of a name!

Okay bloggy people and anonymous readers - do you like a challenge?

I'm tasked with thinking of alternative names for my second book 'Blue Line Blues'.
Now we like that name, we think it is catchy but we don't want to put off non-pregnant/wanting to be pregnant/ parent type people.
So... we want to play about with other names.
This book is coming out in September of this year, publishing by Poolbeg, and I'm VERY excited about it. This book is very, very special to me and I want a name that stands out from the crowd.

Now originally it was called
Signed, Sealed, Delivered (carrying on the song theme from RD&T)

And the other suggestion I've received since sending a panicked email out to my bessie mates is
Keeping Mum

Now to save me from driving myself to distraction by googling Carpenter's lyrics, John Denver songs and Stevie Wonder anthems, please post your suggestions below.

And here, to help you, is the blurb

Aoife is 32 and in an on/off relationship with sexy singer Jake. When she finds out she is pregnant, he decides the relationship is most definitely off and leaves her before the pee has time to dry on the stick. Desperate to get him back- and convinced she can- Aoife doesn't tell her parents back home in Derry about her impending arrival until her episiotomy stitches are healing. She then has to return home to face the music - baby in tow and sanity absent without leave. Meanwhile her best friend has been keeping a secret of her own. Beth and her husband Dan have been trying to get pregnant for the past two years. According to the doctors there is no medical reason fortheir failure to conceive. And if there is no reason, there can't be a problem can there? Add a gorgeous gardener, an overbearing mother, a perfectly annoying sister-in-law and a well meaning aunt, - all with secrets of their own - into the mix and you have 'BLUE LINE BLUES'

Ma ma ma me me me me more Milkshake

For those who saw my mini nervous breakdown yesterday rest assured, I am much calmer and not as likely to kill anyone today.

There, that's better, isn't it?

So here's a little update on where we are right now. Book Three - the thus far named 'Jumping in Puddles' is about 43,000 words down and has had the seal of approval from the agent. The fact that the agent likes it is good. If she had have told me she didn't like it, i imagine I would not be posting a bright, sunny picture of a children's television presenter today. No, I would most likely be lying prostate, tearing at the ground below me crying: "Why God, why?".

This means I can now continue writing the book (except for tonight as Desperate Housewives is on hmmmmm Mike.... hmmmmm Tom) and hopefully finish it by the September deadline (or ideally earlier than that if at all humanly possible as summer will most likely be spent editing book two 'Blue Line Blues'.)

I have realised I define myself a lot my by writing.

I am not sure that is a good thing.

In other news, I attempted to do my Strictly Come Dancersize DVD at the weekend. I did the warm up - although seeing the flat stomach on Erin Boag was enough to make me want to hurl my gargantuan mass at the TV. Anyway, I rolled my hips when told and shook my booty. I then attempted the salsa work out, but by the time Karen Hardy explained the moves I had cooled down again and the boy was done his bath and demanding my attention.

Still... the warm up was better than nothing? Non?

I ate chips on Monday night. They were lovely. I had just been visiting my sick granny in hospital and didn't get home til 9 and by that stage the thought of my battery farm reared chicken breasts was unappealing (fecking Jamie fecking Oliver) so I went for some battery reared chips instead. With cheese. I felt all rebellious and wild and non-flat-stomachy. Ha, take that Erin Boag!

I realise I am definining myself a lot by my not-flat stomach.

I am not sure that is a good thing.

Yesterday the boy was, in his own words, "a little bit sick". He had a wee cough and a bit of a temperature. It was nothing that Calpol wouldn't and didn't cure so he was packed out to school as per normal and joyously told the teachers of his new prized possession - a pair of £3 wellie boots. He gets ever so excited when the weekend rolls about because then he can wear them again.

On Sunday we went for a walk together - him wellie booted to his oxters - and climbed a big hill using pretend ropes to pull us up. Then we walked through a mucky field and jumped in some muddy puddles and his rosy cheeks were red from the cold and from grinning so much at the simple fun he was having.

Because of his general cuteness and wee-bit-sickness I gave in yesterday and sent the email I had promised to for ages to Milkshake (Channel 5, Kids TV) to ask that he get the Milkshake Thumbs Up for being so good.

He did, this morning. They read it out (Naomi - our favourite was the presenter and thus is why she is pictured above) and his face lit up.

I realise I am defining myself a lot by my parental status.

I am sure this a good thing.