I count myself lucky this year that I have not come under huge pressure from my little treasures for Unsuitable Items. Most Septembers, I have been held hostage while terrorist demands, for anything from high heeled school shoes (yes, it is possible to get them, even Clarks have the odd brainstorm, and of course Child One’s friends all have them) to ridiculously expensive school bags (Cath Kidston, Roxy) and even pens (’Mont Blanc or similar, please Mum’) have rained down on my head.

This year, all has been suspiciously calm. That’s partly because I came across some Roxy schoolbags in TK Maxx in June, and lovely Tescos have helped us out with shoes and a coat. We did the whole pencil case thing in France, when we popped over to visit relatives. French felt tip pens are, of course, intrinsically cool and French pencil cases, well, eat your heart out rest of the school is all I’m saying.

Child Two did floor me with a sudden demand for a skort (trust them to have invented a whole new garment since I was at school) but, as the school’s own games outfitter is notoriously slow, I am going to be able to get away with purchasing it on the cheap on the way back from school on Monday.

Phew! I feel almost relaxed about it all. But that’s bound to be because I’ve forgotten something, obviously. For any of you still getting your bits together, it’s really worth checking out Voucher Codes  and their Most Wanted blog. Yes, they are paying me a bit to mention them, but it is seriously a good idea to check them out. I’ve got quite in the habit of trawling for codes before I do any internet shopping. They are particularly recommending their Mothercare , Sainsbury’s and Debenhams discounts. Hope you find something useful! Happy shopping.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQHB1zd1f5M&feature=related

And:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5SxC1azbjY&feature=related

Or even:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_Vh8JJR1OQ&feature=related

Ah, the bitter-sweet sting of nostalgia! Will anyone ever sigh over Numberjacks in the same way? I think not.

We came back from our many staycations (of which more in future episodes) to a satisfyingly huge parcel. It turned out to be from those delightful people at Tesco!

As you see from the pictures, a frenzy then ensued as we ripped open the brown paper, revealing a lovely big sturdy black box, tied with a bow and with a magnetised flap (how I love these magnets they close these things with nowadays. Lovely snap sound and it’s so neat and clever). Inside were about the only thing that could get us enthusiastic about going back to school – a lovely coat and pair of shoes for Children One and Two, the lucky beasts.

I must admit that the contents were not a surprise to me – apart from the packs of gel pens and stationery bits and bobs that lovely Tesco had dotted in with the clothes. It’s long been a source of deep sorrow that the girls’ school eschews crisp white blouses, which you seem to be able to get free with cornflakes, and instead makes them wear a tricksy shade you can only get from John Lewis Oxford Street for £24.99 a throw, so I had asked Tesco if we could go off-piste a bit, not bother with traditional bits of uniform, and concentrate on the peripheries. This they did brilliantly. I’m sure the girls will be in for a world of trouble with their ballet pumps (which will be impossible to keep on) and military style coat (a bit like the one poor dear Cheryl Cole wore on the X Factor to sing Fight for your Love, shortly before dumping Ashley, getting divorced and hanging out with that odd dancer), but never mind all that.

The best bit is that I can nominate a friend to receive a similar present. I know, we are right up against the back-to-school deadline now, and probably you’ve all got everything, but I’m going to tag the lovely Lulu at Family Affairs and Other Matters in the hope that there’ll be some slivers she still needs, with three little (and not so little) dears to kit out. Enjoy!

We were also sent the Ila Dusk personal alarm to put through its paces. I must confess, though, that at the moment none of the ladies of the house (apart from Mme Bovary) ever go out alone at night. I ought to test the alarm by pulling out the chain – but apparently it makes a 130 decibel wail and I hate loud noises! So I’ll just say that it is rather attractive, a small metal lozenge about three inches long, and has a picture of a lady on it with a twinkle in her eye! I suppose I might have a twinkle, too, if I had a secret yell of 130 decibels to unleash.

Lovely Tilda sent us some of their stir fry rices – I tried the Thai Green Rice and the Peking Rice. Both were really yummy. You just heat in a pan or wok, and add a little chicken, duck or vegetables. I’ve actually since bought more of the Thai Green Rice variety, so it must be good.

We’ve also been sent some lovely tights to try out from Tights Please – some ballet tights and some school ones. When the girls get back from their holiday with Mr X, we’ll be putting them to the test. I’m really hoping these will last – the girls seem to eat school tights!

I’ve just found this priceless video, acted by five year olds, on road rage. Do give it a click, it’s horribly funny – and I mean horribly, because apparently the children scripted it themselves, based, one can only assume, on what they’ve already seen on the roads in their short little lives.

The video is part of the I Respect the Road campaign by AXA Car Insurance, which aims to get us all to act in a more civilised fashion when we’re behind the wheel. It does seem that we all regress to cavemen, or cavewomen, once we’re safely in the driving seat with the horn temptingly placed in front of us.

When I last went to the States, I was really struck by how much nicer it was driving there. It’s partly that there’s a lower speed limit (I think it’s only 50 or 60 on the motorways, about 20 in towns, but correct me if I’m wrong) and partly that people retain a veneer of courtesy. That same reflex which makes people wish total strangers a ‘nice day’ allows them to give way at a crossing without, apparently, losing all sense of self-respect.

I’ve been lucky (so far!) in London – I’m not a particularly aggressive driver and don’t care terribly if people overtake me (except at school run times – then you’d better beware) but I’ve heard countless stories of people being cut up at junctions, and I’ve sailed past quite a few clear cases of road rage, with people yelling, waving fists and generally letting themselves down, in just the same way as the children do in the video.

AXA wants to get a discussion going about the whole issue. You can become a fan of its Facebook page, have a look at suggestions for tackling the problem on its website and even watch an interview between a cab driver and his fare on the whole shouty, beepy topic. Definitely worth a look. Drive carefully now!

Now I don’t particularly like pizza, and I had assumed this outing would be one of many selfless acts of Mummy kindness I would be performing over the holidays for my lovely, but probably ungrateful, offspring. They could both cheerfully eat pizza three times a day, whereas I have an inside-out knowledge of Pizza Express’s salads and pasta menu and haven’t voluntarily touched an actual pizza in years. Still, heroically, I took them to the opening of Fire & Stone’s new restaurant in Spitalfields Market, where we were going to be taught how to make their ’special’ pizzas.

‘Special’ pizzas, I laughed to myself beforehand. As if such a thing exists. What on earth can you do with a lump of dough and a dollop of tomato sauce that hasn’t been done a zillion times before?

Well, as it turns out, quite a lot. The first clue was when the chef mentioned potato pizza. The last time I had a pizza with potato on it was in Venice, when we were being thoroughly ripped off by a nasty little restaurant that we had stopped at simply because we were exhausted and had two starving children in tow. The pizza Margharita we ordered came festooned with bits of old broccoli, carrot and, yes, big thick slices of cold boiled potato. It was basically the proprietor’s supper left-overs from the night before stuck on a pizza. Yuck.

So any mention of potato pizza had me anxiously checking where the exits were. But soon totally delicious smells were wafting through the air. Several beautifully-cooked pizzas appeared from the traditional wood-fired pizza oven and were cut into tempting slices. And, though it was still only 11am, as soon as we were invited to taste a bit, I fell on the pizza just like everyone else.

And it was totally delicious!

A revelation, in what seems to be turning out to be a summer full of revelations. Camping is fun, pizza tastes good – or can do, when the crust is as thin as a delicious salty cracker, and the toppings are as random and curiously compelling as they are at Fire &  Stone.

Among the pizzas we sampled were the Koi Samui, which is basically a lovely Thai take-away on a pizza, complete with baby sweetcorn and coconut curry sauce. We later got a chance to make our own pizzas according to Fire & Stone’s recipes, and I made the Casablanca (love that film!) which turned out to contain quite a lot of the ingredients you’d normally find in a Waldorf salad, including walnuts and blue cheese, and yet it all tasted perfectly at home and quite delectable on a pizza. The New York pizza features the tiny garlic and rosemary roast potatoes, cut into little dice, which are scrumptious, and thows those together with smoked bacon, onion jam and sour cream. Yes, I know it sounds mad – but it really tastes completely yummy. I wasn’t brave enough to go for the London, which has slices of black pudding (which incidentally I’m not sure anyone in London eats anyway, I thought it was more of a northern thing?) but the Canberra was great, with marinated mushrooms, those potato bits again, roast chicken breasts and sour cream. Yes, really. And, along the way, we met lovely bloggers like Sue from London Living and Fabienne from Lost in London. Thanks to Fire & Stone for a fun morning and a complete taste revelation. You can even watch a video of the whole experience here.

Then on Sunday it was off to the gala premiere of Cats and Dogs 2, the Revenge of Kitty Galore. Cats and Dogs 1 is one of our very favourite films, featuring the fabulous uber-villan Mr Tinkles, so we were thrilled to be invited to this one. A gala premiere, apparently, is a premiere without the actual stars of the film. In any case we were very happy to sashay up a satisfyingly long red carpet, though admittedly the paparazzi seemed to be shunning us in favour of taking pics of Gail Porter (huh!) and various dogs, as pets had been invited. The film was shown at the Holland Park open air theatre, which I blush to admit I’d never been to before, but very fine it is too. There were loads of gorgeous doggies milling around, and the girls got goody bags featuring packets of very loud crisps. What with the crisps, the dogs, a lot of children and the open-air nature of the screening, it was sometimes a little difficult to hear the film, but that doesn’t matter as we’ll definitely be getting it on DVD as soon as it comes out. There were some fantastic moments and great visual jokes, and I’d say it’s an excellent film to take the kids to during the holidays. In fact, you’d be barking mad not to see it. Arf arf!

But the rest of it was simply fab. The fire, the candles, the slightly grass-encrusted sausages which were brilliantly cooked by the children, the dash of Dunkirk spirit involved in borrowing sugar (yes, really) from our very organised neighbours.  And for me, it was like a display of all the pages in catalogues I’ve been ignoring for ever. All those different tents, types of folding chair, barbecue buckets – it was a whole new world of accessories which finally now makes sense.

I loved the people-watching, too – the group near us who festooned their little plot with bunting, and who laid out breakfast at the crack of dawn, with a regiment of different types of cereal and ice-cold milk from their sensibly chilled cool bags. Our site was a slightly more relaxed affair, with the grown-ups agreeing from the start that you couldn’t catch salmonella in a day, and a staggered start to our day which involved all members of the party surfacing just in time for lunch. With the beach a few minutes away, and more countryside than you could shake a stick at just over yonder, I was a very happy camper indeed in my hideous fold-up chair. And yes, I admit, I’ve been checking out tents in catalogues ever since. But why do they do them in such yucky colours? Navy blue, military green, boring as hell grey. Why not make them a bit jollier? I’d like a purple one, please. Or at least a floral motif. Well, if you’re going to go for a life under canvas, I think you should make it as camp as a row of tents.

Yes, I’m going camping.

And not even to a civilised place like that one where there are permanent tents and proper loos and you can hire a chicken to play with for the weekend. No, I’m going to a no-holds-barred, feral, muddy (no doubt) proper camping site, where you have to construct your tent yourself and then sleep in it.

God knows what’s come over me.

Well, it’s the children, of course. I sent them off camping with a friend last year, and they loved it. And came back and began 364 days of persuasion, cajoling and outright nagging.

I’ve given in. We’re going with friends who more or less camp for a living. There’ll be someone to put the tent together for me, and someone else to blow up my lilo (I mean, for God’s sake, why would anyone over the age of 3 want to sleep on a lilo? It’s madness, madness I tell you ….). I am getting seriously worried.

It’s partly because the said experienced friends have been ringing up all week with little messages like, ‘you may need to buy a collapsible chair.’ A collapsible chair?? WTF? Why does anyone need one of those? ‘Just get one, or you’ll be in a bad mood.’ Fine. I bought one, from Asda. It’s hideous, naturally.

Then came another little call. ‘You’ll need a lantern.’ A what? Do they even have those outside historical novels? And what on earth will I be doing with it, sending signals to smugglers? ‘You may need it to, er, find your knickers.’ Whaaat? I shall be wearing my knickers, thank you very much. ‘Well, your toothbrush, then. It’ll be dark. Don’t ask any more questions. Just buy one!’

All right, all right. I went to Argos, another thing I never do, to buy something I shall use for a couple of hours. Naturally it’s also hideous.

‘You’ll need marshmallows.’ Hang on, I loathe marshmallows. ‘Ok then, sausages.’ What about a nice bag of rocket salad? Queue hollow laughter. ‘Get the sausages. Oh, and bring a parasol, sleeping bag, plastic plates, matches, candles, loo paper, cutlery …..See you there.’

Fine. So my one night’s camping has cost as much as a night at the Ritz, and the stuff I’ve bought is yucky beyond belief. But somehow, I am still looking forward to it. A whole night’s camping. It could be ….fun.

Unless I find a pea under my lilo, of course. If that happens, I’ll be back before you can say ‘goosedown duvet’.

Wish me luck!

When Weetabix asked me to try its new chocolate variety, I had a cunning plan. I’ve never been massively keen on Weetabix - the biscuits look too much like really harsh bathmats for my liking.  But I do know that they are very good for you, being only wheat, and wholewheat at that. So I decided to get someone else to do the testing for me – my children. Well, what on earth are they good for, these days? You can’t even send them up a chimney to do a decent day’s work any more, as everyone has central heating round here.

So the fateful morning dawned, and a collosal package arrived. A little large, I thought, for 24 Weetabix biscuits, unless they were using a massive amount of chocolate in the new recipe, in which case I was going to be doing  the testing myself after all. But in the box was a nice bowl, a chocolate spoon (I put that away in a cupboard pronto),  a selection of lovely toys from Hamleys and the stars of the show, the new chocolate Weetabix themselves.

The girls obligingly settled down to munch. The package was opened, and we sniffed appreciatively. Yum. ‘It smells of chocolate crispy cake,’ pronounced Child One. A very good start. They were soon tucking in, and enjoying the experience thoroughly, from the odd appreciative little snortle that I heard.

All good – until today, when I tried to get them to write up their reviews. ‘Muuuuuum, you  know I’ve got lots of stuff to do, I’m waaaaay too busy at the moment ….’ said Child One, heading off for urgent updates on Facebook. As school has now broken up it’s vital she keeps in constant contact with everyone at every possible moment of the day to discuss each nuance of how bored everyone is being stuck with their families. I tried to back Child Two into a corner instead. ‘But Muuuuuuum, you’ve been nagging away at me for ages to clean my room and I was just going to do it …..’ I checked quickly for pigs flying overhead but decided I’d better give her the benefit of the doubt. A tidy bedroom in the hand is worth two reviews in the bush, or something, probably.

‘But what am I going to say about the Weetabix, then?’ I said plaintively. ‘Just tell them we liked it, Mum. That’s all they need to know.’

Well, there you have it – they like it. And they really do, they’re still eating it. Thanks, Weetabix.

We got to see a wonderful preview of what’s in store for Christmas 2010. I can disclose that this involves a Russian military look, with optional pin-on medals (I saw this with Potty Mummy, appropriately enough, who can rock that whole Moscow look for real these days and was eyeing the sheepskin-lined Doc Marten boots rather lustfully). There is also a Hitchcock heroine strand or ’story’ as the lovely JL fashionistas called it, involving cinched in waists, a lot of jewellery and a flock of paper birds hanging from the ceiling by see-through threads. Damn, if only I had ever been any good at origami …

I’m not sure if John Lewis intends us to hurl out all our furniture so we can get in new stuff to be bang on trend for its Scandinavian-red-meets-woody-and-citrus-tones interiors, but I would certainly prepared to dump my sofa so I could get JL’s totally gorgeous patchwork velvet one instead. I felt quite tempted to try to smuggle it into my handbag on the way out.  I also loved being told, with great certainty, that ‘wallpaper will be very big this winter.’ 

 Intersperse this with sneak previews of the hot toys for Christmas 2010 – I can exclusively reveal that they are fab and your children will have tantrums if they don’t get them – and a very happy time was had by all. Oh, and there was a certain amount of chatting involved – I met loads of lovely bloggers I’d never seen before, and bumped into old friends too. I’m terrified to do a name-check in case I do that dreadful thing of leaving someone out, and everyone was so lovely.

Best of all, adorable John Lewis gave us all a Flip camera-video-mebobble thingy. ‘Don’t worry, a child of two could use it,’ I was told arily. That’s fine then. As soon as I find a child of two, I’ll get them to explain it to me. As it was, I took the usual out-of-focus, wonky shots on my iPhone for your delectation.

Have fun, and see you at John Lewis at Christmas. I’ll be buying the really big wallpaper.