Lentula Vitae

wow

2011-08-01T12:09:00.003Z

Really has been a while since I wrote here, which is a shame, as I used to enjoy having a good ol' moan here.

But these days, as much as a gripe & hearing advice, would do me the world of good, I just can't seem to get started.

I think part of it is, this blog is 'open' for any view, and am shy of that these days.

So if you visit & suddenly can't see anything, it'll be because I closed it to invites only. Sorry that sounds so snotty, but this place is still special to me, and if I can find a way to write again, I want it to be here. But you can always ask, can't be offended at that, now can I?

Thanks for reading, am bloody surprised anyone still does...

There goes the year...

2009-11-30T09:35:00.004Z

Well nearly a year has passed..which makes me another year older, but I won’t dwell on that. Daren't.

In a lot of ways nothing has changed, life has trundled on as it has a habit of doing, but I suppose the changes were just gradual and with me not writing about them, I simply didn’t notice.

And writing is something I miss. If I had the time I like to think I’d still be writing, but I suppose I do have the time, just that other things are more appealing at the given moment...

I’m no longer working. I gave it up about a month ago. Maybe longer, I’m not sure as I’m not counting – which is bliss! Some of my friends thought I might get bored being a full time mom again, but I’ve never been the type of person who can’t find something to do!

So my days are now filled with cleaning, and painting the house. And a bit of that online game I mentioned last year, possibly even a ‘bit’ too much. But we each find ways of escaping, and that’s mine.

On the family front, the eldest lad R, is off to America this Christmas, on his own, to see his ex- girlfriend. And yes that’s a tale all of its own I may cover sometime...

The second son P, has started secondary school, is in the top group, and is getting As (who would have thought it possible?? Long may it last...) He re-sat the entrance exam to the other school he still wants to go to last Saturday, and –yet again- we sit here waiting to find out if he passed. And then, whether there will be a place for him

Eldest daughter J, is as beautiful as ever, still as confident and popular as ever, and I still wonder where she gets it from, cause it sure ain’t me!

And the youngest daughter S...well, heaven help us all, she’s a law unto herself. She doesn’t give a fig for school, other than it’s handy for socialising; always looked like she got dressed in the dark; and still sounds like a 3 year old with her high pitched squeaky voice (my mother says wants her to have elocution lessons ;))

Which brings us back to me. I gave up smoking at the start of the year. But I took up drinking instead – which frankly did nothing for me! Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean I turned into a demon when tipsy, in fact the kids adored me drinking as they said I was so much nicer....but I put on some weight. More than when I was pregnant! And I never stopped missing the cigarettes. So a couple of weeks ago, I swapped back. Now I smoke, and again don’t drink. I prefer it like this. And the weight is coming off fast :)

There really isn’t a lot more going on in my life these days. Oh..I’ve taken over the running of the school uniform shop – but that’s hardly great gossip or intriguing tales for here.

But who knows, maybe something interesting or funny will happen tomorrow...^^

A high note

2008-12-10T06:36:00.001Z

So. I’m 40. Bloody hell that’s always sounded old.

Still, I guess there are worse things, like 50.

I had a nice day, can’t say ‘great’ as I was at work and seriously stressed for most of it. But the day ended well.

You remember my friend Cass? The one I went to London with at the last minute to see Aerosmith? She spoilt me rotten!

She’d taken this dreadful photo of us that night, huiddled together in the midst of crowd, and so she enlarged my face (way too close!!) and put it on the front of a card, with the words:

What is the definition of a good friend?

Inside was:

Someone who stands outside in the pouring rain for 5 hours to watch a rock band they have never heard of!!

That card is the funniest, nicest, birthday card I have ever received! And I laughed like a drain!!

And she wasn’t finished there; I got a couple of things, but most excitingly a night away with her in January! We’re staying a posh hotel/spa place for a ‘girly’ night – with everything thrown in!

She spoils me, and makes me feel very special. And I’m bloody glad she’s still my best mate after 25 years!

I received other lovely things too, but that was the most personal gift, the one I’ll remember first.

My parents also came back to the UK for my birthday – which I feel downright guilty about. So sweet they did, but I worked all day and only saw them for an hour. They head back to South Africa on Friday, till March, so even an hour was nice.

The final tidbit of my birthday was hearing from the School P wants to go to (& failed the exam for). They weren’t returning my calls, and I hate to be a nuisance to people and call repeatedly, so at the weekend I wrote a letter. I just said P didn’t want to give up, was going to have some extra English lessons, and would dearly like to be considered to be allowed to sit the exam again, if and when a place becomes available.

Obviously there’re no places just now, but the lady in charge of admissions called last night to say that P was on her mind, and that she’s impressed with his attitude, and will keep him in mind as and when the opportunity presents itself.

She’s a lovely lady, and even if nothing happens for a year or two, she made me feel like she really will be in contact as and when she could.

A slither of hope is enough to make me smile. Time will tell of course, but a small hope is more than I had last week!

And the kids are dropping like flies! The two boys were both ill at school yesterday, both told by teachers to come home, both refused giving the reason that they’re having time off shortly, and can’t afford more.

Awwww, my boys! But I did tell them off – pointed out the schools don’t want them when they’re sick!

And speaking of schools, quick update on my big confession….. P’s headmaster called me on Monday morning.

Told me not to be embarrassed about this event, said he knows it happens, and that the only difference is *I* can’t seem to be dishonest. He was very forgiving.

Even said he didn’t want the letter to go on Ps file, and would I write a one line letter asking for time off, so that he could destroy the original letter.

I feel he’s being very kind and generous with me. And I’m grateful more than he’ll ever realise.

The girls headmistress…well, I haven’t heard from her. And after discussing the situation yesterday with another mother who went head to head with this woman – I don’t think I shall.

She cannot make an exception for us. Even with my big confessional.

But then, she hasn’t called or asked to see me, or written a letter…..yet. I’m still biting my nails but figure, that maybe, in her own way, not responding is the most generous thing she can do for me just now.

And I’ve done my bit, confessing all. There’s nothing more I can do.

And now I must bid you all farewell until 2009, as I want to be at work for 7…..must dash!

Have a super Christmas :)

How do I find myself in situations like this?!

2008-12-07T14:01:00.003Z

We’re days away from our holiday. Which should be great, and if I wasn’t on a guilt trip, it probably would be!

My guilt stems from a lie I was planning to tell, because I felt I didn’t have a choice…but I’d better start at the beginning or this won’t make any sense.

We began looking at the holiday back in March, and once we had an idea of dates, we contacted our eldest son’s school to request the dates off. The permission was received.

But I didn’t think to contact the primary schools, because….well…what are the kids under 10 going to be learning in the week before Christmas?? I’d planned to mention it to those schools around September time, but I really didn’t think it would matter. Or maybe I just didn’t think….

Anyway we booked the holiday, and grinned about it for a couple of months.

Then I heard some rumours that a mom had been refused permission to take her 5 year old out of school for two days for a family event. The playground was abuzz with the news…but I didn’t really pay any heed, as I took it as gossip and reckoned there must be more to the story.

At the summer half term a letter arrived from the headmistress of my daughters school, sent to all parents, informing us that no child would be given permission for time out of school for such things as family holidays.

I panicked and worried myself sick, until I decided I would have to go in, and front up to what I had done. But then a mom pointed out, the headmistress couldn’t make an exception for us…and would be more likely to make an example!

Phones were red hot as plenty of us worried what we would do – because I wasn’t the only one.

One by one we decided, some sent their lawyer husbands in to front up and argue the case, some simply faced the heads wrath but stuck to their guns (this option worried me, as I didn’t want any future animosity), and others lied and called their children in sick. And as the BH ain’t a lawyer, I opted for the lie…..

But it wasn’t just one school I had to lie to, as the Catholic schools are very close, with the head teachers getting together often. I would have to lie to two schools to pull this off.

The plan was: call the schools from UK airport for the Thursday and Friday (after all, if your child vomits, it’s a minimum of 48 hours off ;)), then call first thing on the Monday, from America, for the remaining few days.

That was my plan. Stupid plan.

What if, when I'm on the phone, there was an announcement when at the airport in the UK? What if I overslept on the Monday because of the time difference? What if the call sounded long-distance? What if the kids blabbed all when they returned? Would I ever sleep for fear we’d be discovered? Even after the fact??

My panic has grown out of all proportion. Oh gawd, I feel so sick.

I tried to get a ~~confession slot~~ appointment with the headmistress on Friday, but she was out of the island, and I’ve only got 3 days – which I’m working, as well as fitting in a school play, and birthday lunch, and we haven’t started packing yet, or wrapped and sent off any presents, or cards.

So I’ve written it all down. An explanation and apology to both headteachers.

Ironically the letter to the 2nd head was harder – as I not had to explain what I had planned to do, but why, and in his case – because he may have mentioned it to the other head.

I’m a pratt. A very embarrassed one.

Obviously I didn’t waffle this badly in the letters to them, but have said I am available to see them, if they wish to have a few choice words with me.

I keep asking people if I can get into ‘real’ trouble for this, and one of my friends called the education departmant and they said we could have up to 10 days a year, at the heads discretion. My friend didn’t ask, and they didn’t say, what will happen if the head refuses permission.

I’m worried sick, and hoping they tell me, or forgive me, before this holiday. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax otherwise.

What's a mom to do?

2008-11-30T13:36:00.003Z

On Friday night I let P stay over at a friend’s house. I’m not a huge fan of sleep-overs and my kids don’t do a lot of them, but considering the news P had received on Thursday, I thought it’d be a fun distraction for the lad.

The boy who invited him, Beau, wouldn’t have been my first choice, but he seems nice enough, just very hyper with a short attention span. And if him and P like each other, who am I to stand in the way?

When I went to collect P I went in for a cuppa with Beau’s mom, and I have to admit during the conversation I was surprised by how much freedom this lady gives her children.

But then the word ‘freedom’ is misleading. I don’t deny my kids opportunities to go out with the intention of taking any ‘freedoms’ away, simply that none of my children are old enough to be in town on a Friday night catching the last bus home.

There was an awkward moment when I realised her daughter – who does this – is a year younger than R, but I made more of a point than there realy is about the lousy bus route near us as an added reason.

(This raises another point I’ve just realised – why do I try and smooth differences, when I do stand by, and will defend, my belief that R is too young??)

But back to the tale….I finished the very nice tea, we said our thank-yous, and bid them farewell.

P jumped in the car with a small smile and a wave behind him.

Me: Did you have fun Darling?

P: NO!

I was still smiling and waving at them, and managed to keep it up with only a slight pause.

Me: Smile and wave P! You can explain in a minute.

One minute later……

P: Beau’s horrible! He wouldn’t let me sleep!!

Me (trying not to smile): Oh…..

P: And I’m hungry! He wouldn’t let me have breakfast!!

Me (with a slight frown): What do you mean ‘he wouldn’t let you’?

P: His mom told Beau to get me breakfast, but they don’t have cereal, and when I asked Beau if I could have toast, he said I was a d***head and wouldn’t let me.

Me: I beg your par…..

P: He said more than that! He said you, daddy and Papa are f***ing idiots for thinking I’d pass that exam, and he likes sex videos!

Me (blinking with more than a smidge of surprise – these boys are 10/11!!): P stop swearing!

P: It’s not me! It was him!

Me: You watched a sex video??

P: No, his mom kept coming in. And I told him I didn’t want to, but then he pulled his trousers down and sat on me!

Me (frankly lost for words): I’m really sorry to hear all this P. You’re really friends with this kid?

P: Umm sometimes he’s nice, but he isn’t if you’re not his friend.

Me (wishing I had better advice!): Well Beau sounds very immature, and I don’t think you should go to play again until he’s grown up some.

P: Aren’t you cross he called you a f***ing idiot?

Me: P please stop swearing!! I know you’re only telling me what he said, but picture is clear now!

P: He said the C word too.

Me (filled with even more alarm): C word? Spell it!!!

P: C-R-A-P

Me (thinking phew!): oh. Well like I said, I don’t think you’ll be going to play there again!

Later we talked about the school situation. P said he was scared to move up to seniors at the school he’s at, because he sees blood on the pavements and walls, and had seen a big fight last week when going to a lesson (they ‘integrate’ the boys in the final year of primary)

I’ve had to explain to him that his school is the 2nd best there is, here. The best is no longer an option, at least for a year to two. And the others….well, if his own school scares him….

The poor lad isn’t even 11 yet. Of course the BH puts it in perspective.

He was raised in Glasgow, on one of the biggest housing estates in Europe. By P’s age the BH went to school at 7:30 – to avoid the gangs who would kick your teeth out as soon as look at you.

What have I done to my children? You think protecting them, and teaching them to behave well is the best way to raise them, and now I’m wondering if I live in a bubble, and I haven’t let the children see out.

I don’t want my boy having to fight his way through school, but then, I don’t want him afraid of life either – and it seems, this is life.

I truly don’t know whether it’s me at fault, or the world at large.

But in an effort to end on a positive note...we’re off on holiday soon!

My week from hell

2008-11-28T15:53:00.004Z

Monday morning I was in a meeting, accompanying my main boss Tom, when my phone rang. It doesn’t happen a lot – so I hadn’t turned it off.

It was my other ‘boss’ Nick the dipstick, useless one (the one who runs my main bosse’s 2nd company (main boss has three now)).

His words to me were, “I’ve quit!”

It’s safe to say he caught me off guard, and with a table full of people looking at me – waiting to continue the meeting, all I could mutter was, “Not now, Nick!” and I slammed the phone down.

Of course the main boss frowned at me, and it probably didn’t look great to everyone else that I speak to one of the bosses like that.

*sigh* as soon as the meeting was over a roller-coaster ride began. Nick called me back just as I got back to my car, and he obviously didn’t realise Tom was sitting next to me.

To cut a long story short, the spineless, ignorant little sh*t screwed Tom royally. And I feel me too.

At the time he claimed he'd dismissed the employees - but at least two of them would have demanded compensation, and as they hadn't been on the phone to me screaming for it, I knew there was more to the tale....turns out he's been planning this weeks – which is almost amusing, as on a dog walk with the boss’s wife last Thursday I’d confided to her, that if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was trying to scupper the company.

I obviously did know better but was too stupid to realise people could behave in such a dishonourable fashion.

He’s setting up with someone who wanted to buy the company 6 months ago, with our men (not dismissed, poached), and our contracts. Even wants to buy our equipment, the little….

He has a legal case to answer, but as this Nick lives week to week with just the cash he has in hand, and not even a bank account – Tom’s been advised that he should really ask himself he wants this to drag out, with very little likelihood of satisfaction. Tom has yet to decide.

So that was Blow number 1.

Tuesday I saw my brother. He was complaining, as usual, bloody hypochondriac. Except he ain’t a bloody hypochondriac, he has two blood clots and is back on the 6 month DVT treatment. Poor bugger. Last time he had to spend months in hospital, thankfully this time they’re letting him get his injections as an outpatient.

And at least he’s upbeat – downright surprising considering he can’t drink and it’s Christmas ;)

And the 3rd blow to the week…..because they always come in 3s! Pierce failed the exam.

I thought I’d be more upset than him, but no, he’s crushed, but refuses to give up saying he wants to take the exam again next year!

But realistically if he can’t get into year 7, will he get into year 8? And will anyone have left in just one year to provide a place for him? We are considering a different angle, that is P could repeat year 6 and take the same exam for year 7 next year.

It would mean an entire repeat of this school year, which is somewhat amusing at he’s the 4th brightest in his school year…..but maybe with extra lessons he’d manage it next year.

*sigh* I’ll do what I can to make that happen for him, but if truth be told I feel so bruised a part of me wants to run away for fear history will simply repeat itself and we’ll simply be in the same position next year.

And we have pointed out to him that it would probably mean he always struggles to keep up – which isn’t a lot of fun! But the boy is besotted with that school, and wants it….and I guess he’s the one who’ll have to do the work, so like I said, I’ll do what I can to help it happen for him.

Just not quite sure where to start... *sigh*

Long week.....

2008-11-22T21:59:00.004Z

Today has been a big day for P. He sat the exam for his secondary school, and we’re all stressed and biting our nails over it. Well I am, P’s been quite calm, although it hasn’t been the easiest of weeks.

Poor P’s had problems this week, which is a darn shame as I was hoping to keep things as mellow as possible in the run up to this dreaded exam. But then, his problems didn’t start this week – just that he finally decided to share that he had some problems.

His outpouring came as we arrived at school on Thursday. We had just been shown around his prospective school – where he had appeared fine – but then three minutes after we left he was in tears saying he felt ill.

And P’s been ill a LOT lately. I don’t think he’s managed a whole week at school this term without being sent home for feeling ‘ill’. The alarm bells have been ringing for weeks, and we have been asking, but (he explained) it was only after his (possible) new school seemed real that he finally decided to share his woes.

And wow did I get it! There I was planning to kick my 10 year old out the car, and instead I was sat in the car park for half an hour with a sobbing child.

He’s having a hard time. People are mean in many little ways, but here comes the really hard part……I think at least 60% of it exists only in his mind.

Of course I didn’t say that. I told the secretary that I was taking him home to calm him down – but that ‘apparently’ is unwise, as children rarely want to return. She is a lovely lady and insisted upon talking him into going inside with her, and P’s teacher duly called me an hour later.

I think the poor chap’s as confused as us. The kids P were named are his supposed friends – and I know boys can be horrid, but one of the main ones had called the night before to ask if P could go & play (???) P says he can be nice sometimes, but then, the lads only crime was hiding Ps lunchbox and from what P says, this is a common event amongst the boys – and he admits malice is rarely meant.

But when it happens to HIM he perceives it as a re-enforcement of his belief that people don’t really like him. Which in turn, does put people off!

I love my boy dearly, but I wish I could straighten his logic out. Life ain’t going to be easy if he cant learn to take things a bit lighter, poor P *sigh*

Funnily enough I’m now thinking of someone I’ve met in that game I play. He’s a young man (young enough to be my son!), nice guy once you get past the initial bad-tempered aggressive tone he shows to all. I was lucky, I figured out how to calm his attitude quickly – as he’s simply a grown version of P. The point of mentioning him is, he isn’t liked by all. In fact I’d say he manages to put off about 80-90% of other players – which is a damn shame! And it upsets me, because when all is said and done, it’s him that hurts. For my part I like him, but then I have training in how to understand him ;)

But anyway, back to my boy.

I’m bloody cross with his school at the moment, after a screw up they made yesterday. It was the House General Knowledge quiz, for which there are trials to see if you’re good enough to be 1 of the 3 that represent your House.

P came 3rd! He was over the moon!! He was told he’d be in it – and I thought it was such a bonus to come the day before his exam, a ‘boost’ for his confidence so to speak.

But I guess I got taught a lesson in something, as my hope turned to dismay when his teacher simply called another boys name, and P sat there mutely trying not to cry.

His House won, which would normally be something to celebrate, but P stared out of the car window until we got home then vanished for half an hour before finding the courage to come and explain what had upset him so (I wasn’t there).

With a *sigh* I expect there shall be some reasonable explanation. There’s always is. But why the hell don’t they know they should explain things to kids??!! This other kid probably came joint 3rd in the last quiz in-take and got promised the place – least that’s what I’ve suggested to P…….

Don’t really think he’s convinced…but then, why didn’t he raise his arm and ask what was going on??? We went around in circles, with him not really seeing that he could have helped himself a little more….and eventually I told him he had to drop it (along with the tales of playground pushes and shoves) – I said he was at home now, with people who love him and didn’t want to hurt him. If he wants to tells us these things because it makes him feel better (the old fashioned version of blogging?), that was fine, but as he appeared to get more upset the more he talked about it – then it was time to close the door on it. Home is for relief from the real world, leave you problems outside and remember how to smile.

I think he did.

Least the red eyes faded, and he started chattering about the exam.

(I wrote all this before the exam, now it’s over……)

Well, what will be, will be.

P says he thinks he’s done okay, but that he failed. But then – P is always ready to believe the worst.

Sadly I’m too afraid to argue with him, as he really may have failed, and he has to prepare himself somehow. I simply asked if he’d tried his best, when he said he had, I told him that whatever the outcome – we couldn’t be prouder.

We should know in a week.

I walked the dog this afternoon with a friend, who reckoned this week would feel long – I hope so!!

We’re off on holiday all too soon and I haven’t got anything complete and ready for it. Work is chaos, the schools have a million things on I’ve managed not to miss by flying away this year, and I’m turning 40 and people are insisting I notice, ugh.

Still, Sunday tomorrow, umm why aren't I excited?

I was just going through some old emails.....

2008-11-18T09:46:00.001Z

I’m not at work today. I could be, as there’s always work to be done – but I’ve found that I’m getting very little time to myself these days and so am trying to re-structure my time to get more from it.

I’m mainly achieving this by working Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until the kids kicked out of school. It’s panning out okay, just means the poor BH has to run home on those days and sort the Beast out.

And the Beast deserves a post all of his own – but I really don’t have enough time to elaborate just now ;)

Back to my point, as I’m sure there was one here somewhere…

The two days off I’m again getting, is spent rushing about like a headless chicken trying to figure out where to start.

Today is supposed to be house cleaning, but I seem to have got caught up here, (procrastinating?) and the only cleaning done so far is virtual…..

The old email I was originally writing about was from another blogger, and they made a comment about me suffering from depression in it. It’s from two years ago.

It’s got me thinking. Was I really that low? I’m still on my happy pills, still have days when I really don’t want to get out of bed, let alone leave the house – but I don’t think I have ever thought of myself as suffering from depression.

And I know plenty of other moms on happy pills, who also don’t consider themselves as depressed – in fact I was with one yesterday filling out a job application where we were discussing what she should write, as it specifically asks about mental health and medication.

We agreed that the world, and plenty of people in it, make us severely fed-up with life – but if they would all just vanish and stop irritating us with stupid ideas, plans, chores, commitments, and comments, we wouldn’t have a problem and wouldn’t need our daft pills!

Of course maybe this is depression and we’re jus deluding ourselves, but it’s a delusion which makes us laugh – which has got to be good for the depressed, right?

(and yes, she listed her medication on the application)

There really needs to be another word, as I do know people who suffer from depression – and my state of ‘fed-up’ness is nothing like theirs.

So on to brighter things, as that was the point. I may be miserable, old, tired, grumpy, and not want to do my housework – but I ain’t depressed!

Wayhay! Glad I got that off of my chest ;)

What is this? Gang up on Jona day??

2008-09-15T15:08:00.004Z

I could use the excuse that I’ve been busy, which I have, but really no busier than ever.

The kids are still kids, only real difference being our eldest is well into his teenage years, seeming to know an incredible amount of young women, and ~~strangely~~ enjoying his new job.

Work is one of the things that has taken over my life. I now work at least four days week, and really only get my day off out of principal – ie I remind the boss I’m only supposed to work 1 morning a week! And he’s got another business, property management, so I’m now getting to know twenty-two tenants better than I should.

Did I mention we’re going back to Florida this Christmas? Can’t afford it, but hey-ho life is for living ;) And I need something to look forward to….

And I’ve stopped doing the cakes. Broke my heart at the time I decided (start of the summer holidays) but I was working three evening a week, and there still wasn’t any real money in it. Although… in fairness, I was getting wedding cake orders – trouble was it was from mates, which is tricky as I can hardly charge them a ‘real’ price. Surprisingly I really haven’t missed it that much.

My latest passion – the one that takes up all my spare time – is really embarrassing actually. It’s an online game. I suppose in the theme of dungeons & dragons – not that I would know as I’ve never played that – but I’m guessing the sheer absorption level you have to reach to get anywhere is similar.

The one I play is DarkOrbit, and if any of you try it out – opt for the UK server, VRU company – that way it won’t take you long to find me, even without being specifically told user name! Not that I’m recommending it – don’t get me wrong, it’s an entire life & heaps of fun, but it is VERY time consuming!

I had also been thinking I would attempt the Nano write in November, especially after missing it last year. But realistically we’re going away in December, which means I not only have to be up to date with everything, but get ahead of myself – and whilst there may be a couple of months to prepare – I know me, and I have enough trouble coping with each new day! So maybe next year…..

It’s very touching that some of you still visit here, and I shall attempt to be a bit more vocal – thanks for caring guys :o)

Did I mention…

2008-03-19T18:34:00.006Z

My feet?

Well I’m going to, as this is my moaning place, and my feet often cause me to moan - and I don't mean in a good way!

I think my problems started last summer, and I think it may have coincided with me putting on weight - which I still have – but am working on.

At first it was just like the normal ‘long day’ foot ache, except it was happening on days when I hadn’t been doing a lot of walking. On days when I did walk a lot, by evening I could barely stumble across the room. And it was just as bad when I awoke in the mornings, sometimes worse.

In fact the only time my feet didn’t/don’t hurt is when I’ve ‘got going’ – and I MUSTN’T stop; as when I do stop, back comes the pain, twofold.

It only took me until Christmas (and our then impending holiday) to realise this wasn’t going to go away on its own. So I went to the doc, who sent me to another doc who specialises in feet.

I was there all of ten minutes. He had me walking up and down his hall, and looked at my feet (didn’t even touch them! Which was a bloody shame as a foot rub has become one of my all time favourite things! And for what he charged, you’d think he could have…)

Turns out I’ve got some sort of fallen arches thing, and I bruise my feet with every step, this in turn produces some sort of protective build up of fluid, which happens every time I stop walking, and so when I start walking again my feet scream at all the nerves. Or something like that, whatever it is – IT BLOODY HURTS.

But not to worry, as he gave me some arch supports (which make me feel like an old lady!) and for a while these have helped. But even with these supports, my feet are now, AGAIN, worse than ever (and I do wear my granny supports all the time, and never walk around in bare feet any more)

Today I even tried wearing boots with heals (yes I know I just said I wear the supports ALL the time, but today was the first day I didn’t, as I couldn’t get them in the boots with my poor swollen feet) in the hope that raising my heals might provide some relief.

Well, as you can tell by the simple fact that you’re reading this, my bright idea didn’t work, and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get these boots off as they now feel ridiculously tight.

Anyways I’m not to tell you about my big toe nails, as you might be eating, but it’s safe to say they’re paying a price for whatever is wrong.

This is daft, I hate it. I’m only middle aged! Dear heavens what will my feet be like in thirty years?

Don’t answer that!

P.s. the doc dismissed my idea that my weight was playing a part in this – said I wasn’t overweight by medical standards – at least that cheered me up! Though I still think it is partly to blame – maybe my feet just aren’t used to this much pressure ;)

Alive, kicking, and I’m a pedant!

2008-03-13T17:01:00.006Z

And as it was a teacher telling me so, then it must be so!

I suppose I should be glad that my son’s Catholic school is even teaching the formation of the solar system, on the other, if you’re going to teach kids something, then shouldn’t it be taught correctly?

This all started when I helped P revise for his water cycle test, you know how it happens – you start glancing through their books, and suddenly you read something like:

‘The moon ~~bumped~~ crashed into the Earth, and that’s why the Earth tilts on its axis.’

The correction of ‘bumped’ to ‘crashed’ is the teacher’s, followed by a big tick. Anyways, I’m reading this paragraph thinking ‘WTF? When?! Was I asleep?’

I must have been asleep at some point, because I studied Planetary Science and I sure as heck don’t recall the moon ever bumping, or crashing, into the Earth.

P’s science teacher assured me it did though.

I stood there seriously questioning the stuff I’d been taught, after all, this man is a teacher – and they must know what they’re talking about, right? So I explained I'd been taught the Giant Impact Theory for the moon's formation, and thought it still stood, and wasn't aware the moon had ever come back and given us a shove. To my surprise he agreed and said that that was what the boys would be taught in Seniors.

So I queried why they were teaching my son this other ~~gibberish~~ stuff right now, and apparently kids can’t understand the same things as us, and this is the ~~let’s make it up as we go along~~ simplified version, oh and I’m being pedantic for brining this up.

Seriously, he said that.

Not sure how amused I am about this, am I really being pedantic?

So, here we are again!

2008-01-07T19:19:00.000Z

I had some great intentions, after all it made sense to write a diary of our holiday so that I wouldn’t forget too soon. But between being on dial up, and the sheer exhaustion of a Disney holiday, it didn’t happen.

But you already knew that.

And now the holiday’s over. In fact we’ve been home a week. Doesn’t feel like it, I can still close my eyes and almost imagine I’m there. And I want to be there, it was fantastic.

Not the Disney stuff so much (though that was great) but the warmth, the prices, the choice, the food, the nail bars, the trashy mags, the tv, the smells, the pool, the heavenly mattress on our bed, the car, the excitement, the lack of calls & emails, Dunkin Doughnuts, and Reece’s peanut butter cups.

And here’re some things I discovered on holiday:

Tour Guide Mike is invaluable for Disney Holidays
Being anal is bloody useful for following Mike’s tips
Other people don’t appear to utilise the fastpass to its full potential
I prefer Universal
Wet n’ Wild is a let down
Discovery Cove isn’t
US cars run on one type of fuel (though with varying quality)
They don’t even sell diesel at fuel stations!
Cigarettes are cheap as chips
Food is cheaper than chips
Including eating out
Chips are crisps
If you want chips, ask for fries
Confused? It’s part of the fun!

And more for my memory than thinking you might care, here’s what we did:

Thursday 13th December: recovered from flights – they were delayed so we reached the villa at midnight (or five in the morning as far as our bodies were concerned!) And we did manage a 5 hour shopping trip to Walmart. Where we lost S – and that’s no joke, though with quarter of an hour and five shop assistants we finally found her wandering the aisles (exactly what we’d said NOT to do!!)

Friday 14th: Magic Kingdom, rides completed by midday (thanks to Tour Guide Mike!) crowds drove us out by 2

Saturday 15th: Lazy morning followed with Premium Outlets (didn’t buy a thing as Premium is still premium, and who needs it with Walmart down the road?!)

Sunday 16th: Sat through an early morning storm and bemoaned the temperature drop, Ripley's Believe It Or Not came in useful. Walmart again this afternoon!

Monday 17th: Epcot, again rides completed by lunch, so went back on the trip to Mars three times! I adore that ride – it’s the closest I’ll ever get to space!! The kids discovered you don’t need to be greedy in America – a double scoop ice-cream is too much to finish, hahaha!

Tuesday 17th: Animal Kingdom, P discovers he adores roller-coasters, and the BH doesn’t (I already knew I don’t!) Man then dies riding Everest, doesn’t put P off, but did play on the BH’s mind.

Wednesday 18th: Universal! Bought the express pass as I had no intention of starting to queue for rides – worked brilliantly! Managed both Universal parks in one day (admittedly we were there 13 hours) Spiderman’s the best IMO, Hulk’s the best in P’s, or the Duelling Dragons, he can’t decide; all wonderful. Oh and I must mention Donkey!

You know, ~~Donkey~~ Trusty Steed, from Shrek, usually played by Eddie Murphy, but I have no idea who was playing the one at Universal, he sounded the same but I might have thought it was completely animated if it wasn’t for the conversation he had with P!

To set the scene: the kids race out of 4D Shrek and see a sign telling them to ‘Come this way’ if they wish to meet Donkey and Shrek – which of course they want to do. But the characters weren’t quite out (it was still early) and so they waited, which was okay on this occassion as they were at the front of what became a long queue. Finally Donkey and Shrek appear and my four darlings rush up to get their autographs and pictures taken.

Donkey: So where you kids from?

Chorus: Jersey!

Donkey: Really? That don’t sound like a Jersey accent!

P: Not New Jersey, Old, the original!

Donkey: Old Jersey? Never heard of it!

P: It’s not called Old Jersey, just Jersey.

Donkey (voice rising): I called it Old Jersey ‘cause you said it was Old Jersey!

P (narrowing his eyes): It’s just Jersey!

Donkey: Ok. So is that like New Jersey?

P: No!

Donkey: How’d you know? You been to New Jersey?

P: No.

Donkey: So how’d you know?

P (glaring)

Donkey (voice has risen to point where everyone is watching): So how’d you know New Jersey isn’t like Jersey?!

P (silent)

Donkey: Come on kid, answer the question!

P (eyes narrowed to slits): Don’t talk to me!

P promptly turns his glare towards the camera, and notices the line of people watching and grinning.

Donkey (voice just as loud as could be): Don’t talk to you? Don’t talk to you?! You came to me! Hey kid, don’t you turn you back on me when I asked you a question! Admit it, you don’t know!

P (red faced but starting to see the funny side, faces his nemesis): I do know! It’s NOT like New Jersey!

Donkey: If you haven’t been there, how do you know that?

P (in a stroke of genius. Or not): Wikipedia!

Donkey (with a shrill voice breaking into laughter): Wikipedia? WIKIPEDIA!! Oh kid, you gotta a lot to learn!

By this time people our ‘go’ had long gone, and though people were obviously amused to watch the banter, I hurried P along ~~before I wet myself from giggling so hard!~~ with Donkey muttering curses about Wikipedia as we left!

Guess you had to be there, but it still makes me giggle.

(See how red the boy is!)

Right, my time’s up for today, and I’ve bored you long enough. For today.

Guess what…

2007-12-08T09:17:00.000Z

Everyone’s being so damn nice at the moment! And when I say ‘damn’ I don’t mean it with a hint sarcasm – I truly feel that people are being so much more helpful and thoughtful than I usually see. Or maybe I don't usually pay enough attention…

So what has caused this bubble of warmth to grow?

Well, it’s mostly little things like get a dentists appointment within hours of cracking my tooth on Monday (must stop grinding them, the dentist might be super helpful, but she ain’t cheap!)

Reeve was also in pain when he came out of school on Monday, so much so that I rushed him up to the doctors – they waved us straight in (it can sometimes take three weeks to get an appointment!)

Then the boiler started pouring out black smoke (who’d think at 2 years old, the thing would need servicing?!), again, even though it’s a busy time of year and I haven’t used them before, a boiler maintenance chap rushed around and made sure we had heating. Definitely not my usual experience with plumbers (actually, are boiler maintenance men plumbers? Who knows! Who cares, he fixed it!) The bill was also quick to arrive – but heck, we spent one night without heating, and it was worth the cost!

On Wednesday my girlfriends arranged a birthday gift for me – a trip to the acupuncturist! That may not sound like everyone’s cup of tea, but those needles really do help de-stress me, and my mates remembered me telling them – aren’t they wonderful friends?!

On Thursday I saw Cass for our usual cuppa – and she’s got me a gift too! Now I’ve been great mates with Cass since school and we don’t do pressies for each other (just the kids on birthdays) – but she surprised me, though told me to calm down when I bubbled with excitement ;) I don’t know what it is yet, as it’s not my birthday until tomorrow, but just the fact that she remembered and went out of her way to do that, makes me glow.

And then there was yesterday! My sweetheart boss and his wife! Wow they are good to me. Last month they paid for me to go shopping in Southampton for the day (lunch included!), and then yesterday they handed me an envelope full of dollars for our holidays! I was damn near speechless, almost still am!! I mean, if I worked full time in some big organisation I might almost ‘expect’ these bonuses, but not when you work part-time for a small business. I can’t express how touched I am.

I showed the BH the envelope last night, and told him I’d given my boss a big hug and kiss (it’s alright, his wife was right there and also received a hug!) – you know what the BH said? He said for that kind of cash, he’d expect at least a blow-job. Ahem.

Last but not least, I'm getting a new mobile for my birthday, which I purchased on eBay. It arrived - very nice - but the plug was some two pin thing. I contacted the seller asking if he sold adaptors, or if not, could he please tell me if the phone was from China or the US (so I find the correct adaptor). He came back with an apology, and a promise to pop one in the post today! How often does that happen whether you're buying from a shop, let alone eBay?! What a super chap.

So here I am, feeling downright grateful for the people in my life. I’m very lucky. And it's nice feeling like this :)

You might think...

2007-11-28T19:17:00.000Z

You might think that after being silent for the entire month of Nano, that maybe I had actually done some writing, but no, I didn’t write a word, and I’m a bit bloody surprised November’s about to end too!

Haven’t been up to a lot, but then, I’ve also been so busy I feel like I’ve barely sat down. Guess it must be all that fun I’m having.

Not a lot is new with me, but that’s the joy of kids – when your own life fades into monotony, theirs is a ball!

R’s had meetings about a school ski trip he’s going on in February (lucky little bugger!), he’s also got detention tomorrow (after school, which means the rest of us do too, as we’ll be sitting outside, counting the mind-numbing minutes, one-by-one. And probably seeking out any public loos, if S and J are on form).Thankfully the detention wasn’t for beating anyone up (he saves that habit for his siblings!), but because the dog ate his homework. Not that we actually know that, it could just as easily have been his sisters coloured it in, and then binned it – who knows? At least I know he did do it, having helped him.

Also providing some high life are my parents, who are back from Africa tomorrow and want to see us immediately. Oh goody, guess dinner will be a late one.

J’s got nits, AGAIN. I don’t even have the energy to swear about it this time. And she keeps telling me off, which was kind of funny at first but is fast wearing thin. Today it was because I forgot her brioche from the supermarket, pity the man who marries her. For his sake, I hope he’s rich.

P is still P, my special little man so full of contradictions. He’s wearing me out at the moment. On the one hand he got his SAT results and got 4th best in his school year (I gaped like a fish with the shock of it!!), on the other he can’t have a conversation with anyone without starting a row or trying to scare them. And he’s still practicing his Evil Genius laugh, seems to have got the rest of his act down to pat!

S is another funny one. After starting the term by adding to my grey hair problem, she’s just finishing up her month as her class’s ‘Pupil of the Month’. Go figure. Her teacher recons you wouldn’t know she was the same child. But I know she still the same child! In fact her and P are ‘bestest’ friends now, why am I not surprised?!

And I’m out to lunch tomorrow which will be fun. I think. It’s with twenty of the moms from school, and several offspring. No idea how the numbers grew to that, I swear it was three if us when the plan began. Never mind, it’s sure to be entertaining as we’re throwing in a dog walk to start the event (when it’s not the bosses/kids/Better Halves making demands on us, it’s the bloody dogs!) And we’ve got a dad coming too, brave man. He’s one of the ‘new generation’ househusbands – except this one does it really well ;)

Here’s a sugarpaste character of him and his brood:

This was a Christening cake I made this past weekend. I also had a birthday cake, but didn’t bother photographing it as it was another fairy toadstool, and I think I have at least three posted already.

But I did made a Princess Castle the week before:

And the week before that, it was a Pirate cake:

The week before the pirate cake, I also made another pirate cake, but I won’t bother posting a photo, as you only want to see so many pirate cakes ;o)

As you can see, cakes are sill taking up a lot of my time…which has just reminded me, I should be baking cupcakes for the Christmas Bazaar by now!

Secrets!

2007-10-14T18:14:00.001Z

We tried, we really did. But the BH was losing interest in this holiday, and as I had scrapbooks and bits ready (and didn’t want to be alone in my excitement!), we had to tell them.

But I think I made a mistake opening with ‘We can’t afford Christmas,’ and adding that ‘We’re not eating Christmas dinner with Nana and Papa this year,’ went down like a lead balloon with P was near crying, J and R and was already sulking, and poor S was totally confused. Bringing out the scrapbooks wrapped in Christmas paper helped with the 3 youngest, but by then R was so deep in his funk to care that more presents were arriving. A glimmer of a smile broke from R when P unwrapped an aeroplane and we told R to work it out!

It took just seconds to realize it meant Disney, but another couple of minutes for them to grasp we didn’t mean just EuroDisney, but the big one, in Florida.

The girls bounced about telling us how much they loved us (you’d think they already did, but apparently now ‘They really mean it’!) P was too stunned to do anything, and R sulked because he didn’t believe us (sometimes I wonder if that boy has actually been raised by *me*, I mean, would I joke about something like this?!!!!!)

Of course within the hour R had perked up and was driving us mad with endless questions, and I can tell P is bubbling as he sits staring at the pictures of the villa we’re renting (and yes, they’re already arguing over who gets which room), the girls seem to forget for a few minutes at a time then suddenly remember and burst in a High School Musical song!

I seriously doubt they’ll do a lick of work at school this week.

One of those weeks

2007-10-06T16:42:00.000Z

It started with P at the dentist at 8:30 on Monday. We arrived, we waited, we were told our dentist was off sick, so we waited a bit longer to be fitted in with another dentist; but that dentist scratched her head, doubled checked P’s details, then announced she couldn’t find the teeth that supposedly needed filling, and sent us on our way.

Monday afternoon was even less fun when I went to get S from class, and her teacher (Miss B) asked for a word with me. I wasn’t prepared for what she had to say. Never in all the years of being a mom have I had a teacher tell me she’s ‘fed up to the back teeth’ with one of my off-spring (and I guess she really must be – to actually say it!). Apparently S does ‘nothing’, and her standard answer to everything is ‘I don’t know’. When I told Miss B I wasn’t surprised, as that’s what S is like at home too, Miss B told I must have the patience of a saint to put up with S, and unfortunately Miss B doesn’t.

After reading the riot act at my 5 year old, Tuesday (at least) was a good day.

Unfortunately by Wednesday S had landed herself in front of the Headmistress, for scribbling all over the floor when she was supposed to be listening to a story. Again, I’m not too surprised, as her drawing habits also aren't new to us, but I am mortified S is behaving this way out of the home. The others don't let me down like this.

Of course what S doesn’t know, and what really made me cringe, was that on Wednesday morning (just two hours before S’s misdemeanour) I’d been in the same Headmistress’s office begging time off for my little darling.

The following day had me in another Headteacher’s office, this time P’s. This had nothing to do with the time off, but a story my son had told me about an ‘Emo’ he’d seen in the seniors’ toilets. Not being 100% sure what an Emo was (I was thinking ‘baby Goth’) I asked him, and found out he considers it someone who wants to kill himself, and when I asked him why he thought that, I really sat up straight when he told me the knife and blood were good hints!

Being that I couldn’t live with myself if this lad did something awful to himself, I was at the school first thing requesting they look into it. The bizarre thing was, at least four boys had been there, and though a couple had told their parents, no one had bothered telling the school. Later, one mom did call me to say the school had been in contact (in case any of the boys were traumatised by what they had seen) and that she now felt awful that she hadn’t questioned her son properly and reported it.

The end result was P missing a lesson as they went to find the boy in question. So far P hasn’t been beaten up, so here’s hoping the lad is happy people know and are doing their best to give him some help.

Also on Thursday, J got ill. At first it was a headache, but by evening her throat had flared up and she was wheezing, a long night of fever followed. She’s still really poorly, and at 5:30 this morning added throwing up to her list of aliments. The BH took her to the doctor, but he told us to wait it out with plenty of rest. Still cost us £25 mind.

On the up side, I haven’t had any running around this afternoon (as J’s the one with activities on Sat pm), and S was fine about going to gym without J this morning. In fact whilst S was there, I popped off to meet the woman who’s having Kobi over Christmas.

She was lovely, and her house was pretty, which is wonderful for the mutts as she doesn’t lock them in kennels.

I’m a tad worried.

Kobi’s still as mad as a March hare, and I wouldn’t be daft enough to give him the run of my own house, let alone…

A part of me giggles at the thought I’ll be thousands of miles away. Another part is terrified; will she charge me for the damage?

And dear god did that dog piss me off today. He’s taken to roaming, which he isn’t supposed to do because we cut his balls off! ‘Roaming’ isn’t really a good description, from what I gather from people kind enough to recognise and return him, he’s chasing cars, geese, ducks, and bicycles, in fact anything that passes. I wish we could enclose our garden, but it’d taken thousands of pounds, and what pounds we have are being spent on the holiday.

And speaking of money and gardens, our grand Beach tree which sits at the entrance to our driveway has been condemned, due to some fungi rotting its roots. Bad enough we lose the privacy this tree provides, not to mention a 70 year old tree having to come down when it doesn’t -yet- look ill, but adding insult to injury is the cost of removal, £950!!! I mean, how can the tree fellers be serious?! I’m bloody tempted to let the thing come down on its own, and offer it as firewood to whoever would remove it.

And I would, except our insurance is invalid now we know the roots are rotten. Damn me and my big mouth, telling a tree surgeon about the impressive fungi we have growing.

On top of all this, are the secret holiday plans. The deposit’s been sent for the villa (though as Royal Mail are on strike, I needn’t have rushed that!), and I’ve been scourging the web for the cheapest/most comprehensive deal for attraction tickets. I can’t wait.

I’ve also been thinking about Nano. I really want to do it and make it 3 years in a row, but when I stop and seriously think about when, then I don’t think I’ll manage it. And I don’t want to fail at it. What about you lot, any of you thinking of giving it a go?

Guess what?

2007-10-02T21:10:00.000Z

Oh you’ll never guess. Never, as it’s all too unlike me.

It happened last week, I wasn’t having a good day, which isn’t so unusual right now but back to the point, I was being a right miserable cow. I couldn’t be bothered to do anything, and was wondering why I bother getting up in the morning.

Then it came to me, Fuck It.

Yes, I had my first ever completely insane Fuck It All moment.

So I phoned the BH and told him about my mood. Being the diplomat of ~~wariness~~ peace he is, he stayed quiet and simply asked what I wanted to do about it.

Well…if you’re going to Fuck It, fuck it good! When I told him what I wanted to do, he was still very quiet, and asked me to give him a minute to pick himself up off the floor.

By Friday I’d been to the bank, told them what I wanted to do with the ridiculous amount of money I expected them to lend us, signed the forms, and got the okay.

Now it’s all booked, and a lot of money paid, and guess who’s going on holiday for the first time in a decade?!

So, I’m being Mrs Irresponsible. For the first time in my life, I’m doing something I swore I’d never do, borrowing hoards of cash which will take us years to repay, all to be spent over seventeen days.

Heck when I write it like that, it makes me nervous!

Umm, then there’re seventeen days of sunshine with no school runs, and we’ll get to miss the end of term activities (double bonus!), in fact ALL the irritating Christmas stuff. Instead I can queue for all those rides you see on the telly, ~~but I’ve never been on, despite my parents promising to take me when I was a child~~ watch my kids faces light up, swim in our private pool, and lie about watching TV when the boys go off watching ~~netball~~ basketball.

DisneyWorld here we come!

The children don’t know yet, even though the BH is itching (like a kid!) to tell them, but I want to wait, as I have something planned ;)

Tomorrow I’m racing around the schools to beg the time off for them (they have to say yes right?! Especially as I’ve parted with money – otherwise I guess my children will all have to go down with a nasty lurgie for a few weeks)

I also braved telling my parents at the weekend, my mother took it surprisingly well, and my dad’s come around already. In fact the biggest problem was the dog - the first kennels I called laughed at me, said I should book before Easter for the Christmas period. Thankfully three calls later, the fates smiled upon me, and Kobe's now going on his own holiday (probably won't be as much fun as mine - but, heck, too bad Beast!)

Wow, I’ve really gone and done it! And my kids are going to adore this new me!

So tell me, any tips on what should we definitely see when in Orlando? After all, it'll probably be another ten years before I do anything like this again...

Cakes, cakes, and…

2007-08-26T13:11:00.000Z

I’ve written several posts, but I never get the time to finish them. In fact there’s never enough time for anything, and I’m sticking to my idea that time IS speeding up!

Take this summer (other Brits will know I’m being sarcastic even using that word! What bloody summer?!), the kids have been off school for over five weeks, and are due back next week. But we haven’t done anything I can remember.

The house is in a worse state than ever, and calling ourselves ‘the Clampits’ is no longer a joke. I haven’t done a thing in the garden, still haven’t decorated the cloakroom (and we’ve been living here 7 years this September!!), we’ve not had any outings, and I haven’t called any of the moms I promised to see.

All I ever do is make cakes.

Or so it feels to others. The BH is not amused. He’s at the end of his ten days off, and has just told me he thinks it’s all been a waste of time as he’s barely seen me. It makes me feel like shit when he’s cross with me. But giving up my dream of being good enough to make a living at cake decorating, leaves me feeling hollow.

I’ve never really had a dream before. In fact the only other thing I ever really wanted to do with my life, was have kids, and thankfully I sure as heck managed that ;)

But at the moment, making cakes takes a lot of time as I’m not so good I can just throw things together. And not having a proper workplace causes things to take twice as long. And then not being licensed means I can’t charge what I should be charging. Vicious circle.

Life seems to hold a lot of vicious circles, and I have habit of buckling under them. But I want this dream. I want a kitchen of my own where I can leave my work out if I have to dash off somewhere, I want a licence so I can charge proper money, and I want to be good at it.

But I’m feeling a tad bruised today, as I had my first ever TOTAL disaster yesterday. I made a three tier topsy-turvy cake for S’s birthday party (yes I know it’s month since her birthday, but you know me – always behind!).

It looked great, and I knew it was going to taste great. And for once the sun came out (I’m mentioning that, because I don’t think the heat helped). I took my pictures, here’s one:

and then loaded the thing into my car. We weren’t three minutes down the road (which isn’t so far, when you’re driving at 20mph because you have a cake in the car) when I knew things were going wrong. By the time I got to the party the entire cake had collapsed into itself, leaving nothing but a gooey mess.

If I wasn’t on happy pills, I would have sobbed until the cows came home. But I was mortified with embarrassment for the two other mothers we were sharing the party with. They took it quite well, all things considered.

It’s knocked me. And I think, the BH thinks I should give up this lark. He hasn’t quite said it, but I can feel his lack of patience. And a part of me thinks he’s probably right.

I earn good money from my book-keeping jobs, and when I’m not doing them, why do I spend all my time doing this, when there’s so many other things I could be doing?

Maybe I should give it up for a year or two. Just until things are straight. *Sigh* it might be the sensible thing to do.

And this would be the right time to decide as I’ve only got a couple of cake orders lined up, one I have to start tomorrow, for Thursday, and another in November (which I didn’t want as it’s Nano month, but I had to bribe J’s best friend into going to bed on a sleepover, and a castle cake was all that appealed to her).

Oh heck, here I go in circles again!

Why isn’t life ever simple? School runs and accounts just feel so ugh. I want to walk Ryker on the beach, make cakes all day, and have kids who don’t whine at everything. But Ryker’s dead, the beach is full of disapproving mothers (who are daring enough to dedicate their lives to their kids and doing ‘fun’ things), and in fairness to my kids – I don’t have the time, cash, or inclination to do what they want (though in my defence, I can say they hardly ever agree anyway!)

And here I am, middle of a sunny day, hiding from all the stuff I should be doing. I’d better go.

Exactly 5 years!

2007-07-25T19:07:00.000Z

I can’t believe S is five. I’m almost upset about it, and I definitely would be, if she wasn’t so happy about it. At least she still looks little!

This week has been tiring. Three of the kids broke-up last Wednesday, and by Thursday I was hissing threats at them whilst in the supermarket. Thankfully a productive weekend of cleaning removed me long enough to regain some calm.

And then this week began. It’s been alright really, as it’s mostly been cake decorating – one for S today, and another for a friend of a friend tomorrow.

In fact there’s a bit of a tale about that, you see this woman approached me whilst I was at Cass’s daughter’s party back at the start of May, and asked if I’d consider making her daughter’s cake. I mumbled about it being just a hobby, most just for friends, but made positive noises whilst wondering if she was just being polite.

I saw this lady again at Cass’s other daughter’s party in June, where she cornered me and gave me some details. Since then Cass put us in touch with one another, and the cake was agreed upon. All seemed normal until last week when Cass told me a funny thing, this lady was handing out invites to her daughter’s party, and gave one to Cass – but not for either of Cass’s daughters, but for Cass’s neighbour, and would Cass mind dropping it into the neighbour?

Neither of Cass’s daughters are invited! I’m a tad shocked. After all, she’s getting Cass’s friend (me) to make her daughter’s cake (at mates rates) and getting Cass to deliver an invite – is it me, or is the whole thing incredibly rude towards Cass?

I think it is, and I know Cass is feeling a bit bruised.

Of course I’ll act dumb tomorrow, when I drop the cake off, but I’ll be refusing if she asks for any more!

But back to my house, and my life.

My baby girl turned 5 today! Where have the years gone?! I’d better have plenty left, or bloody hell I’ll spend eternity bitching about being robbed.

I’m that kind of mind set because R came with me to collect Kobi tonight (my mother was dog sitting, as too many little darlings scream when Kobi hurtles towards them to say hello). R and I were talking about moderation in life, and how I believe my blood carries addictive personality traits. He asked if I was referring to my smoking, I said I was (as it was the easiest example). But after chatting on I point out that if I became a health nut and ran three miles a day, it wouldn’t mean I’d live any longer, as I might get hit by a bus when out running. Death is always with us, and anyone who thinks life is fair, is a fool.

I ended up thinking about an old school friend, Melanie, the most beautiful girl in my school year (and that’s beautiful inside, and out). She died when we were 17. I say ‘we’ because she was the mate I’d share my birthday parties with (she was 4 days younger than me).

She was cheated.

Anyway, good grief I’ve turned morbid. Having said that, I don’t think a little bit of morbidity is a bad thing, for example when I was walking on the beach yesterday, I was telling the kids about the area we were walking on. It’s a Neolithic burial chamber, and of course the kids near freaked and thereafter looked for old bones. Then I got to thinking about how many Moms over the generations must have walked with their kids over that same area, how we don’t know their names, or anything about their lives, and how many Moms with their kids will walk on that same stretch 100 years from now, knowing nothing about us.

Thoughts like this used to scare me, now I find it a kind of comfort.

I guess it’s watching children grow which provides the reassurance of continuity.

But I still miss Melanie.

But back to S! I think she enjoyed her birthday – certainly she’s still bouncing around, giggling all the way.

I’m bloody glad to get today out the way though, making two cakes for the same date is stressful. And exhausting, doubly so when you’re trying to get everything straight for a birthday tea-party too. Still, all’s well that ends well. Everyone had a fun time, the food was eaten, the cake demolished, presents still scatter the lounge, and the ache in my feet is at last a good ache.

Phew.

11 days until R’s birthday. Shit, I wonder what he wants.

I’m not happy with it!

2007-07-14T16:42:00.000Z

Which – considering I’ve been working until 11 for the past three nights, and fighting a cold – is simply not on!

It probably looks alright in the photo, as you can hide a multitude of sins with camera angles. But up close? The woman looks hideous! And I worked from pictures of the couple (though they were dressed in those!); I hope the wife doesn’t hate me for giving her so much extra weight, no neck, and dreadlocks.

I don’t think I’m going to accept cake orders from people I don’t know any more. That’s once I get past next week, as I’ve already accepted that order, but at least that one’s for a child and they’re more easily pleased.

Other news includes P turning 9. My baby boy is growing up so fast, and I can’t stop wishing I could have another, even if I have accepted it would be totally impractical (not to mention impossible).

Being a terrible mother I kinda forget my own son might like a cake, but he reminded me just in time and I started it at 4 last Saturday, and finished at midnight. He was happy.

Until he got his present. You may recall he was saving up to go halves with me on Pleo, but unfortunately they’re not out until the end of October, and that’s in the US, could be months after that before we see them. So once we knew Pleo was out the window, we opted for a remote control helicopter. Great. Except the damn thing wouldn’t charge.

Not to worry, I immediately ordered another and posted back the original. The new one arrived on Wednesday. Great. Except a spring was missing from the battery compartment. I immediately called again and was assured a third would be sent out pronto. It’s still not arrived. Neither has the £15 token they promised to email for all the trouble.

I give up. I’ve got a stinking headache, I haven’t slept properly in days, my chest hurts, and my nose won’t stop running. Oh, and I’m still fat.

On the upside, School’s nearly finished! The three youngest break up on Wednesday lunchtime, typically the eldest has to be different and finishes at 3:30 on Friday. I can’t wait, which I know sounds almost daft (wishing four kids upon myself all day long), but it’s the running around to such a tight schedule which kills me – and that’s what we’re getting a break from!

P’s also doing great at school and won an award yesterday for his improvement in maths (came with a £5 book token too!)

Plus the boys’ had their tap and modern dance exams late yesterday afternoon, both think they done alright, but we have to wait six weeks for the results.

Well I suppose I should go get rid of this damn cake…hopefully those eating it won’t be looking at the woman.

Where to start?

2007-06-26T19:41:00.000Z

At the beginning I suppose! Saturday didn’t start off quite as expected…

As you can see, the tube was closed. And then it started to rain…so being housewives let loose for the weekend, we got lazy, and instead of just getting on with the walk, we hailed a black cab.

But being that the cab had windows, and seeing that we wanted to hit Primark sometime over the weekend, we yelled ‘Stop!’ when we passed a store on Oxford Street, figuring that we’d only be delayed on our journey to the British History Museum by an hour or so…

At three that afternoon Cass and I agreed the museum was out the window, so we finished with a drink in the late sunshine (milkshake in my case).

Of course it began to rain the minute we decided to get up again. And what’s a girl to do when carrying half a dozen shopping bags? Hail a black cab of course!

By 7 that evening we were in the Hotel bar to meet Cass’s friend, Janet. But it duly started chucking down, and as we didn’t want frizzy hair, we ate in the bar.

At 10 the rain had stopped and Janet and Cass agreed to go on to another bar, this time in Soho. But I wasn’t so sure and tried to beg off. Fortunately for me this wasn’t so easy, as Cass said she wouldn’t go without me. And this was her weekend, so I agreed, for an hour.

But an hour isn’t so long, and we’d only just sat down with our drinks. Five minutes later Janet’s boyfriend, Paul, turned up and announced we were meeting his cousin and his girlfriend in a club up the road (saying ‘we’ is pushing it – it was Paul and Janet who were going, but Janet wanted us to tag along, and Cass said she’d go home with me if I left, so we went with them).

At first it was too noisy, and I was greatly tempted to have a drink, but I worried over how drunk I might get (as lost in London, drunk, on a Saturday night, wouldn’t have been the brightest thing for this middle-aged housewife to do). Then we got a table. Then it was kicking out time. And 3 in the morning.

Piccadilly is a surreal place at 4 on a Sunday morning. People and cars everywhere (though no black cabs) but all the shops are closed, office windows are dark, the Tubes still, and the only noise are the car horns and peoples’ voices. Twenty years ago, when I lived there, it felt like the middle of the night, but not this time. I suppose I could put it down to what a great night I’d had, or maybe it really was different.

Cass was then hungry – and I’ll make mention here of Cass’s appetite, as I’m still stunned! She a size 8 (in US sizes, I think that’s a 4), but she eats loads! Actually, NOT loads, but I mean compared to me. Every few hours she’s hungry, can’t start the day without breakfast, and eats in bed. Life’s a bitch and I’m fat.

But back to Cass being hungry, we tried to get room service, I even went down to reception, but it wasn’t to be. So Cass had to make do with her box of Pringles, and I called it a ~~day~~ night as the sun came up.

I’m being a tad optimistic and sun is overstating it. It rained most of Sunday, which is how I got Cass to the British Museum for midday. Poor thing had a hangover, and I dragged her around Egyptian sarcophaguses, and Roman sculptures.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested, she was. Just a tad weary.

Next up was changing some of the clothes from the previous day’s shopping (just one item each) but Cass and I were overpowered by the lure of clothing only a third of the price they are here…

Several bags of shopping later, Cass announced she had to have food. Preferably grease.

Good grief I’m glad I don’t drink, as I blame alcohol for making Cass think she wanted to eat at BurgerKing. Thank god we couldn’t find one. And I steadfastly refused to eat at KFC. That left McDonalds, and sadly there was one within sight.

Actually it wasn’t so bad, and at least we were sitting down at last.

We had to dash back to the hotel to prepare for the festival (and of course we had shopping bags again, and it was raining again, so we had to hail…).

We left for the festival at 5, just as the heavens really let loose.

In the words of that singer chap from Aerosmith, ‘God cried because we rocked!’ At least I think that’s what he said.

How to describe the festival? Busy. Wet. Bloody noisy. Muddy. Chilly. And it’s the first time I’ve seen a queue for the toilets a couple of HUNDRED people long.

You have no idea how glad I am that I didn’t need the loo that night (not once!!!. Of course I did deny myself liquids from 3.

And it was fun.

I can say that now, though I do seem to recall thinking a few other things when there, but by the time we were walking home I had realised all the irritations are what’s helped make the memory so fun.

Afterall, I now know that dreadlocks smell something chronic when wet. And I now know what’s in those cups you see people throwing up in the air at these things (use your imagination with the loo queues so long!). I know that crowds don’t like people who bring a brolly to these things (BTW, I didn’t, I was in a delightful blue pac-a-mac, cringing whenever the cameras swung around for fear I looked like a giant coloured condom in amongst a sea of black clad rockers).

Sadly I only recognised two songs from the three acts we saw over the six hours. But at least I can say I’ve seen Jet, Chris Connell (Connelly? Either way, he was the ~~cleanest~~ cutest looking man there)

and Aerosmith in concert.

And like I said, it was fun!

In fact the weekend as a whole, was sheer bloody brilliant!

Tomorrow I might tell you about the outrageous conversations of Saturday evening, the weirdo who hugged me at the concert, or how the BH and I missed each other.

Here I am!

2007-06-23T08:42:00.000Z

I’m in London, and having a great time! So far we haven’t done much, as we didn’t even make it to the hotel until 10 last night. But we had fun navigating the tubes with suitcases and have decided it would be best to get a taxi back to Victoria on Monday.

Being London, dinner cost a ridiculous amount, but it was nice to be fed without having to lift a finger. The hotel itself is nice, though we were given a double room with a very small double bed, but after explaining we were friends – but not that gooder friends, they managed to move us to a twin room.

So here we are, taking life easy, Cass is getting ready, and soon we’ll be heading out into the big bad world!

Oh yeah! I’m off to London

2007-06-22T12:12:00.000Z

That’s my attempt at excitement.

Actually that’s not fair, I am kind of excited, it’s just manifesting itself as dread. Mostly of the planes, tubes, crowds, shops, noise, smell, and uncomfortable hotel beds which tend to come with ridiculously bouncy pillows.

Plus, this is my life, and as if on cue my period started this morning, bringing with it spots and cramps. The dog ate the book I wanted to take, and Amazon haven’t delivered the other respectable book I wanted to take (respectable as in, not fluffy romance). Heavy showers are predicted in London on Sunday, which should be fun when we’re standing in Hyde Park being deafened. Oh, and S has been ill the last 3 days.

Had to beg my mother’s help to watch S whilst I went to work this morning, but I’m now home eating my lunch and thinking about packing. I leave at 4, which is about 10 minutes after I get in from the school run. Just enough time for a cuppa and cigarette, thank goodness! Which reminds me of a bonus, England isn’t going smoke free until the 1st of July, so we’ll be able to smoke in the pubs and cafes! I’ve missed that.

On the upside I’m going with Cass, and we can talk till the cows come home, so I figure she’ll be a better travel partner than the girl I went across America with. And she’s also on a budget so the shopping won’t be extensive, and we’re both interested in museums so I’m sure I will enjoy the weekend.

Just nervous. After all take the BH and kids away, and who am I?

Double quick post!

2007-06-19T12:11:00.000Z

I meant to post last Tuesday, I can even prove it as I took pictures in anticipation:

Unfortunately the week ran away from me, and here we are another week gone!

Generally I get Tuesdays and Thursdays off, but between the long dog walk I have to guarantee Kobi each Tuesday morning, and then the tidying up, Tuesdays don’t really exist. And then last Thursday, it was a bake day as I had a cake order for Friday evening.

Here it is:

My eldest, R, claimed it was the best cake yet – but he says this every time, though I have to admit, I find this habit rather cute.

The weekend whizzed by, with a swimming party on Friday evening where I had agreed to stay and play lifeguard (damn lucky too, as one mom left her darling there un-chaperoned and without armbands – suffice to say the little dear didn’t do as she was told and stay in the shallow end, and it was thanks to another ‘lifeguard’ asking me if the girl was drowning, that we ran to the rescue and pulled the soggy mess out before it was too late!)

Saturday was a blur with torrential rain, a kids party outside, swimming, ballet, and cycle proficiency (also outside). Can’t even remember Sunday, except I know it was raining hard and we had ballet.

The boss did mention on Monday that he nearly called me to invite my family out to lunch on Sunday – but he didn’t, as his wife had said I wouldn’t go. Umm, I think we would have actually.

Yesterday held a treat. I had to pop into town to get the boys some dance tops for their tap recital on Wednesday. But (there’s ALWAYS a but!) our only dance shop is closed at the moment, so we trudged around the sports shops in hope of finding tops suitable. No such luck, and in the end I bought P a 4 years olds t-shirt (the tops have to be tight). Not yet sure if he realises he’s wearing a t-shirt made for someone half his age, but even he was so fed up with the endless search he didn’t argue when I said I thought it would do.

The treat part came when I called the BH at 5pm to say he’d be home before us, and could he put the dinner on – but he came up another suggestion – why not meet in town and have dinner out? I know it’s only a little thing, but it’s the first time we’ve ever done that on the spur of the moment! Cost a bloody fortune feeding six of us, but heck, who cares?! (I took my happy pill yesterday, and today ;o))

Today’s vanished. But at least I’ve cleaned the bathroom. I’m soon off to help a friend order some stuff off of the internet (you’d be amazed how many people can’t find their way around the net!)

And I’m not getting my Thursday this week as we have ballet exams that morning. To make life more interesting, I’m not just juggling my own darling’s school times, I’m also doing her best friend as her mom is working – wouldn’t be so bad if they were at the same time, but no, that would be too simple, instead they’re an hour apart.

I’ve also had an offer. My friend Cass is supposed to be going to London Friday evening for the weekend, so that she can see Aerosmith in concert on Sunday – but the woman who was supposed to be going with her is nursing her father, as sadly he’s not long for this world, and unfortunately he won’t have anyone else care for him. So I’ve been invited to take her place, and all I’d have to pay for is the hotel.

I’ve said that Cass CANNOT cancel this trip as she’s been looking forward to it for months, but at the same time this trip is kind of wasted on me, as I’m not into Aerosmith, or any of the other bands playing at the festival. Or even festivals at all. Will find on Friday morning if the other woman had talked her dad into allowing hospice care for three days – if not, guess I’m in London this weekend!

Someone should have told me! (Or maybe I should have been paying attention!!)

2007-06-11T19:02:00.001Z

Do you realise what the date is? We’re nearly half way through June! JUNE!! Crap, where did the year go?

From this point on, for the rest of the year life is like getting fired out of a rocket. Then again maybe I should be glad, as it means January will be around in no time at all!

So I thought I should get my diary up to date, especially as I think we’ve missed a party, but still haven’t found the invitation so can’t be sure, don’t even know who it was from, so I can’t call the mom and claim my ~~kids~~ dog ate it.

Though I seriously doubt we could fit another party in anyway, as we’re booked up until mid-July. Bloody hate kids parties too, and worse still, both P and S are asking if they can have parties.

I think I’m going to tell P no, as he had one two years ago, which isn’t really that long ago, is it? And anyway I don’t much like his friends, so it kinds of sticks in my throat that I have to pay all this money to entertain them. And anyway, both the Saturdays around his birthday are committed already.

Not sure what to do about S. She’s going to lots of parties this year, and I think if I agree to a party then I’ll have to invite the entire class. Blah. Just the thought of it wears me out.

If I knew the moms better I’d invite some here, but as I haven’t made the slightest effort to talk to this group, I don’t know them at all. You know, I don’t know a single mother’s name from S’s class. That’s appalling, and I’m actually feeling ashamed.

Oh, oh, but I have just had a thought about another mom!! Today when we got to school I noticed one of the moms was wearing bands on her wrists. It was only the look on her face, as she noticed my face, that stopped me laughing out loud!

She’s 7 weeks pregnant, but it’s a secret. Figure I can tell you though, as it’s not like you’re going to show up and look for the mom wearing sea-sickness bands in the playground! She said I was the first person who’d noticed the bands and knew why she might be wearing them. Ha, after four pregnancies I know most of the tricks!

But back to birthdays, I suppose I should start by buying some gifts, damn, this is how I end up so broke!

Leaps and bounds!

2007-06-09T16:45:00.000Z

No, it’s not me leaping, or bounding. As if. In fact, knowing me I’d yawn at the wrong moment and fall flat on my face (though I could actually catch forty winks whilst down there!).

I’m talking about P. He’s had a heck of a week. Of course it’s all relative, because if we were talking about R I wouldn’t be shouting this with the level of pride I feel, as everything appears to come easy to R.

Is that wrong? To admit you treat your children differently? Well if it is, I guess it just makes me a bad mum, but keep that quiet as I don’t think the kids have figured it out yet!

Anyway back to P and why I’m feeling so proud of him. Regular readers will know, life isn’t a breeze to P. Though I should add, most of his problems are of his own making. The one thing that isn’t his fault is that he’s not very academic. In other words, not a patch on R. But as I keep reminding him, the competition isn’t with R, it’s doing the best he can – for himself.

But regular readers will also know, thanks to a small run-in I had last year with a certain teacher – who’s now headmaster(!!) – P will not be continuing at his present school when he hits the seniors. Which is more than a problem, as the only other school he can attend is very academic, and so for the last year we’ve endlessly stressed the importance of study.

And it’s paying off!

Though bloody hard work (from all of us) he was allowed into a higher maths group this week – but just for the week, to see how he does. And come the weekly test on Friday, he had the second best score out of twenty-four boys!

But that wasn’t the best! The best was he also earned his school year’s merit badge!! And it’s nothing to do with the maths class, this is awarded based on a point system which they earn for anything from homework, presentation, and politeness for things like remembering to open doors for people.

Oh heck, I know this probably doesn’t sound like much, but P’s never won anything. Never even done well before. And I’m so proud of him, largely because it’s a reflection that so many of his ‘issues’ are behind him.

It really is a weight off of my mind to know he’s growing up and starting to see the big picture. In fact a couple of months ago I lost my temper and told him a terrible truth, which was I could die tomorrow and I know my parting thought would be fear over what would become of P. No one loves him like me – which I know is what any mother can say about her children, but all my other children are loved and liked by others too. Whereas P’s never made it easy for others to feel that way about him.

But it’s all changing. One of my friends has even made a bet with me that it will be P who takes life by the horns and conquers all. Bloody hell, I hope so! And if he’s keeps working this hard, he’ll deserve it.

But onto the other horrors. J amazes me. Last night she went for her first sleepover (have to admit, this pissed P off a lot – as he didn’t go on his first sleepover until he was 7, and he just didn’t think it was right that J was allowed at 6!). There was also a school disco to start the evening off with, but it wasn’t her school and she only knew two people there.

I worried, but knew my friend Cass would look after her. J did better than that! After Cass’s daughter came out early saying she’d had enough, they had to wait for J, as she didn’t want to leave as she announced it was the best disco she’s ever been to, and was doing really well in the dancing competition.

Cass and I laughed about it today, as neither of us would have endured in such a situation. But J has such confidence, she was talking to anyone who’d listen and asking to dance with whoever was close.

Amazing. You wouldn’t think she was mine!

Oh and she got through the night with no problems either, which doesn’t surprise me, as unlike P, J doesn’t panic easily.

Onto my eldest, R, or rather ‘The Git’. I guess the teenage hormones are kicking in. The bloody attitude on him is starting to drive me nuts. What’s weird is, he still has wonderful moments! Never mind, only another eight years to go before this phase passes (I hope!)

In fairness to R, this past year has been his most challenging to date. Up until Christmas he was very lonely at his new school, and then a lad who he became friends with, seemed to spend time with R out of school, just so he could take the mickey when in school. The whole thing wasn’t easy for R, but he dealt with it well, and suffice to say R told the lad he wasn’t welcome at our house any longer. Luckily kids, being kids, they have managed to become friends at school again, but R still hasn’t invited him back here.

Not that it matters now, as R is over the moon because a new boy has started. It definitely seems to have taken the pressure off R being the new kid, and wonder of wonders they’re fast becoming best friends.

I had to laugh when R told me how great it was being mates with this boy, apparently he’s excellent at French (and as he sits next to R, this is proving beneficial to R!), and built like a brick shit house so no one picks on him.

It’s good to see R happy again, even if it does only last until we get home, whereupon he resorts to his sulks (this week because I’m making him do a cycle proficiency course on Saturday afternoons! Evil mommy that I am).

And so that leaves S, my funny little one on the end. Not much to say about her, she’s still little, still cute, and still tells me she loves me every five minutes. She’s a sweetheart, and no doubt it’ll all be downhill from here. But at least I’ll be able to read my words in a few years and dimly recall such a time!

Plus… I’m broody. Really broody. I know it would be a medical impossibility, but medicine can do wonderful things these days. Of course the BH isn’t so enamoured. Thinks I’m mad actually. Says he doesn’t want to be a dad at forty-five, that by the time the child’s twenty, it won’t be fair that he’ll be sixty-five.

I guess when he puts it like that, I can see sense. And it’s not like I’m coping marvellously with the ones I’ve got. But still… I miss babies. And everyone seems to be having babies again, and as S is five, I’d cope better than I did with three under five. But then, where would we put a fifth? And we can’t afford a fifth. And I hated the pregnancies. In fact I know I’m being silly. But still…

I guess if I’m thinking like this, today must have been a good day!

Eaten alive!

2007-06-07T19:11:00.000Z

Today feels like I’m surrounded by piranha, and each little bugger is taking a bite. None of those bites are very big, but there’re so many of them that it’s starting to hurt.

Not that I know what it’s like to be eaten by piranha.

Do you know what today is? It’s the 2nd anniversary of this place, though I am being a cheeky mare in stating that, as my posts have dwindled to such a pathetic pace.

Not that I care. Seriously I don’t. And I know that’s incredibly rude to those of you who still swing by here, but I don’t mean to be. It’s just that when I started this place, it was for my own benefit – to get things off of my chest (so to speak) – and I think I forgot that for a while. Kinda got worried I was boring you all to death. Which I am. But I’ve come to realise that shouldn’t matter. And right now it doesn’t, so I’ve said it.

Anyways, back to what I came here for, I’m fish food. Thankfully not the literal kind. It just gets real tiring trying to live. I’m sick of being taken for granted, of my time and wants being of no relevance to others. Completely unimportant.

The children are the worst, though plenty of adults have a go too. But I’m going to stop there, (here, whatever!) as I often regret putting some of my less than gracious thoughts down on paper. And it’s probably only because I’m tired that I’m like this anyway. So damn tired.

In fact I KNOW I’m stressed again because my stomach is bad and I was up at five-thirty this morning. Not that I’m complaining, at least my kitchen was tidy for a while this morning, and having such an dicey stomach is probably what has kept the weight off all those years!

Ho-hum, at least tomorrow is another day and I can take some more ~~drugs~~ happy pills. Oh goody.

Bad days and good…

2007-06-05T17:44:00.000Z

Yesterday was a bad day. I don’t know why, but I awoke in a low mood which didn’t improve as the day progressed. I had forgotten to take my happy pills on Sunday, so maybe it was simply the lack of drugs!

But onto today. Today has been a good day. Today my friend, Anna, turned forty. I’ll say to you what I said to her, how the fuck can I have friends this old?! it would be okay if I was hanging around with older people, but Anna’s just one of many hitting the forties. And soon it will be my turn.

I feel old.

And fat. Which is almost as bad, as it’s not something I’ve had to think about since being a teenager. I know all the other mothers complain about weight issues endlessly, but it’s new to me, and bloody depressing. And depressing is not what I need.

I can’t figure it out. I’ve been able to eat what I like for years, and it used to be no sooner did I wish to lose weight, than I did. But no longer. Now, my jeans just get tighter and tighter.

Don’t think I’m expecting any sympathy. I’m not, doubly so as I’ve been in the minority not having to worry about weight before. But this is my place and I want to grumble. So I’ll grumble.

It’s not bloody fair. I don’t want to get old. And I don’t want to get fat.

Anyway, grumble over, onto happier things. Like birthdays. Except…celebrating age with a fattening cake seems a tad ironic now I stop to think about it…

AHHHHHHH!!!!! Around in circles I go!! What's new??!!

So I was talking about cakes. I really think I could start a business with these cakes. I know some of you have been saying it for a while, but as I’m an insecure (old, and fat) person, it really doesn’t matter what other people say, I have to believe it myself. And at last, I think I do.

I’m becoming almost quick now. The cakes themselves usually only take me a couple of hours. Of course taking a only couple of hours over something is hardly fun, as I might be insecure, but I also enjoy a challenge.

So last week I taught myself how to make two tier cakes,

and this week I decided to move on to making my own ~~Scottish stud~~ Highlander.

I made this cake for Anna. We like the same books, and more often than not, they have a Scottish ~~hunk~~ hero, called Jamie. The BH told me he thought the sword was wrong – that I’d given my hero a broadsword, but I assured him I know a claymore when I see one, and this one is definitely a claymore. When I told him how I know, he gave me a very bemused look! Anna knew it was a claymore too.

Goes to show even fluffy books have a purpose. Damn shame carrying a real claymore around is illegal, and why the hell aren’t kilts more in fashion?

I swear I would be in a good mood every day, if only…

Getting ratty!

2007-05-13T07:28:00.000Z

I’m in pain. I have been for over a week, and I shouldn’t even be telling you about it as typing is one of the things that causes the bloody pain!

I’ve even been to the doctor already (and we all know how tight I am!), and you know what he said? Talk about adding insult to injury, he suggested I work on my ‘posture’! POSTURE? Bloody posture?! I have the best bloody posture of most people I know!!

But I didn’t say that. I humbly nodded, and later told my mother who did the laughing for me. I’m in too much pain to laugh, instead I roll my shoulders back a lot, stick out my boobs, and try to remember never to cross my legs.

At least the doctor said if it wasn’t better after a week of anti-inflammatories, I could have an x-ray. Only three days to go.

Then it’ll probably be a week or so before the Dr’s ready to see me, and then… then what? Bloody hell I don’t know, don’t care either, just hope he can stop the bloody pain.

I’m not so bad in the day, it’s just the mornings, evenings, and nights which are the worst. Trying to sleep is the real killer, doesn’t seem to matter how I arrange myself, my shoulder screams.

Last night was bad. I was nearly asleep, oh so nearly… when I heard a beep. It was loud, but I was nearly asleep so I tried to ignore it.

But the beeps kept coming. Every three minutes I estimate. And bloody hell three minutes can be a long time when you’re standing in a hall trying to determine where the bloody beep is coming from!

You should see the hall now. Every electronic toy I stumbled over is pilled high, the night lights and room fresheners are all unplugged and stuffed under various cushions, every tv, video, and dvd player was quickly switched off at the wall, while ipods, speakers and anything else I could find was shoved in drawers.

But how is it, in a house of six, that I’m the only person it bothered?! Sure, some turned over and grumbled in their sleep as I tiptoed around rooms, trying to determine where the bloody beep originated from, but between the teeth grinding, snorting (both from R!), and snoring, they were all content and peaceful.

I, on the other hand, lugged my stupid, painful right shoulder about, and cursed the lot of them! But I found the bloody beep, and I’ve half a mind to take number 1 son’s phone away from him if he can’t keep the damn thing charged whilst keeping it in some obscure pocket!

Eventually I got back to bed. But I wasn’t tired by then, just pissed off and in pain. Funny how you start to notice little things in the dead of night, like the fact it feels like I live in a barnyard!

Between the snoring, the grunts, and the demented mumblings of others dreams, it’s a wonder I got any sleep at all.

Though in fairness I should add, the BH has been telling me all week how I keep screaming swear words in my sleep.

And I know I woke up swearing this morning, when I rolled on my bloody shoulder.

So here we are, on a damp miserable Sunday morning, with an hour to go until I have to wake J for ballet. Now the house is quiet. Except for the mutt, who’s busy chomping on a bone and trying to tempt my slippers into playing. If he keeps it up, I’ll kick him.

No rest for the wicked…

2007-04-28T20:19:00.000Z

Two cakes this week! I’m sure I’d be thrilled if I was trying to start a business, but as I’m not, I’m kinda wondering how these things happen... and I’ve lost count of the number of orders I’ve got, I think it’s six not counting my own kids, but I really must start writing these things down…anyways, I'm definitely getting *better!

Here’re this week’s two:

And in case you’re too old to know, the first picture is of the Power Puff girls… I think, or maybe it’s Powder Puff, yikes I really should pay more attention! And, yes, that's foam you can see, but it's for support until everything is dry, not eating.

If you're thinking you've seen the second one here before, you'd be right, as lots of little girls like the same things!

Other news includes three parties within twenty-four hours – not recommended by the way, or rather having four kids who get invited to parties, isn’t recommended.

And ballet. Tomorrow at ten. Ten in the morning, on a Sunday. UGH. Not that I’m not up, thanks to the damn dog (I at least, have the kids trained!), but I like taking it slow at least one day a week. And I'm hoping to wallpaper my bedroom wall (that’s re-paper for those who’ve been around long enough), as my Christmas present from my parents finally arrived. I should add, it’s so late because I couldn’t decide what to get, rather than my mother being slack.

It’s a picture, a beautiful picture of a beach, and I stare at it thinking how much I’d like to walk right onto it. And talking of beaches, this good weather is a pain! Whenever the sun comes out all the ‘fair weather’ beachgoers show-up with their little darlings and glare at my big bad dog. I glare at him too, but I’m allowed.

He’s just thrown up by the way. It appears he ate the play-clay S won on the pass-the-parcel game. The BH is calling him in, but I'm thinking there was more…

* 'Better' at cake decorating, not writing things down...

Conversations from last night…

2007-04-17T16:09:00.000Z

P: ‘So I’m half Scottish, and half English?’

R: ‘No, you’re half Scottish, and half Welsh.’

Me: ‘No he’s not, I’m not Welsh!’

R: ‘But you were born in Wales.”

Me: ‘But I don’t have any Welsh blood. And you were born here, does that make you J*****?’

R and P frown at each other.

R: ‘Dad says you’re Welsh.’

Me: ‘Dad likes to wind me up.’

R: ‘So what are you?’

Me: ‘Technically, I have some English heritage, and some European.’

R: ‘So you’re English.’

Me: ‘No, I'm not English. I have some English blood is all, but I'm not really anything.'

R (giving me a sly knowing grin): 'You have to be something! You're Welsh, admit it.'

Me: 'No I'm not! My biological mother was on holiday when she had me, she didn’t mean to have me in Wales!’

R: ‘How do you know that?’

Me: ‘Because she told me.’

R: ‘You’ve met her?’

Me: ‘Yes.’

R: ‘When?’

Me (starting to feel out of my depth and becoming aware that my three youngest children are paying way too much attention to this conversation): ‘None of your business, and I think we’ll drop this conversation now.’

Half an hour later P comes and finds me in the office.

P: ‘Mom, are you my biological mother?’

Me: ‘Yes, P.’

P: ‘Prove it!’

Me (wondering what his big brother has been telling him): ‘Well, there are pictures of me when I was pregnant with you, pictures of us together right after you were born. In fact I even have pictures of you when you were in my tummy. And, I have a scar where they cut me open when you were born.’

P (thinks on it for a moment): ‘But maybe they mixed me up with another baby…’

Me (rolling my eyes): ‘You and J are too alike for that. Trust me, P, you’re mine!’ I tell him and push him out the door into the kitchen, where he passes his father.

P: ‘Dad, I’ve just asked mom if you’re my biological father, and she said no!’

Me: Lost for words, and wondering what I can throw at the little git as he runs off laughing.

BH: Also lost for words, but has his eyebrows raised!

Perfecting my smile

2007-04-15T09:01:00.000Z

Today is the last day of the Easter holidays. Depressing in itself, but more so when you think the Summer Term will last for three months this year. It’s always long, but three months just looks like forever right now. At least I should get to catch up at work.

Not that I’m really behind, but I want to organise the office and streamline all the bits I never have time for. Do you realise I’ve been with Tim for over a year now? And I still love my job! It’s brilliant now, as I know it inside out and feel in control.

The only thing which worries me is the boss’s wife. You may recall Sally is a friend, and it’s down to her that I got the job. There’s nothing wrong as such, we’re still great mates, but I fret she must get sick of the sight of me. It’s probably just my imagination, as there’s nothing in her behaviour to suggest this, not really, probably just one of my imagined worries!

I do seem to like them.

Umm, I’m wondering if I dare explain what a horrid person I’ve become? Well, I suppose sharing secrets is what this place is for, and there’s only the BH and Cass I can talk to in RL about this issue and I think they’re getting sick of it, so I’ll bore you instead.

In September several new girls started in J’s school year. Can’t be easy for these moms arriving at a school where so many friendships have already been established.

I noticed two of them. One I went to school with myself, so she was easy to talk to. Another is from Canada, and didn’t know a soul. Even with her endlessly cheerful twangy accent, I really like her and suggested to my friends we invite her to some of out get togethers. But no, the others weren’t so sure, as she’s always so well presented it made some feel like she’s more of a grown up than the rest of us.

Then there was a third. I didn’t notice her once during the first term, but my daughters had mentioned her daughter so I knew she existed.

You could say the first meeting was catastrophic, though I’ve since tried to put it out of my mind. But it won’t go away. I walked into the playground and spotted Sally talking to someone. I wandered over to say good morning, but waited behind until they’d finished their sentences.

The new mom turned and looked at me. And what a look. Up and down, with distaste written clear.

I can’t deny I was shaken. I haven’t been looked at like that since…well I can’t actually remember. I just stood there like a lemon wondering who the hell this woman was.

I soon found out, as Eva, the new mom, was suddenly great friends with all my friends. In fact it felt like I couldn’t have a conversation without Eva being there. And she’s got plenty to add to all conversations.

Been and done everything, has Eva. Seriously, whatever you can come up with, she will have a better story to recount.

In all fairness to her, she’s never given me such a filthy look again, and it’s hardly her fault she’s got experience of everything. And I know it can’t be easy being a new mom.

But I just can’t take to her.

And if that’s all there was to it, I’d shrug and say ‘So what? You can’t like everyone!’

But a couple of weeks after she’d appeared, Sally watched her walk away then turned to me and smiled, ‘Eva irritates you, doesn’t she?’

I was mortified. True, Eva does irritate the hell out of me (and I haven’t even mentioned her awful accent) but I’m not a total bitch – and I certainly don’t want Eva to guess the way I feel about her!

Blinking away the shock of being caught, I asked if it was obvious. Sally said not, just that I was very quiet around Eva, and she knew my body language well enough to see I wasn’t comfortable.

I poured some of it out, and then apologised. At the end of the conversation I simply said I’d learn to deal with it, but I’d be grateful if Eva wasn’t invited to all our get togethers, just yet. I just needed some time to get used to her.

But it seems time was against me. Everywhere I went, Eva was there. Endlessly talking. Wouldn’t be so bad, if everyone didn’t adore her. But even when she’s not bloody there, I can’t have a conversation with any of the moms without them commenting how great Eva is.

So, staying quiet and changing the subject have become my middle names.

Then the holidays began, and I sighed with the relief of two whole weeks without Eva in my life.

Ha, fat f*cking chance!

On the first Saturday there was a party, and who should walk in just as I sat myself down? Yep, Eva. ‘Are you staying?’ she asked Sally, and after Sally nodded, Eva promised to be back as quickly as possible. Twenty minutes later we’re all sharing a table and listening to Eva’s garden and decoration tips.

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad afternoon. I spent the time smiling and convincing myself I could cope with her for a few short hours.

Then it was time to go home. I nodded at Sally and said I’d see her next week – meaning AT WORK. But no, Sally was thinking of the moms get together we’d arranged for the Wednesday, and she promptly invited Eva to join us.

Sally caught me up in the car park, and asked me if it was alright to invite Eva like that.

What the hell was I supposed to say? The deal was done, and so I smiled (again, and it was starting to hurt by this time!) and said, ‘Of course it’s fine! The more the merrier.’

Thank god Easter arrived and my children duly vomited their way through it.

Come Tuesday I went into work and was able say with complete honesty, that my kids were sick and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make Wednesday.

But I hadn’t actually decided not to go at that point. After all, there were two other moms going to be there and I was looking forward to catching up with them.

The nail in the coffin came when Sally announced that because of the fine weather we should change the venue to the beach.

I don’t do the beach. I walk on it, but I don’t have the patience to lie on it for hours at a time. It’s no secret, in fact it’s a bit of a joke with my friends.

I felt slapped (I still do). But smiled and said I’d hope to be there, knowing I wouldn’t be.

I called my friend Anna that night to let her know the change of venue, and also to let her know I wouldn’t be going – because P was still ill.

She kindly offered to take my girls for me, as they’d be disappointed not to go.

I gratefully agreed, even knowing it would mean listening to her round up of the afternoon with plenty about Eva. But it was worse than that, as Eva had saved the day when S had had an accident.

Wonderful, now I have to thank Eva when we go back to school.

And when I showed up at work on Friday, Sally also made a big point of telling me how wonderful Eva is.

Why does everyone keep doing this?! It’s like they all know I need convincing. But I haven’t bitched about the woman to anyone at school beyond that first conversation with Sally, and I’ve studiously avoided saying anything negative about Eva again. And yet, it feels like she’s constantly in my face.

Irony is, I know it’s not even Eva feeding my dislike anymore!

Anyway, now you can all see what a bitch I am at heart. This woman’s done nothing to me, and yet I can’t stand her. I suppose I should just be grateful this is the first time I’ve ever disliked someone without understanding why.

It’s not a good feeling.

And there’s only twenty-four hours to go, before I’ve got three months of her. Wish me luck.

I just have to tell you…

2007-04-12T20:40:00.001Z

I’ve just been looking at my stats for the first time in months, and I noticed someone found me whilst searching Google for:

‘vet, dog ate my underwear, is he going to die’

Well, if you or anyone else in need of reassurance arrives here again with that question, let me provide an answer…

It is highly unlikely a dog will die (unless maybe your underwear and dog are in extreme opposite *proportions).

How can I be so sure? Watch a young Labrador and their owner when out walking, I really can’t believe Kobi is the only stupid beast who needs help when passing the last of my tea towels. (If I had the inclination, they could probably be used again as he no longer bothers shredding them before consumption. He even managed half a hand towel one day, and those things must suck up any liquid something awful!)

Rest easy, and you’ll only run out of underwear two or three times before the message to ‘Pick your underwear up!’ sinks in. (Suddenly being out of tea towels will irritate you considerably less than suddenly being out of underwear. At least it does me.)

Oh, and if your dog eats a battery, my vet said not to worry about them either.

* And that'd be the dog which is small ;o)

So

2007-04-12T19:37:00.000Z

February flashed by, March came and went, and here we are in April.

It’s now over a year since Ryker died and I still miss the old fart, more so at the moment as I’m getting severely pissed off with Kobi of late. He’s a good looking dog but doesn’t know his place, though someone explained why the other day – apparently a dog gets his idea of his importance from his litter, i.e. leader of the pack there, leader of the pack at home. I’ve no idea if this is true (and that’s why I said ‘apparently’!), but it does make sense when you take into account Ryker was the runt of his, whereas there is little doubt, Kobi wasn’t.

I really don’t know what to do. I can’t live without a dog and I’ve always been of the opinion when you get a puppy it’s like getting a child – you’re stuck with them for life. But Kobi doesn’t make liking him easy. He’s a pain in the arse in every way possible (chewing, peeing, stealing, nipping, pushing people over/out of the way) it truly is harder work than having another child!

On the upside, he doesn’t fight with other dogs. But this is the only upside, and instead he’s fair game for having a go at any horses he sees.

I used to think it was how you treated a dog that resulted in what you got in return. I should have known better, after all, the kids taught me years ago that you can raise them the same, doesn’t mean you’ll get the same!

Did I mention we had him snipped? And it wasn’t to make him calmer (though we live in hope), but because I figured I couldn’t breed this dog for fear I might inflict his personality traits on others.

What’s a mom to do? Even if I don’t like him, I love him. But ask anyone else in the family, and there’s a chorus of ‘Get rid of him!’ – which I honestly find surprising considering how they all adore animals. But I’m not getting rid of him, I can’t, instead I’ll just pray that I’ll read this in a year or so and smile with forgotten memories.

And whilst I’m talking about animals, I’ll mention the poor Thrush who flew into my window today. Another one killed himself. It always breaks my heart, but I was cross today as I saw a Magpie swooping away. I hate Magpies, I have ever since I was 9 and came home to find they’d got into my rabbit hutch and slaughtered three of my baby bunnies. Guts everywhere. Bloody Magpies.

Bloody pheasants too; they’re everywhere! Stupid birds scare off all the others (except the flippin’ Magpies!!!)

On a sweeter note, we have two new bunnies in the garden. They’re obviously young and are still too brave/stupid for their own good. Wonderful for us when they allow us to sit 15 foot away, but it won’t be if the cats (or magpies!) get close.

Geepers I’m moaning. Didn’t mean to, and I haven’t even mentioned my drama of yesterday. But I’ve decided not to mention that, as I’m now thinking I was over thinking. If you get my drift.

Anyway, I’ve decided I’d like to get back into this blogging lark, I miss it. And I miss all of you. But as ever, it’s a time thing. Or tiredness thing, depending upon how you look at it.

In fact I’m too tired to carry on typing, and the evening is running away from me and I need a bath. I’ll leave you with some recent piccies.

The Beast! (Looking innocent)
S at her school's Mother's Day Service (standing in front of her depiction of *me*)

S getting Bronze in a local art competition.

J being beautiful.

My garden, in a prettier, tranquil, moment.

Just call me Slack Jack!

2007-02-24T13:27:00.000Z

This time last week, I was thinking it’s time I came off of these happy pills. Too dull, and too detached from my responsibilities to care.

Then I ran out of pills.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, just pop up the pharmacy and fill another prescription. But I was busy.

It was half term this week, all the kids off. And J’s 6th Birthday. Plus we had various appointments, not to mention my boss is away and I had to work a few hours to cover things.

By the third day without my happy pill, I was starting to feel less than happy.

But I did manage to make this:

Along with a pile of other goodies, which I really should have photographed before they were eaten by this lot:

J had a good 6th birthday. And it didn’t end there, she also had her first sleepover! Heaven help me, it may be a while before I’m up for that again as I discovered some little girls can stay awake later than me.

On the upside, all this was achieved because I received my Christmas pressie on Monday (last years, not this!) It is a thing of beauty!

At least to my eyes, though one of the other moms did say if her husband had given her a mixer for Christmas, she would have lamped him!

And I already know what I want for this years Christmas present. This:

It’s a Scooba, and it washes floors! How divine is that?! Typically you can’t buy the bloody thing around here, but that’s where my love of eBay will pay off! Now all I have to do is save up for it.

And that’s easier said than done, when money seems to flow out of this house easier than water.

And by that comment you may guess, I haven’t done anything about my many business ideas. I wonder about that. Am I a lazy person? All talk and no motivation? My mom doesn’t think so, she’s always made a big deal out of the fact I can achieve whatever I set my mind to, but she often adds, I become easily bored.

Don’t think that’s so true now, because I never have time to get bored these days. I just never have time to finish anything!

Yep, I always have a ton of excuses. Take January, it was a complete write off. Within hours of writing my last post, I got sick.

I had flu, which after properly having it, I now know I’ve never had before. It was nearly three weeks before I had the energy to get through a day. And that’s a damn fine excuse! February has been full of trying to catch up.

And if we go back, December was about Christmas, kids holidays, and trying to keep up at work. November was Nano, and October was preparing for the trip to collect our car.

It’s occurred to me I could go on… probably for about twelve years, as could many of you with kids.

When I think of it like that, I don’t feel so guilty or useless (just a tad stupid for having so many kids!!)

But back to business ideas. It doesn’t help I seem to be working so much, even the boss noticed and asked what takes so long in the office! His comment makes me feel a bit guilty, but the woman I took over from had one job for one company, now there are two companies, and I’m also the family’s secretary doing all their stuff. Thankfully the boss also says a lot of nice things too.

And I haven’t quite given up the baking idea. You see I saw something on the net –you recall this cake I did?:

I saw the same design for sale at $150. $150, are people mad?! I would love to bake for a living, damn shame I've got a dog.

And speaking of Kobi, he’s still here (and that wasn’t a given). I think the dog’s biggest problem is, not realising he isn’t one of the kids! Bloody heffalump is forever trying to sit on me. Or hump my leg. Will soon have to decide whether I’m going to get him snipped, or breed Labradors. Yes, another bright idea. Except not so bright, as there isn’t real money in it unless you cut corners or do it on a grand scale (neither of which appeal to me). But I always thought I would breed dogs, and I can’t quite give up on the idea. Still, a small voice of common-sense wouldn’t let me move forward, least not until Kobi’s had his hip and eye scores done (in a couple of months).

And he’s still a buggar. Chews everything within reach, barks at inanimate objects, jumps up at everyone (except me), won’t walk on a lead, and is the most skittish dog I’ve ever had.

It’s crazy but he’s scared of so many things. Men in yellow jackets, balloons, large gloves, people with ear muffs on, horses, children who wake him in the night (especially little girls on sleepovers). If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it’d be funny. Embarrassing, because the daft dog barks like mad whilst crawling along the floor, wetting himself. The rest of the time I’m hauling him off of people. The dog is deranged. And fits right in!

Anyway, I’m going to go now. I’ve waffled long enough and I can smell warm cookies, fresh from the oven, and you have to be quick in this house or the little people will eat everything...

The problem with never stopping…

2007-01-14T10:41:00.000Z

…is that when you do, you collapse from exhaustion!

Where to start?

Christmas? It went fine. No arguments with family at the dinner table (which had to be a first!), and kids happy with all that they received.

The kids?

R: Ugh. Since Christmas we’ve had plenty of arguments with our firstborn. The little git is growing up; damn those hormones! But when I’m not shouting at him, I’m teaching him to squeeze his spots. Seriously. And it turns out the boy can’t use a mirror, though I don’t mean he can’t look in one, just that he can’t coordinate his hands to touch his face where he means to (whoever heard of such a thing?!) – very dangerous when he’s holding a needle!

P: Umm. He listens to R too much. And he appears to be reverting to his youthful habit of throwing tantrums, which doesn’t please me – especially when shopping. And his teeth! Poor boy visited the dentist for the first time this week, and now he needs a filling. He gave me a worried look when the dentist told me (I’m a tad freaky about the kids brushing their teeth!). But it turns out, this particular tooth didn’t form properly and it’s not his fault this one tooth is weak. More worrying is getting referred to the orthodontist when he’s only eight, but now his second teeth are through at the front they can see he’s going to have big problems, and as his bottom teeth are already hitting his palate they apparently need to watch him.

J: Ha! Pity the man she marries! Little Miss Superior (as I’ve taken to calling her) is outdoing herself on all fronts – except keeping her room tidy. Helped us strip wallpaper for an hour yesterday, and was most miffed when we stopped for a break. Really must remind her who is the parent.

S: The funny little one on the end. Wish she didn’t enjoy being the baby so much. And why do kids suddenly return to being clingy? It’s tiring! And not much fun when they’ve at last had a growth spurt and now weigh a ton.

And this week hasn’t been the best. On Monday I had three of them off with a vomiting bug, two on Tuesday, one on Wednesday, back to work on Thursday, then the forth off on Friday with it! And I had to take S to work with me on Friday, not the best plan as she was throwing up before I’d even parked. The boss wasn’t thrilled either, though he let me know in the nicest possible way I shouldn’t be taking sick kids in with me. But what am I supposed to do? I have to be at work on Fridays, as a team of men need paying, and I don’t have anyone to palm my kids off on (where have all the full-time mothers gone? Oh yeah, we’re all juggling kids and jobs!)

On the bright side, I didn’t get the vomiting bug! Don’t feel very chirpy about that though, as I woke up this morning and my chest feels raw. And my shoulders and elbows are aching *sigh*, just what I need!

Got a lot to do today as well. I’ve finished the work I brought home from the office, and I’m at last writing a post, all that’s left is: walking the dog, tidying and cleaning the house, wallpapering one wall of our bedroom (you recall I did it last year? But we have a condensation problem, and yesterday we had to strip one wall), list about two hundred things on eBay, and start a new business.

I want to go back to bed.

But seeing as I can’t, I’ll tell you a bit about this business I’m starting (because I’m so bored with all my spare time!!). It’s basically an internet shop (yet another of my bright ideas to bring in extra pennies ;o)) At first I’ll use dropshippers (as there’s very little outlay), but I’m hoping to move up to stocking luxury bed linen, which will take some funds as I can’t find a dropshipper for that. Once it’s designed and running, I’ll post a link. And if any of you have any advice/tips/leads on this, please let me know.

Still working with the ideas, I can’t quite give up on the cake decorating (I miss it!). Unfortunately my Kenwood is all but dead, and though I’m supposed to be buying a new one (for my Christmas present) and I can’t bear to part with the money just yet. But back to the point, I’ve seen this ‘Cake Decorating Made Easy’ video book for sale and I really want to buy it! unfortunately I can’t afford that right now either, so I’ll have to wait. But isn’t it typical how you see these things right after Christmas?!

So anyway, that’s my life right now, along with a temporary filling that’s bothering me, but I won’t bore you with that as I’m sure you have a life to get back to - hey, I might even visit you and try to see that for myself!

P.s. Don’t have time to check my grammar, feel free to go mad Dave ;o)

‘Twas the night before Christmas…

2006-12-24T16:30:00.000Z

You recall how I said I’d done really well with the Christmas shopping? And I did, for the kids. But I kinda forgot the BH. Not entirely you understand, just that he usually gets at least five things, that being one from each of the kids, and something from me. I didn’t even realise until last night when I went to wrap them.

To make matters worse, yesterday morning he asked how long he should go out for. Receiving nothing but a frown from me, he explained that he didn’t want to ruin my surprise by arriving home early before the TV was up.

Oops, I’m not sure this Christmas is going to be all that he hopes for.

Oh and the girls main present hasn't arrived. Ironic really, as the doll's house was the first thing ordered way back in July!

Never mind, as J says, presents are not the point of Christmas. Have a great one, one and all!

And here's a Christmas tune, where is does seem to be about the presents. Catchy nonetheless ;o)

Something to write about!

2006-12-22T18:40:00.000Z

That’s what the BH said to me when I stopped cursing. He cursed for slightly longer, but then he was still wearing his suit, so I guess that’s a good excuse and surely anyone getting suddenly sprayed with several cans of ice cold coke, would swear. Bloody kids thought it was hilarious, and if they were brighter I might think they set the situation up. And maybe I should write to Coca-Cola, and tell them how dangerous their new ‘fridge pack’ packaging is, when kids don’t open the box correctly?! When the box is laid on its side, those darn cans hurt your toes after rolling out, one after another, like flippin’ machine gun fire! At least the way the cans broke was interesting, some splitting apart in a spiral fashion, others creasing and bursting forth with pinhole cracks. The BH recons it’s the closest I’ve come to dancing in many years. But I wasn’t much amused with the amount of wiping up required.

And daft things don’t end there. Take today, the holidays have begun, the Christmas shopping is complete, and bar tonight’s meat, the food shopping too. Nothing to do but slob about (actually, that’s not true. But it’s nearly Christmas, and I’m on holiday!), so I figured I’d hit several birds with one stone (why did I write that? That’s an awful thing to say – but I’ll explain in a mo). The dog needed walking, the kids needed some air, and we needed some chicken for Tonight’s dinner – so I decided we’d walk to the shops.

Of course the BH didn’t consider joining us, and R managed to wheedle out of it by offering to help dad wash the deck, so four of us, and the dog, headed off for a brisk walk.

Apart from the stupid mutt managing to prove the dog research experts wrong by refusing to walk calmly in his new halti, the trip there went very well. And things started well on the way home too, I was almost imagining how I could tell the BH how he missed a joyous outing. Almost.

Unfortunately what I instead got to do, was call the BH and beg that he pick us all up. After all, a four year old can’t walk home, through grass, mud, and leafs , in just a sock, which is all she had left after my foot caught her heal and clean ripped the sole of her boot off.

And S’s reaction? ‘At least I still have the other boot!”

Never mind, it’s what memories are made of!

Back to my poor taste comment about birds. Dingbat died this week. Silly old bird had to be taken to the vet in the end. Wasn’t my idea, but when R sat me down and explained it wasn’t fair on Dingbat to keep him alive, I felt so guilty I knew I had to. And things had gotten a lot worse, but I won’t describe them here as it wouldn’t make for entertaining reading.

P came with me when it was done. He said he understood why we were doing it when we went, but by the evening I was again explaining. He took it harder than I expected, and I keep wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have allowed him to come with me, but he wanted to, and he’d become very close to Dingbat of late. But he cried most of the day, and I don’t think the school were very impressed with me.

We buried Dingbat by the pagoda, and have placed a large plant pot above him. After Christmas the kids and I will plant it with something bright and cheerful, just like Dingbat.

What’s a little bit scary is, I didn’t cry. I haven’t cried since the day I began taking my happy tablets, how weird is that? Very little moves me, and there isn’t much that touches me deep inside anymore. If I had more energy I’m sure I’d be seriously concerned. Instead I sit here knowing it isn’t right, but at the same time, if I try and change it, then everything might come back and I’d be a wreak again.

And people have been commenting on my calmness again. That used to make me laugh, as nothing was further from the truth (this was way back before I needed the happy pills!) Now, I believe them, as compared to most of them, I am calm. Just not for the reasons they probably think.

But I’ve made that all sound rather low, and I’m not! I’m good. Detached and tired, but good.

And to solve my tiredness I’d like a new bed, ideally one with a crappy soft mattress. I know this because I slept in S’s bed the other night, and it was the first time in years I didn’t wake full of aches. The BH nearly choked at the irony when I told him how much I enjoyed her bed, and sadly he’s not as keen to swap our expensive bed that works so well for his back.

And talking about aches and pains, I haven’t mentioned J getting sick in the car and my lackwit brother. Not that the two are related, just that aches and pains reminded me of them.

I picked J up from school on Tuesday and was told she was in the midst of a raging temperature. Quite why they didn’t call me immediately I don’t know, but it was obvious from just looking at her, she was ill. Not that I’m having a go, after all it was my own fault as she’d complained she didn’t feel good that morning. But it was my last day at work and I needed it, plus I thought she was just trying to find a way to go with P and I to the vets. So mean old mommy that I am, I made her go to school.

Once in the car, my poor pale girl immediately said she felt sick.
(Huh? As nice as I often try to be, can’t these kids remember that I don’t DO sick! And woe betide anyone who’s sick in my new car!!) But we were in a line of traffic. On a busy road. And my car doesn’t have enough crap in it yet to improvise. I did the only thing I could, I told her to be sick in her hat. Except then I remembered her hat’s only three weeks old, so I told her to grab S’s.

I have no idea if S argued about this, as I had turned the music up as loud as I could (to drown out any sound) and opened all the windows.

I dread to think how my children will remember their childhood.

And then there’s my brother. And what a useless little sod he is, which he’s always been, but now he’s useless AND getting old and grumpy. I don’t think I can even be bothered to explain, and anyway I’m sure all of you have people like this in your family. What’s truly frightening is, P gets more like him every day!

Slowing down

2006-12-14T17:39:00.000Z

I’ve been on good form of late. And last night I had the best night’s sleep I’ve experienced for a long time. Not sure why, in fact, if you take everything into account at the moment, I should be having a terrible time!

We’re almost through all the activity recitals/shows, and I have a wonderful video clip of S at her Christmas nativity – but I recorded it at 90* and I can’t figure out how to turn the damn clip (also can’t find a degree button on this keyboard!!)

The boys were great at their tap & modern dancing, and R’s been asked to join a higher group. He jumped at the chance, even after hearing there were no other boys in that class. P, of course, darn near wet himself when he heard, but R told him to wait four years and then see if he found it as funny. J still adores her ballet and danced beautifully, though I can’t quite claim the same for S, who I think only does it because J thinks everyone should love doing it!

Fencing is being given up (phew!) because they changed the night it’s held, and R isn’t giving up tap for anything. Down side is, the day after R decided the fencing had to go, he was asked to join the other tap group and he isn’t giving up the original, so tap twice a week for him now.

We’re also wondering about R's guitar lessons. He’s been attending for 15months now, and can’t yet perform an entire song. Not being musically inclined myself, I have no idea whether this is normal, but it all seems a tad slow to me!

Other ~~stresses~~ news include my parents being back from RSA. On their first day back I managed to have words with my mom. She wanted the boys to do golf over the holidays, but they only have two weeks, and seeing as Christmas is also happening, I wasn’t in the mood. She promised to do all the running around, but I’ve kind of heard that one before, and I stuck to my guns. Would you believe I was then subjected to a lecture about how my kids will probably go off the rails when they’re teenagers, because they don’t have enough interests?! Bloody hell, more likely they’ll go off the rails because they don’t know how to amuse themselves for five flippin’ minutes! But I didn’t say that, just said I’d think about it, and have kept very quiet since. I haven’t actually seen a lot of them, and I expect they’ll be off again in January, so if I just hold my breath….

My other big stress is Dingbat. We’ve had to adapt his cage, as he keeps falling off his perches. But he also won’t sit where he can’t see what’s going on, so we’ve removed the bottom of his cage and he’s now on the lounge floor with one perch about an inch up. I also had to get rid of his feeding bowls and replace them with upturned jar lids on the floor, as he kept falling in them. The seeds weren’t so bad, but the daft bird nearly drowned himself in his water the other night, and soggy birds look very pitiful.

Not that he doesn’t look pitiful all of the time now. He can’t even walk without falling over, but he is loving the constant attention as P carries him around and hand feeds him. Unfortunately P has to go to school, and I have to go to work, so when we get home we all rush in desperate to see if he’s still with us.

I know the right thing to do would be to call the vet out, but Dingbat’s so skinny I can’t bear the thought of someone sticking a needle in him. And what if it was like Ryker? Knowing what we were doing and obviously fighting it. I can’t do it. And I know that’s selfish, but I still can’t do it.

On a cheerier note, work’s closing down for two weeks. The boss is off on holiday and knows the men would slack off, so figures it’s easier just to given everyone the time off. Trouble is it doesn’t really suit me with it being year end, and though the thought of two weeks of nothing is nice, realistically I’d have to work twice as hard in January if I allow myself the time. Still, I’ll probably get it all done if I work a couple of full-time days, so it will be a break.

The boss doing well by the way, after his heart attack. In fact taking a step back from things definitely seems to be agreeing with him, and he seems on better form than ever to me!

The BH is also off over Christmas, as he’s in education and they close down too. When I think back at Christmases past, I can’t believe how lucky we are. I recall being thrilled when the boss let us go at midday on Christmas Eve. If I had to do that now the kids wouldn’t get a Christmas, I need time!

I am a bit pissed off though, my food mixer’s old and crappy and keeps dropping ‘bits’ into things I mix, which doesn’t fit into the hopes I had for lots of baking. Also doesn’t help that Amazon have cancelled my Christmas present, as I won’t be able to do any baking before New Year. Though if I wasn’t so tight I could go out and buy myself a mixer right now. But I am tight (err, due to being broke) and I’ll wait for the sales and sleep a little better at night.

Talking of sleeping, mine’s become almost normal. I’m remembering quite a few dreams now, enjoying them even! And the one’s I’m not remembering I’m not sorry about as the BH says I still scream and shout in my sleep. Mostly at the kids apparently.

Anyway, I should go get ready. We’re off into town, even being daring and taking all the kids. It’s ‘La fêté dé noué’ tonight (not just tonight, but it’s the parade tonight) and we’re taking the girls for the first time. Should be good. Shame it won’t be tomorrow morning, when I try and wake them for school!

Just call me evil! tired.

2006-12-08T22:03:00.000Z

Tonight I made my daughters cry. Sob actually. Uncontrollably. Of course I’m making it up to them now, by letting them stay up late and watching Santa Clause together. The first one, I didn’t like the second so much.

Anyway I’m on a quick break (I need them, I can only take so much ‘together time’ with two little girls who have incessant questions and comments about everything they see).

I’m also home alone, as the BH is out at some boozy Christmas party, he gets all the good events. And I’ve had a busy day. The girls finished at 12, and I had to belt home from work in the nick of time, to let seven mothers and their numerous offspring (10, once I'd thought of it, I had to count it up, I'm like that) into the house for my impromptu birthday party!

It went really well, with only a couple of fights and breakages. Oh and the BH called in the middle of it, to say his car (my car, the old one, his is STILL at the mechanics) wouldn’t start, and the boys needed picking up. This didn’t cause too much bother as it was late and the traffic had died, and I had plenty of sitters for the girls at hand.

But I’m getting sidetracked, this was about me making the girls cry, and my time is fast running out!

As you can guess I’m tired, and I suggested the girls go to bed early (at 6) and that they could watch a video in their room. Thankfully they’re easy to please, and together we decided upon a video for them to watch. The Bear won out, being the girls hadn’t yet seen it, and neither had I. Not that I would have guessed their reaction, even if I had seen it. And I know that, because I ended up watching it with them. As usual, we missed the begining of the film as the girls don't have the patience to wait for the video to rewind, but that was okay, as it didn't seem too lacking for it. The bear cub was cute, and the girls giggled as he played. The big bear scared them at first, but soon they liked him too. J was hissing at the hunters as soon as she saw their guns. Then a bear got shot, and the tears began. As the movie went on, the tears got worse.

It has destroyed them! They wouldn’t let me turn it off, no matter how load their sobs were. But I figured it had to have a happy ending, as it is a kids movie, and so let it play with each of them tucked in my arms.

A ‘sort of’ happy ending came, with the bears alive and happy, but J could figure the bears might face the same problems the following year, and so wouldn’t accept the ending was happy.

I tried to think of everything I could, like pointing out the stunt credits and explaining none of it was real. But then I got into a mess as J asked if people were never really that mean. I got out of it, and dug myself a bigger hole, by explaining that in real life bears are dangerous, and whilst some people are unnecessarily cruel, if we didn’t live in a nice safe place, we might be glad that hunters killed bears. That just made her cry more.

(My break ended an hour or so ago, when J came to find me. They’re now both tucked up.)

So anyway, around in circles I went trying to calm my little darlings, all the time trying to bring them around to the ides of going to sleep.

Fat chance.

By now, J’s mind had started thinking about what dying means. She quickly decided she had lots of time, but her lip started quivering at the thought that one day I will die. In fact her words were:

‘I’d really miss you, Mommy, but I’ll definitely cry loads when Dingbat dies!’

And talking of Dingbat, that damn bird is still with us. And I say ‘damn’ as a term of endearment, as I too will mourn him. Who’d have thought he’d last this long? I think the vet gave him two weeks, mid-way through last summer. But things are bad now, his original growth has shrank, but there are others. And he falls of his perch sometimes, and can’t get onto his feet without my help. Or maybe that’s just his way of getting some attention, because he adores attention at the moment. Only from me mind. Likes me to stroke and clean his feathers for him. Poor thing he is a mess. A few people have suggested I put him down, but I can’t. One too many of those already, and Dingbat shook for two days after I’d taken him last summer. He really hates travelling, and gets totally freaked when people hold his wings, just being handled like that would kill him. And I don’t want his last minutes to be painful and scary.

Geeze I get sidetracked! Back to S & J and their new found fretting. Death. So I read them a story from our Book of Creation Stories, The Tortoises Wish, I think it’s called. Considering how many times I read it to R, I should know, but I’m not sure and am too lazy to get off my butt and go check. Anyway, it’s a short, sweet story, explaining why everything has to die. And it did stop the girls crying.

Next came the whining. And did I have the energy to refuse? Another video, please Mom.

That's how we came to be watching Santa Clause, definitely a good diversion. Except apparently, P says there isn’t a real Santa. Umm, I told J to tell him ‘If you don’t believe, you don’t receive!’

So then she asked why I don’t believe.

I could go on, on, and on. Wish kids came with a pause button.

Now it’s ten o’clock and I meant to have a bath, and I think I shall.

Goodnight, sleep tight.

…here I am again.

2006-12-05T19:51:00.000Z

(The question is, will I manage to actually finish writing a post and post it?)

I thought, once I got Nano out the way, I’d have some time and be inspired to entertain you with witty moments about my life (ha, as if!), but I’m only just catching up with all the things I should have done weeks ago. And as much as I enjoy Nano, I’m very glad it’s over. I also never got around to posting an exert, but I shall, when I get around to editing it, in 2008 or thereabouts.

Life here is full of the usual rush. My new car was registered on Friday, but not without incident (would it be *my* life, if it had?!), the insurance wasn’t right and so I had lots of running backwards and forwards to get it sorted – which wouldn’t have been so bad, if Fridays wasn’t the busiest day at work. But never mind, I did it, and I have a ~~new car~~ mercedes!

Things at work have been a tad mixed up too, as my boss had a heart attack a couple of weeks ago. Won’t get into the drama of it, but for my part trying to persuade airlines to let a man travel without a passport is a no-goer, even after you’ve begged, pleaded, flirted, and explained they let him in to the UK by air-ambulance, and he didn’t have his flippin’ passport then! But again, never mind, and just call me wonder woman as I got it sorted in the nick of time.

The Christmas activities have begun, but you probably know that, and are facing your own mountain to climb. So far it’s just been a bazaar, but blimey it was enough! They told us to give the children in the infant classes £4 each and a carrier bag with their name on, so I did. But when they price most things at 20p, even a five year old can purchase a heap of stuff. I had thought that at least only having one bag would slow J, but no, they just gave her another, and another.

Wouldn’t have been so bad, if I hadn’t of been taking two other kids home with me. One look at Jack and I groaned, then I told him he could only bring what he could carry. Unfortunately that meant waiting until his teacher managed to load each hand and underarm up, which slowed us considerably. But hey-ho, we have a pile of crap to donate back to them next year!

Jumping subjects completely, I meant to tell you about my discovery last week that S can look angelic. She might often look sweet, but angelic isn’t a word I would often put in a sentence when referring to her (except if followed by 'nightmare').

Here’s why:

(the pictures were taken 10 days apart)

I straightened her hair and was amazed to see what an adorable looking little madam I have. It’s not that she isn’t adorable, in her own way, just that she looks scrumptiously adorable with straight hair. At least I think so. The downside of which is, I want to straighten her hair all the time! Which I know I can’t do, and have only done twice. To date.

Of course J is most pissed off (my words, not hers), as she’s always begging to have her hair straightened, but I think she looks cuter with her curls, so she doesn’t get it often. Plus her hair is thicker, and it takes forever. She wasn’t amused when I did their hair for a Christmas party this weekend (I forgot about this when I mentioned the bazaar was the only Christmas thing we'd done, cripes that's scary! What else am I forgetting? Ha! It's my birthday on Saturday, I forgot about that too. Bugger, another year older. Oops, back to the point)

Here’s J last week with straight hair. The curls are nicer, don’t you think?

Oh, and as you can see, her face has healed wonderfully :o)

Aren’t we doing well?!

2006-11-19T11:11:00.000Z

Another quickie post (what’s new?) just to say well done to my Nano buddies! Some of you are so far ahead, I’m left wondering whether you people sleep.

For my part, I’m typing at every opportunity, which isn’t as often as I’d like. But that’s okay, because November is fast turning into my favourite month of the year, and I think it’s down to the demand verses time available.

And I really like this book I’m writing! Last year’s was kind of wishy-washy, but I like the characters more this year and I think it shows. I might even put an exert up before the end of the month (and some of you know how I don’t share, lol!)

Other news includes: staring at my car. Still can’t drive it, but the registration test is booked for the 1st December (oh so fitting!!), and my mother’s Merc is near identical and as I’m still driving that, it’s no great shakes. The BH’s car is still not fixed, which isn’t surprising, because it seems everything the BH and I try to do takes months longer than it would for anyone else.

And life is almost quiet, as my parents are in the Southern hemisphere at the moment. Does that sound awful? I don’t mean it to, it’s just the pressure is off.

I suppose I should also mention J, my eldest daughter. Those who have read me for a while, will know J. She’s the accident prone one – any accident another child could have, J will do with more style! Her latest feat of misadventure involves the school playground, and running too fast before tripping over her feet. This is the result:

To be honest, though it looks bad, I’m not concerned – unlike the other mothers, who were horrified! And the school was too, it happened on Wednesday, and they haven’t let her out to play with the other kids since! They were full of apologies that such a thing could happen, and every teacher I pass tells me how brave she is, and asks after her – but honestly, it’s a scrape, and when you take into account J’s history, I'm surprised it doesn't happen more often.

And the upside was, the following day I took her to the hospital (her face swelled up to the point where she couldn’t open her eye, and I began to worry a little), and I met a dishy doctor called Grant. As it’s not often I meet a man I think ‘Corrrrrr!’ about, I’m mentioning him here! Apologies to the BH, who at least knows there isn’t a man out there with a bum as fabulous as his ;o)

Oh and lastly, I’ve been offered money. It seems someone wants to advertise on this page – have any of you every received emails offering you an annual upfront payment for such a thing? I was surprised to say the least, and I haven’t yet responded. I have taken a peek about, trying to see if it’s some sort of reverse scam, but I can’t find anything. Guess it’s a huge compliment, I think.

Right well, I’m afraid I must push off and type, my heroine is about to meet the hero’s girlfriend, and I mustn’t keep them waiting.

48 Hours Later

2006-11-03T18:00:00.000Z

We’re home! I’m cold, tired, and have just remembered the dog ate my slippers and I should have bought some more.

It was a whirlwind trip, with barely a minute to think, but it all went surprisingly well, though I could mention how the plane was late arriving, how the taxi was also late, how long we had to spend at the dealership, and about how J dropped a cup of hot chocolate all down herself whilst there, how all these things combined meant we didn’t set off driving until after six in the evening which in turn meant we were three hours later than predicted getting to the hotel – but instead I’ll focus on the swimming pools both hotels had, and how the children adored swimming before breakfast and dinner, how well behaved they were, how much shopping I did, and how great my new car is!

And my car is great. Not that I’ve really had time to look at it properly (haven’t even found the cd player yet – seriously – apparently it’s somewhere in the boot!) Definitely a great buy, another car dealer even said as much when we got chatting and I said why we were in England, and the BH said it was a smooth ride (which is something he’s always complained about in my old one). Having said that, motorway drivers are insane. I swear they don’t understand what breaking distance is, and it’s safe to say I’ve added a few grey hairs to my collection.

We also just missed an accident (by seconds!) which is still on my mind. A motorcyclist was hit by a car and thrown off of the road. I’ve no idea if he survived, but it didn’t look like his bike did, and I can’t think of a way to find out as I don’t really know where we were when it happened. I just said a silent prayer as we were waved passed by the drivers who had stopped. Poor chap.

And England is cold! And I’m still cold even though it was 9 degrees warmed at home when we arrived. I think it must seep into your bones.

My Nano count is crap. Only got started today on the boat home. Thought I would carry on this afternoon, but I fell asleep on the couch after I’d had a hot bath. And now I’m doing this. A quickie post, before the kids realise it’s late and they haven’t been fed yet.

But I do want to tell you about something P said when in one of the huge shops. Where we live it’s a sheltered place with not too many people, and combined with P’s extremely limited interest with the world at large, he can come out with some crackers.

A woman wearing a burka walked passed him pushing a trolley, and P stopped dead in his tracks and watched her before turning to R and saying (in much too loud-a-voice), “R, that’s the woman who had her picture in the paper the other day!” R promptly grabbed him and hurried out the aisle!

And something really good has come out of this quickie jaunt. We like living here. We all said it at different times, for different reasons, but we’ve come home and all agree our island is unique and beautiful. And the BH and I no longer want to leave. Still can’t afford the place, and we still have many, many gripes I could bore you with, but home is where the heart is, and this little island has our hearts – not that I didn’t know this before, I did, but the difference is, now we're glad of it.

And, we’re off!

2006-11-01T05:44:00.000Z

Nano starts today! That was my first thought.

Shortly followed by, shit, I’ve got to drive on a motorway, in the dark.

Wish it was the writing I was starting. But no, mustn’t get started right now, as I only have half an hour before I have to leave to get the dog to the kennels.

The woman who runs the kennels is very strict; drop off and pick up is only allowed between 7 and 7:30am, then again between 5 and 6 pm. Thinking if she can control me so well, she should work wonders on the dog!

BTW, thank you for all your kind thoughts. I know I don’t have to do Nano, but I SO want to. I don’t have time for writing anymore, or much of an inclination, but I’ve been waiting to do this again for nearly a year, and I won’t give up before I’ve even began.

But I am a lot better. Not because I took a break, but because I’ve been going so fast, I’ve caught up a bit. And on Monday I did slow down – when I got ill. Totally expected, as I ALWAYS get ill before I travel. Thankfully, by yesterday I was feeling better, and I’ve just taken some flu remedy, so should be okay for today.

This business about no liquids on planes, is a pain in the arse. Even lipsticks are banned. Sincerely hope I’ve read the info pages right, and we’re allowed toothpaste and deodorant in our main luggage. If I’m wrong, I’m going to look like an idiot at the airport when I have to repack our bag.

The kids should be up soon. They’re so excited I’m amazed they slept at all! And my Uncle called last night, wanting to see us today. Felt awful explaining we’re on such a tight schedule we can’t stop for afternoon tea. But I’m also thinking we have to make more of an effort to take the children away more often, and maybe next summer we could drive up England. Especially now we’ll have a car that’s suitable for such an adventure.

Suppose I should go and get dressed and get this show on the road.

Oh, and all those taking part in Nano, please let me know what name you’re registered under so I can add you as a buddy (I'm on as Jona), and get depressed that you started so well. Unlike me.

This isn’t working

2006-10-23T18:11:00.000Z

You’ll have to forgive me, this isn’t really a post for you, but more a note to myself in the hope things will seem less muddled.

It’s the meds. I think. Of course it could just be that I’m reaching middle age, but surely the slipping into uselessness can’t be this sudden?

Everything’s going wrong, and I can’t keep up. The worst is I’m making mistakes at work. I hate that. And the boss does too. I’m even thinking I should offer my resignation, which if we didn’t need the money I would be sorely tempted to do.

A few weeks ago a RL friend said she reckoned my problem wasn’t depression or anxiety, but that I’m too bright for the life I lead. What a bloody joke! The life I lead is in chaos, and if I was so clever I’d surely be able to manage it all?!

The BH reckons I’m being hard on myself, and reminded me that at the end of the school holidays, I was feeling better. But then real life started again, along with fourteen activities to remember each week, the loan we’ve committed ourselves to which has brought endless research on cars, insurance, air & ferry fares, kennels, quotes for flooring, sofa samples, LCD v’s plasma debates, and gardeners who piss me off no end (I might explain that later). Not to mention it’s nearly November and I’m in the midst of Christmas shopping (which I’m doing very well with! Yippee, one thing I can do right), and planning my Nanowrite (I think I may have over-planned as I’ve gone off all my ideas). Then there’s the kids. Don’t the teachers ever get sick of homework? I surely do! Though twenty minutes of reading each night probably wouldn’t be so bad, if it didn’t have to be out-loud, and if I didn’t have four kids. And why don’t they make sure that the kids can understand it? I don’t have time to work out what questions mean when they’re based on the class work, and I wasn’t in the bloody class! Please write another letter, mom! And even when they’re at school I get a mountain of calls, forgotten this, forgotten that, please bring it in. Oh and mustn’t forget all the other school bits. Please return the data sheets, photo choices, dental check-up permission slips, and Romanian shoe boxes by such and such a date. Don’t forget to fill in the activities sheets for the boys for next summer (right NOW?!), and comments are expected on the interim reports. Then there’re those awful Christmas cards they let the girls make and bully us into buying, which when I’m paying £6.00 for 12, I am forced to inflict upon our friends. There’s also a bulb planting exercise (must remember to drum up some sponsorship and try to persuade the BH to take part instead of me), parent teacher meetings coming out my arse, Christmas fetes to note and donate for, and an ever growing list of nativity plays and carol services which start as soon as December strikes.

And then there’s my friends. Why is everyone moving house?! I helped one by watching her children, but a closer friend noticed and commented that I do too much for the other. So now the closer friend is moving, and I can hardly turn my back. At least I like her kids, but I can’t believe I had forgotten how two-year-olds have the attention span of goldfish!

I haven’t even mentioned the dog yet. He’s ruined his beautiful black nose, he scraped it along the floor and now it’s got a pink tip. And he’s got an ear infection, bloody Labradors and their ear infections! Seems like Kobi will outdo all my previous Labs though, as none had one this bad (and the damn dog’s only seven months old – plenty more years to improve upon his record!!)

Arrrggghhhhh I can’t even sit here and type this! Actually I don’t shout or even murmur Arrrggghhhhh in real life, I don’t have the energy. In and out the room they come – where’s S? J’s not helping! The dog’s in the lounge. I forgot my homework book. I need help with my spelling sentences. P won’t get me my treat. Mom, you didn’t buy ham…

This is my life. At least I smiled this morning after the radio DJ pointed out ‘Relish your dislike of Mondays, as when they stop coming around, it means you’re dead.’

But what was the point of all this again? The meds aren’t working. I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning, and at least before I started taking the meds I couldn’t sleep and therefore had the time to keep the house a little bit tidy. Now it’s a smelly tip. Smelly because the damn dog peed on the floor at lunchtime today, after getting over excited when I was kicking a ball around for him (umm, should I admit I didn’t have time to walk him today?) But at least he loves me. It’s the darndest thing, but this dog does make me feel loved. Oh I know the kids and BH love me, most of the time, but it feels nice that the dog adores me so. I’m sure Ryker did too, but I guess he had the maturity to stay at the back of things. Unlike Kobi. I do so miss Ryker’s calmness.

Any calmness really. My life is such a mess at the moment, I’m spinning so fast I feel ill - literally, and all the time. Can’t even eat chocolate as I feel so nauseous.

But now I’m feeling guilty. As I always do when I have a grumble like this. I know I’m lucky. Four beautiful, bright children; a husband who loves (and fancies ;o)) me; a safe, warm roof over our heads, and food on the table . I know I shouldn’t want for anything, and I know I wouldn’t really want to swap it for the nothingness I dream of. It’s just…

Hard sometimes.

Hard a lot, lately.

And I’m so damn tired.

Much ado

2006-10-08T17:18:00.000Z

I’m not going to apologise this time. Sounds hollow when you’ve said it a dozen times anyway. Life is busy, and mostly good.

The ‘mostly’ is due to the frantic pace my life presently seems to run at. Surprisingly I am enjoying all the activity, whilst I’m doing it, but when I stop the exhaustion sets in and I know I could really do with a break.

A lot of my time is taken up with work as the new business is doing well, and as such it’s quickly become another fully-fledged job. Then there’s all the running around after the kids, which should be limited to a maximum of 12 activities a week (3 for each of them), but we decided R should improve his swimming, P has added tennis to his schedule, and has also just talked me into letting him join the school choir group.

But I have taken to giving myself a small treat! On Thursdays I meet with several mothers from school. Luckily the attendance is based upon availability, as so far I’ve only managed it once.

Other good news includes us going into debt. Not a state I’m generally comfortable with, but right now I’m sick of living in a pigsty and never having enough money to put it right, so what the hell? We’ve borrowed a pile of cash and are busy deciding what sofa would suit us, and whether to get a hard floor through the lounge and hall. And I bought a car this week. It felt very impetuous considering I did it over the phone, sight unseen, but I bought my last car from an auction in Japan, sight unseen also, and that worked out well.

And the car brings a treat too! We’ve got to go and get it, as it’s presently in England. Birmingham to be exact – though if you’re anything like me, you’ll have to google to know where that is. And if you bother to look, you’ll see it’s nowhere near our closest English port. And being that it’s only the closest English ports that have ships travelling here, it means I’ve got a lot of driving to do with a full car!

Yes, we’re going to be daft enough to take the tribe with us. I had planned to travel alone, but when we told the kids I was off, J got all melancholy and reminded us her and S have never left the island, which at five is kind of sad as it means she’s never been further than five miles from where she was born.

So come half term, we’re off for a whole forty-eight hours. Ideally it would have been longer, but the only cheap flights we could get were a month in advance and the Wednesday of half term was the first day they were available. Of course we could have stayed beyond the Friday, but guess what? No fast boats home after the Friday morning, and twelve hours on a slow boat with my lot, was out of the question!

There has been some nuisance with all this though. The powers that be, won’t allow me to drive my new car until it’s locally registered, and that comes with a six week waiting list, which you can’t book until you can provide papers. So I get my car, drive like a madman, then park my car for six weeks. Yep, I’m thrilled. Guess what else? You can only get you’re no claims discount for insurance on one car. I only want one, but I’ll have to keep two because I can’t do without a car for six weeks! Which will also mean I can’t sell my present car to help fund the new one just yet either. Oh ain’t life fun?! Like a board game, with loaded dice.

Anyway back to pleasant things, the kids are excited! I know, I know. We shouldn’t have told them until ten minutes before we were leaving! If I’m getting driven mad now, can you imagine the basket case I’ll be by then?! And I don’t even think it’s going to be that exciting for them, as we’re planning it like a military operation!

1pm arrive in England, take taxi to dealership an hour away, sort paperwork, latest leaving time must be 2:30, drive 2 hours to Basingstoke and visit supermarket where they sell cheap clothes, very quick visit as we have another hour and a half’s driving to do before arriving in Southampton to get dinner (and let the kids swim in the posh hotel’s pool!). Up early be at shopping mall as it opens, as we’ve got to kit out the kids for the next year and leave by 3:30 to drive to Weymouth, (where our next posh hotel has another indoor pool!) Up early again as we have to check in for the boat by 8am.

Now would that sound exciting if you were between four and twelve years of age? I don’t think it does, but then I was spoilt rotten and holidayed a couple of times a year. Bless my lot, they’re beside themselves with joy. So much so, I’m feeling very guilty. And I hate feeling like this, as I know things like holidays shouldn’t matter. But one joyful decision – to blow the budget and stay in posh hotels – was directly because of their joy. I mean, heck, all that shopping – they’re in for a nasty surprise! And then we’ve got to get the shopping home. Mostly on their laps, but we’ll tell them about that as it happens. Guess two of them will just be thrilled to not be getting hand me downs for the next year! And I’m looking forward to the shopping. Sick of never going into town because I can’t afford the stuff! That’s definitely one side of living on an island I could do without. Roll on the bulk buy shops! Here I come!!

Oh, and I guess I should mention my new car. By ‘new’ I don’t mean new, it’s secondhand, or maybe third, but it’s NEW to me. And remember how I’ve complained I’m sick of driving huge slug-mobiles? Well it’s not a giant slug! Though it is a giant. And remember how I don’t like cars with a long nose? Well, unfortunately it does have one of those (like my own, according to my eldest!! Cheeky bugger) And remember how I like seven seaters, which also has boot space for the dog? Well it’s a good thing the dog hates travelling in the car. Because he can’t fit in (that’s not strictly true, unless the BH is with us).

So what have I bought? Well, upon discovering I am a better person when driving my mother’s car, I figured I’d buy one of them!

I’M GETTING A MERCEDES!

Strange that for years I’ve hated the things, complaining that they’re like a tardis in reverse – huge on the outside, no room on the inside. But whilst driving my mother’s, I’ve found it isn’t so bad with a bit of planning, and words to remind the kids to take all their ~~crap~~ stuff with them when they get out.

And mostly importantly, I’m a calmer person when driving it, and that’s priceless. To me.

Thankfully Mercedes’ cars go on forever, so at least it sounds reasonable when I say we’re going into debt for eight years, but the car can be counted on for the next decade. Maybe more!

It’s a tad older than my mother’s, but it has occurred to me if it’s not my ‘thing’ I could sell it locally next year and make a profit. So smiles whatever. I hope.

Except...I've just realised this is all happening at the begining of Novemeber, and Nano starts November 1st...you know what they say, where there's a will, there's a way!

The Monday Blues

2006-10-02T12:55:00.000Z

Since I began working, I’ve liked Mondays. After a weekend of chaos it’s nice to go to my quiet little office and lose myself in things that make sense.

But not today. Today has been the Monday from hell!

It started last night, with projectile vomiting, care of P. Thankfully, my resident Spider Slayer (also known as the BH), can cope with sick. Unlike me.

But it meant P wasn’t going to school today, which in turn meant I couldn’t go to work.

That didn’t deem so bad last night, as I’m behind with loads of stuff, and I decided to look upon the day as a break from the norm (which is always good!)

Unfortunately a ravenous mosquito decided to sleep with me. Stupid bug obviously hasn’t been told us smokers aren’t supposed to get eaten alive!

But that wasn’t the worst. The worst was my own stupidity. Though I’m being harsh upon myself, as in all fairness I was still half asleep when I attempted to put my new contact lenses in. How the heck was I to know I’d picked up the wrong bottle of solution to rinse my lenses in? Bloody knew when the peroxide hit my eye! Still sore, and still feeling sorry for myself.

Bloody children! Who’d have them?!!

2006-09-25T16:08:00.000Z

You know I sat here at lunchtime today thinking that my next post should be about how I’m no longer so… nuts/volatile/weepy/depressed/stressed/whatever, take your pick.

Of course this is all down to the wonderful drugs and I have no doubt I’d (still?) be a raving loony without them.

But that was lunchtime. And now I’m so cross, I’m not even speaking to two of my children, other than to say there’s no TV tonight. And believe me, that’s being bloody generous.

I cannot believe what they did to me!

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, popping into a local school supply shop after school, to buy R a new bag. The place is quaint and run by a pair of little old ladies, which is probably why it’s always so quiet. I mean quiet due to the lack of noise, not lack of custom. In fact it was busy, and I bumped into a couple of mothers I knew.

But I’m getting ahead of myself and should start at the beginning. On the way back from school S fell asleep in the boot of the car (that isn’t as bad as it sounds as there are two seats in the boot), P was also in the boot and I asked him to wait in the car to keep an eye on S whilst we popped into the shop.

He wouldn’t. Whined like a big girls blouse, but I had parked boot in and couldn’t open it to let him out easily. Nevertheless after some tense sighs I buckled, and agreed he could get out, so long as he climbed over the back seat.

He didn’t do that either. He ignored me and opened the boot into a thorny hedge.

But none of this is why I’m mad at him. Oh no, his pièce de résistance came when he got fed up with J. Instead of just standing still and behaving in a civilised manner, they began pushing and shoving each other.

I didn’t even notice until the display went over.

There must have been at least two hundred pairs of trousers neatly hung on the circular stand, which now rolled across the floor spewing it’s load around the shop.

And it didn’t help that J started screaming indignantly that it was P’s fault for pushing her. But then P doesn’t like to be outdone, so everyone got to witness his loudly broadcast complaint that she had started it.

I really didn’t care and just pointed to the door. Strange that for once I didn’t even have to issue the command!

But it was bloody humiliating having to pick up all those trousers. And I couldn’t work out how the sizes had once hung. The staff were nice enough, considering, and the only reprimand we received were looks of disapproval.

But I’m still fizzing. Didn’t help that P also slammed the boot on my head when we got home either. Especially as it’s still sore from when J did it last week.

Bloody hell these kids are bad for my health!

Shhhh, I'm hiding!

2006-09-22T16:26:00.000Z

Turns out there’s one sure-fire way to get me to post, give me your kids to baby-sit!

I must be a terrible person, because they’re great kids. I think it’s just mixed with my four, plus my Friday friend’s three, it just all gets too exciting for them. But at least there’s a good reason (their parents are moving house), and I shall be reminding myself of that tomorrow, when I’m due to have them again.

So anyway, I’m hiding. Getting my nicotine and caffeine fix, whilst hoping no one falls off anything or kills another – and that’s not really very funny, as I’ve already rescued my S from inside a rolled blanket as others jumped on her!

Darn it all. I can hear screaming. I know I should go check, but so long as they’re making noise, then they must be alright, right?!

And geeze it’s been a long week. But quick, if that makes any sense! I’ve been working most days and when I’m not doing it for the money, my dad’s got some strange idea I must be bored and has me working on a couple of things for him too.

In fact I’m exhausted, and can’t believe we’re only two weeks into the term! So far I’ve forgotten about one parents evening, and can’t make another next Wednesday, and think I shall cry off a third next Friday. The teachers must think I’m useless. Which I sometimes am, but thanks to the drugs, I no longer care, Ha!

But I will give you something to smile at: I made a fool of myself today. I’m not driving my car at the moment, in fact I haven’t been for weeks as the BH is using mine because his is at the garage. So instead I’m driving one of my parent’s cars. A big Merc, like this:

Definitely a step up from my usual slug mobile, and yes people do treat you differently – in both good and bad ways!

Anyway, I rather like sauntering around in this thing and it drives so much better than mine, it really does make me a better, more serene person (regular readers will know, I hate driving and lose my temper regularly ;o)). I had to stop and get diesel today, and it’s not like I haven’t borrowed the thing before, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out where the petrol cap thingy button was. And so after standing on the forecourt looking like a bimbo with my butt in the air as I investigated under seats and the steering wheel for several minutes, I admitted defeat and went inside to request some assistance.

I got a good looking assistant too! All smiles and nodding understanding at the dozy housewife who obviously shouldn’t be driving a car she’s to dim to operate. Yes, I felt like a fool. But not nearly as much of a fool as I did when the assistant walked up and just pushed the petrol panel to reveal the cap!

Hmm, doesn’t seem right Mercs don’t have buttons on the inside, after all couldn’t someone just come along and siphon off my diesel?! And it takes a lot of diesel too!

Least that’s the attitude I’m sticking with.

Choices!

2006-09-12T05:36:00.000Z

I had to make a choice this morning, catch up with you, or write a post. In truth I don’t have time to write a proper post, but then neither do I have time to read more than one or two blogs. As you can see, I opted for assuring you I’m still here!

The kids went back to school yesterday, kids being plural as in ALL which means it was S’s first day at Big school, though I’m hard pushed to call it a day as they let the tiny ones out at 12:30 for the first week. Bloody nuisance actually as I’m behind at work and she didn’t used to leave nursery until 1, so this week is actually shorter than normal!

It all went swimmingly well with S. I sat with her for ten minutes and then walked away. She did claim that she cried for me later in the morning (she wanted a ‘mummy hug’), but she’s happy enough to go back today, so I’m not worried.

R also had his first day at his new school. Safe to say he was even more nervous than S! It started well; I walked him to the front gates and agreed where I should pick him up and mentioned I didn’t know what time I’d be with him. He really should have paid attention to that last comment.

Come 3 yesterday afternoon the heavens opened. And not just a little, we had the full thunder and lightening show. Not great timing at J comes out at 3:10, P at 3:20, and R at 3:30. Sounds great doesn’t it? And it would be, if the schools were all in one place. Instead it turned into my worst ever school run! The traffic simply stopped and what should have taken me ten minutes to get to P, instead took me 45 minutes. And then I had to get to R.

By the time I did, the poor lad had been stood in the rain (and thunder and lightening) for 40 minutes.

Now you would think a twelve year old would cope with this unexpected turn. Unfortunately not my twelve year old. He managed to keep himself together whilst he was stood there, imagining I had abandoned/forgotten about him, but the minute he got into the car he broke.

I felt wretched. And he couldn’t stop crying.

I found out later the day had gone really well, but of course after tormenting himself with his dark thoughts, all his fizz has gone and it took a couple of hours to return.

But all is well that ends well, and today he knows that however late I am, I’ll never forget I have a firstborn.

Anyways it’s time I get the house up for a new day (notice it’s the second day of school and I’m again getting up at 5:30. Not complaining mind, and at least my kitchen it tidy!) Hope to get back here later, I swear I want to, just don’t hold you breath.

Here I am, AGAIN!

2006-09-02T16:36:00.000Z

After my absence of late, I bet you’re wondering what has caused me to appear for the third time in three days (though I’m not prepared to put any money on that bet!), well a couple of things…

The first is my touch typing still sucks and I’ve been slipping into bad habits (my sanity is sometimes at stake through sheer frustration) and so I figured I should practice some, and this seem like one way to do it. Hope you don’t mind.

Another reason is, I didn’t want the previous post top of the page. My dad’s now doing great, and the hospital have now let him out and declared he’s getting old (at least in body, and between that and being so tall and broad, his body’s having a hard time keeping the blood getting around) they’ve also said he may require a pace-maker - in about three years time!

Well that definitely doesn’t sound too pessimistic and so I have completely stopped worrying about him, after all who knows where any of us will be in three years and there’s only so much energy I can afford to waste worrying about a future so distant!

I’m also going to tell you how clever Dave is (like we didn’t know!) He found me on Hot or Not – in no time at all! We managed to exchange notes, but discovered you have to pay to exchange messages. Bummer, as you all know how tight I am. (Umm I’m wondering how that last sentence sounds in anyone who speaks English but isn’t British. Then again, I’m not changing it, as you lot do know me, and recognise it can be nothing but innocent (that had better be what you’re thinking!!))

Other news includes finishing off the kids school shopping, hurrah for another year. Though I am starting to panic that there’s only a week of holidays left and then the chaos starts up again. Very nervous too as we’ve now arranged for activities after school on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays, with the remained crammed into Saturday mornings. On the one hand it’s nothing short of a maser-piece of schedule engineering, on the other dear heavens, what have I done??!! Running ten minutes behind will destroy everything! And then there’re the school runs. No more nursery now S is at big school with J, but now R is off in another direction and has to be there half an hour earlier than ever before. Guess we’ll just have to see how it works. Assuming it works at all…

And finally, the dog. Even thinking about the blasted beast makes me wince and rub my eyes. We managed to get hold of some Deter (like Forbid, but I couldn’t get that at all over here) but though the damn dog likes the tablets just fine and happily gobbles them down, he’s still gobbling down his poops. And socks. He’s very fond of socks. In fact the other night he was sick (it’s not unusual, and wouldn’t you be?) and revealed three socks! As if trying to get the children not to strew them about the place and lose them isn’t hard enough, now the damn dog has decided to clean up their act and eat the evidence. Of course his act isn’t so clean when it all comes up over our beige carpet, but I digress and you might be eating.

Anyhows, the dog is driving everyone nuts and the BH is starting to mutter and glare (never good!) and even I have to admit, I don’t think any of our previous mutts were this badly behaved. Kobi’s just so darned stupid. Even when we’re cross with him he’s too dumb to realise it and scoots around gleefully as if we’re paying him a compliment.

But I am trying. I’m even reading a dog training book – and that is a real reflection of my love for him as I am not a fan of these ‘how to control/improve/contain your dog/children/emotions/life/depression/etc. books’. Having said that, it’s surprisingly interesting stuff as I hadn’t previously thought about how a dog sees the world. Makes me wonder if Ryker realised he was a dog.

So these are my thoughts, along with ‘ Why the hell can’t I type quicker?’

Have a good weekend!

I should have known

2006-09-01T18:56:00.000Z

It’s never very clever to say things are going well (as I did in yesterday’s post), because as soon as you do, something goes wrong.

My dad got taken to hospital yesterday after having a dizzy spell we now know was due to low blood pressure, which is kind of ironic as he’s spent half his life on pills for high blood pressure. Luckily when it happened, he was lunching with a friend who happens to be a surgeon, and the doctor insisted upon calling an ambulance (I seriously doubt my father would have done). Anyway twenty four hours later they still won’t allow him home as they haven’t got a clue what’s going on with his body (though he’s told me they’re mightly impressed with how fit he is!)

My father’s 73. It’s not that old really, is it? I certainly can’t believe this is too serious. I just can’t, because he’s my dad and strong as an ox.

And I don’t think my mom and dad are too worried. At least I think not. Though I do have a slight doubt they’d tell me if they were. You see I heard a message on their answer-phone one day that leads me to wonder if they’d choose to tell me if it was otherwise. And I’d never ask, as I figure people tell you things as and when they choose to, and it’s none of my damn business until then. And even then, it’s only my business if they want it to be.

I think my family’s like that, we keep things from each other, and only speak our mind if asked. Can’t complain about it, as I’m just as guilty at what I’ve chosen not to tell them over the years.

But occasionally I worry about the things that may never get said. Honesties and secrets that will only come out when the present is long gone.

Last night as I was walking through the hall, there was a letter on the floor. I picked it up and was surprised to discover it was a letter my father had written to me twenty-five years ago. It kind of freaked me a bit that this thing happened to be lying on the floor on the very day he’s rushed into hospital, and so I hurried through the house demanding to know who had left it there, and where it had come from.

The girls had found it when rearranging the bookcase, tucked into my old hymn book.

I used to carry it everywhere. It being the only letter my father sent me whilst I was away at boarding school. Didn’t say much really, but it was gentle and full of love.

But it did strike me that although I could remember that love, it’s been a long time since I’ve thought about it. Or really felt it. Thoughout my teenage years my father and I spent quite a lot of time together, as he would visit me whilst he was on business trips and I was at school or living in London. I think I’d forgotten about those times. I think I’ve forgotten a lot of things.

To this day, he’s always there if I want or need anything. But I’m female and therefore not worthy of any great admiration. Or maybe I’m wrong about it being because I’m a girl, and maybe it’s just because I’m not like him, driven or a risk taker.

I remember him saying that. We were in Sloan Square going to get a coffee, when he commented that I’d never be rich because I didn’t have the balls to take risks.

I didn’t argue or defend myself, though I could have pointed out that maybe it’s because I’ve seen what happens when the risk goes against you and you lose everything.

But I have since told him I believe it was my fault he lost everything. Not that I did anything, I was only twelve after all! But I’ve always had this thought that I’m not meant to have money. I don’t mean in the sense of not being able to feed your family, we’ve always managed that (thank heavens) but I don’t think I’m supposed to have it easy. I wasn’t born to it and I don’t think fate wants me to have it.

My father laughed. Told me it was a ridiculous notion. But then, a lot of my thoughts and opinions are ridiculous to my father.

How come relationships get so confusing? How can they feel difficult when it’s with people we love? And when did they become like this?

I’ve just snorted to myself, because I can remember when mine and my father’s relationship took this road. When he lost all his money. Until then I was his princess. He continued to say so long after, but by then, they only felt like words. I think I disappointed him repeatedly, and it began right after with me adoring the little house we moved in to. I rather liked being brought home from boarding school too.

There are also things I’m miffed about. Why the hell is everything my brother does so bloody brilliant? Why is their relationship the exact opposite of mine and my dad’s with my dad seeking my brother’s approval? My brother’s never done much with his life. And it’s not like he makes any effort with my parents either. Not that I begrudge their relationship, though there's an irony with my brother swearing I’m always favoured over him.

That’s bloody rubbish by the way. Just ask the BH, as he’s always left scratching his head in wonderment at my father’s complete adoration of every minor thing my brother does and says too, or my mother, who also adores my brother, but raises an eyebrow at some of his antics.

But for all these words it’s not like I think he doesn’t love me, I know he does. And I think he knows how much I love him too. It’s just, I guess yesterday shook me a bit, and I’ve been filled with memories. And the trouble is, they are memories.

By the time I was pregnant with R, I remember asking my parents to come around so we could break our big news to them. Their first grandchild. But my dad wasn’t paying attention and after I finished telling them and my mom started with her congratulations, my dad asked what the fuss was about – we were only getting a puppy after all, which incidentally he didn’t really think was a great idea with our both working full time.

A part of me laughs at the memory. Another part of me feels hollow.

Yet again, I’ve written without direction. I don’t know where I’m going with this. Nowhere I guess. It’s just I love my dad, and I refuse to believe anything bad can happen to him. Yet. I am realising time’s moving on.

He’s always been this huge giant standing over me. Sometimes that feels like a wonderful protection, other times the shadow is so cold and dark I tremble.

He’s going to be fine. He has to be.

Here I am!

2006-08-31T13:59:00.000Z

So. I’ve been thinking. Do I really want to do this any more? I’ve been wondering about this for several months, as may be apparent from my lack of posts and poor attendance at your places. You see, time’s become a little short. Not that it wasn’t before, but there is always so much to do, and I want to do lots more too.

Anyways, that’s one of the things I’ve been mulling over. Along with getting another job, finishing my house-from-hell, sorting the garden, writing another book, doing another Open University course, and training the damn dog. And what I decided was: the house and garden aren’t going anywhere, I may not be able to get another job unless it fits perfectly into my life (as I’m not giving up my present ones as I love ‘em!!) the OU isn't an option until I have cash to spare (along with a greater direction) I’ll write the book in November when I do Nano Write, and the damn dog… well, at the moment he seems to be having more success training us!

And I’m feeling better. And I mean really better. I still get moments when I want to vanish into thin air, but they’re short, plus I don’t know many people who don’t feel like this sometimes. And I don't believe the others.

So life is good. Not exactly full of any great meaning or excitement, but who needs meaning and excitement when you’ve got a four year old who hugs her arms tight around your neck and tells you how much they love you every day?

And that cute little four year old is off to big school in ten days! In fact I know I must be happier again, as I’m getting a very occasional pang about it. It’s been twelve years since I had entire days to myself, no children demanding a treat/juice/lunch just as I answer the phone, or asking me to wipe their bottom as the doorbell rings, or begging for a wee the minute we park in town, or throwing a hissy fit whenever I’m in a hurry. Umm, wonder if they’ll conspire and make up for it at weekends? Actually I’ve noticed that the more time I spend away from the kids, the more these things eat at me when I’m with them. Though I’m NOT suggesting I’d cope better if I never left my little darlings sides! No. I just think that we all have a premium time in our lives for ~~coping with this crap~~ enjoying these times, and I’m past it.

And that makes me sad. Not that my little darlings are growing beyond their babyhoods (don't be silly!) just that I’m getting old. Which I already knew, but knowing something doesn’t mean you have to like it.

Earlier today I got invited to a girls night out, I mention this because it’s another reinforcement of my age. My friend Cass was doing the inviting, and it’s with a group of ladies whom I know a couple of. But one of them is still a party animal – though in fairness she wasn’t as a teenager as she was too busy being married, but since the husband left she’s been making up for lost time. I immediately asked if it was going to be a late one, and Cass laughed that she’d already told the others I wouldn’t accept.

But hang on a minute! Why the bloody hell not?! Those were my thoughts, just before imaging the noisy busy pub and club scene, along with standing at a taxi rank at two in the morning wishing I was wearing jeans instead of a stupid dress and heals, and then getting woken by a tribe of ~~monsters~~ little darlings too early the following morning.

So I said I’d think about it. And have now decided I think I’d rather stay in. Shit I’m getting old! Going out with Cass was always a blast in our younger days, but back then I wouldn’t have considered a book good company for the evening. AND I didn’t have the internet back then either, and I’m rather fond of that too! Umm, I’m sure I would have preferred the internet if it’d been around. Now I’m sounding old as well as feeling it, right?

Might be best if I drop this train of thought and get back to the post.

What was it about?

And that’s kind of the thing, I’m no longer writing posts about stuff. Days out and the like. Now I just waffle. And this has to stop. Along with a bit more dedication. Because I’ve decided I like you all, and this place, too much to fade away or delete. Not that I have any actual post written for today, this is just aother waffle, but hopefully one of the last!

And waffles aren’t so bad, some of you do them too (though maybe not as often ;o))

But I shall try to end this by hopefully providing you with a ~~groan and eye roll~~ giggle. I joined Hot or Not! I could provide a link to my picture and beg you all to vote me a ten (and thus make me feel less old!!) But I’m not going to as I realise there is a limit to our friendship. But I’m also in the Meet me section and figure those of you who know me well might be able to find me with some keywords – and if you do, and you’re on there too – match me!

Ten to the dozen

2006-08-24T19:43:00.000Z

That’d my mood by the way. Not enough time for anything! Having said that, how does ten to the dozen make any sense? Should mean you are slower than usual, surely? Umm, anyway back to my point (not that I really have one), I feel busy.

In truth things are going slow, not too many commitments or happenings, and yet I manage to fill the time to the point where I feel rushed. One of the things I’m doing is a touch typing course. Again. And bloody hell is it hard to break bad habits! What’s always floored me in the past is that my bad habits are a darn site quicker than trying to be good, and I run out of patience. This time is no exception. And this post is taking an eternity to write!

Then again I do get a thrill from the thought of eventually speeding beyond what I’ve ever been capable of… I just have to stick it out… aggghhh, it hurts!!!

Apart from that, my main pastime has been reading. I’ve been busy devouring three different series over the past two weeks (which I don’t recommend, as things can get confusing!), and I’m now down to two of one series, one of another, and twenty pages of the last (which I’m drawing out on purpose, and shall finish off after I’d had my bath tonight, ummm can’t wait!)

So I’ve turned into a crap blogger, ignoring everyone (not just you, but pesky family members too), so I can stick my nose in a book and dream. Can’t even claim it’s high-brow stuff either ;o)

Meanwhile the holiday’s move on. Wish they didn’t have to end. Wish I could get the damn ‘i’ key right too, such is life…

Will be back when I can type quicker and without so many errors (I’ve corrected them now!!)

The ups with the downs

2006-08-16T18:18:00.000Z

I woke up early today. Which may not sound too unusual, but it is, as for the past few days I’ve been going to bed so late, I can’t help but sleep until at least 7! But this morning I had a nightmare, and woke up early. In tears, and feeling wretched.

Many hours later, when I awoke the BH with a cup of tea and climbed back into bed for our cuddle, he asked what he’d done wrong (he knows 9 out of 10 of my nightmares are because he’s a cad in my dreams!). After telling him, instead of reassuring me with sweet words, he asked if his floozy had been good looking. Hmmph, he’s turning into a cad in life too!

Not all men are making me insecure though. My boss Tom, is fast turning into my personal gallant. When I started working for him I worried I wouldn’t be as good as his other secretaries (though maybe the fact they worked out the wages manually should have hinted they weren’t as hot as I’d worried). Tom’s often said I’m doing well, but this morning he made me feel great – without even saying anything especially nice! He’s starting something new, and instead of asking if I’m up to designing the company logo, sorting the paperwork to form the company, and creating a website, he simply told me what he was after. I know it sounds daft that I’m so pleased, but I often feel I have to persuade people of what I’m capable of, and because of the way he did it I know he has faith I can do anything! Except… I can’t get the domain name he wants, it’s gone already, ho-hum and fiddle-sticks but hardly my fault.

And seeing as I was busy at work for several hours this morning, that left the BH home alone with his boundless energy. I arrived home to find the office empty and a new wooden floor laid, wow I need to go out more often! Of course the kitchen was overflowing with office stuff, making lunch rather solitary as we each ate behind a box or two.

Unfortunately nothing got done this afternoon, as the weather is worse than ever. Did I mention our summer finished some weeks ago? Definitely feels like our seasons are arriving earlier this year, and that’s not me talking, that’s our Beech Tree already dropping its nuts. (Umm sounds almost dirty! Sorry, my mind, not yours I’m sure ;o))

Anyway back to the point in hand, guilt. The days are sweeping by and the children are sitting around too much, but as the BH says, the rain is washing the guilt away nicely.

Hopefully my tomatoes will ripen before Christmas arrives, which reminds me I must start thinking about presents – you know how time flies…!

Changing habits

2006-08-15T11:23:00.000Z

I think I’m at a better place. For me that is. As far as friends, children and responsibilities go, I’ve become a truly lazy mare.

I’m motivated to do next to nothing, and so I sit and read a lot of the time, which happens to be costing a fortune as our library doesn’t carry the books I want - but don’t ask what they are – I’m too embarrassed to admit anything more than there are plenty of Vikings and Highlanders involved!

Oh and Craiglist. Have you heard of it? Apparently very well known although I didn’t discover it until last week. Read ‘The Best of’ if you’re after a giggle or two, though I’ll warn, it is somewhat addictive!

So apart from reading, I’ve been up to… not a lot. R had his 12th birthday, but had a better offer elsewhere so spent it at a friends, though he did get to come home the following day and enjoy his birthday all over again.

And the BH is now on holiday. From work, not us. Being the opposite to me, he’s itching to get on with things, though I’m quickly managing to subdue his energy burst. He also shaved off his beard. Last time he dared to, I threw a hissy fit and refused to kiss him until it grew back. But that was over a decade ago, and this time I’m instead making the most of his clean shave. Whilst it lasts. Which I don’t think it will. The kids, bless their little hearts, didn’t even notice. And I have to admit it took me half an hour to work out what was different, but I was reading and the lighting was dim (that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!)

I was also supposed to see the doctor last week to get more happy pills. Unfortunately I didn’t want the kids in tow, and so waited so long, she’d gone on her hols and I couldn’t get an appointment. Instead I had to ask my regular Doctor (the dishy Dr. B) for a repeat prescription, which has led to a summons. I’m going on Friday and am geared up for a lecture, as I know, he knows, I know, he wouldn’t have been so quick to let me take them. Or maybe he’ll surprise me.

The bonus of this post, is that I got tagged by Daisy. Bonus, because I may not have posted otherwise (lucky you!). Only downside is it’s one that gives away more detail than I’d like, so instead of using my real names, I’m using previous ones I’ve used. Because yes, I’ve had a few, and though some of you may think you know how and why, I can guarantee there's more you don't know! Irritatingly my 'other' names haven’t made my answers any more amusing, ho-hum.

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet and current street name)

Cindy Vaux

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your mom's side, your favorite candy)

Shelly Snicker

3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your middle name)

Jmich

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)

Terracotta Dog

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)

Michelle Selaw

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mom's maiden name and first 3 letters of the town you grew up in.)

Carjo Hasto

7. Terrorist Name: (middle name spelled backwards, your mom's maiden name spelled backwards).

Ellehcim Reprah

8. SUPERHERO NAME: (your favorite color, favorite drink)

Terracotta Tea

And, as usual, you're ALL tagged ;o)

Don’t like the sound of this

2006-08-09T04:18:00.000Z

Okay this is a woman’s post, so would the men please leave?

Come on, I mean it men, GET OUT! After all, I only do this once or twice a year, so heed my words and come back another day. Please.

For those that are left, damn google and all the bloody information you can get at four thirty in the morning!

I woke up about an hour ago, in pain. You know the feeling, the sudden wonder of why you’re awake shortly followed by cramps letting you know you’ve got to get out of bed and do something about it.

Well I wouldn’t bloody mind, but seeing as it’s only twenty-one days since this last happened, I feel cheated! I like sex dammit, but not messy sex (in that sense!) and I’m supposed to be swimming tomorrow, which I know I could still do – if I was brave, but I’m not.

And this is the third time in four months this has happened, except…it isn’t FOUR months, is it?!

So, being that I’m getting a tad tired with this crappy body, and being that google can tell you anything at a drop of a hat, even at four-thirty in the bloody morning, I googled and guess what? I’m getting old!

This is scary shit, the page I found lists the symptoms of perimenopause – which I had never heard of, but apparently is the first phase of your body gearing up for the menopause. And guess what those symptoms are: shortening/lengthening of monthly cycle, sleeping problems, depression, and heart palpitations.

Sound familiar?! TOO BLOODY FAMILIAR!!

And that’s only the bloody start! In the long run I can also expect vaginal and bladder problems, loss of libido, body and skin changes (translating to I’m going to get fat around my middle while the skin gets thinner and sags) cholesterol problems which can lead to heart disease, with osteoporosis to possibly follow!

Oh joy. Isn’t it great being a grown up?

On the upside, it may mean I’m not as barmy as previously thought. Having said that, my doctor supposedly checked (however they do) for this last year and came back negative. But I guess maybe some people start getting the symptoms before blood tests reveal everything.

Of course I realise all of you reading also the face the same fate (if there are any men here, GET OUT!!!), and maybe I should consider myself lucky as my birth mother was only thirty-one when this happened to her.

But bugger that, I bloody refuse to feel grateful! I’m only thirty-seven, or is that thirty-eight (? Shit, I can’t even remember how old I am, and I can’t be bothered to work it out either! Tim, how old are we?)

Shit, I’m not in a good mood. I don’t want to be old. I don’t want to be on stupid tablets either, and it’s bloody humiliating to admit they work. I’ve been so much better this past week – with the exception of Monday, but I forgot my tablet on Saturday, so figure it was just a slight deserved dip. Or my hormones gearing up for the period. Damn.

Age sucks.

A different day

2006-08-05T17:28:00.000Z

It's nearly six in the evening, the children still aren’t fed (though thankfully the BH is seeing to it), the air is warm and the sun still shines, the dog’s hoping for a walk, and I can hear the neighbours kids screaming their heads off. The door is closed and the loudest noise is the tapping of the keys, though the computers always hum, saucepans clatter dully in the kitchen, and the odd bird chirps annoyingly.

I’m relaxed. Mellow even. Wow, it’s been a while since I felt like this. Weird too, as I have several things I should have got done, and I’d expect to feel a nugget of guilt for the decadence.

Today, though unplanned, became a day for me. The night before last I only got four hours sleep, so I was tired last night. Nevertheless I didn’t go to bed until nearly two this morning, so I should be tired today. But I’m not as I finally managed to sleep. Mostly. I still awoke around five but managed to convince myself there was nothing I had to get up and do. So I went back to sleep and didn’t get up until eleven. Kind of like two nights sleep in one.

But I wasn’t much amused with myself when the day began. Days starting so late tend to come with a foggy head, which I’m still fighting now. In fact, I know I said I don’t feel tired, but it is sort of like drowsiness.

(Yikes the fire alarm just went off, which I guess means the kids dinner will soon be ready.

I’m not having dinner because I’m not hungry. Not very thoughtful of me really as the BH was just starting to cook dinner when I came home an hour ago, but after explaining I’d just eaten, he stopped in his tracks and is now doing a quick meal for the kids.

I’ve been out with my mate Cass. I’d forgotten we agree to meet today, as it was one of those bright ideas of sheer luxury you dream up weeks in advance, and never actually do. But she mailed me on Thursday to ask if I could still meet her for a coffee in town. Though we do do this on occasion, it’s usually between taxiing the kids about and ends as a hurried garbled twenty minute affair.

But not today. Today there was nothing I had to do. Luxury.

We went to a nightclub which has a roof terrace open in the day, and drank hot chocolate whilst paying ridiculous prices. Then we wandered around town and ended up buying make-up together like we used to when we were teenagers. Did you know they have waterproof eyeliner now?

Shopped out, we found another café and had to sit al-fresco because they won’t let you smoke inside. I also had to make sure I had my back to the road in case anyone I knew drove by, especially my parents as they’d kill me if they knew I smoked. I’m grinning as that’s like old times too.

You meet interesting people when there’re only three tables and a dozen smokers. Camaraderie due to our filthy habit. We sat with a sort of biker-come-goth group. The girl next to us and boyfriend across the table had just got engaged and were busying planning a Pagan wedding for the 5th November (didn’t discover what Bonfire Night has to do with Paganism…). It was almost sweet that they were also planning to get matching foetus tattoos in two months as well. At least I think she said foetus, I asked twice but couldn’t ask again as I didn’t want to look ignorant in case it’s some kind of style or pop group.

They have to wait two months because you have to be sixteen on our sister isle to get tattoos done, and they have to go to our sister isle because you have to be eighteen here. That goes for piercing too apparently, she was most miffed she hadn’t come away with the lip ring she’d been after, and the ~~boyfriend~~ fiancé had been hoping for a tongue ring too.

Several people asked if she’d had an engagement ring yet. She does, but lent across to Cass and I, and explained the top flipped open to reveal lip gloss and sometimes it got a bit mucky so she’d left it at home. But she wasn’t upset she didn’t have a proper ring (Cass pointed out this was her first mistake!).

And this also felt like a trip down memory lane, as I agreed to marry my first boyfriend when I was fifteen too (though I got a real ring!). The pair of them were so young and bubbling with energy and delight. Of course it will most likely all vanish.

But it felt good to be reminded of how things once were.

It also felt good to come home, kick off my sensible shoes, get pounced on by the kids like I’d been away for four days not four hours, and drink a cup of tea knowing that was me for the day. Being grown-up isn’t so bad.

Stepping forward

2006-08-02T14:29:00.000Z

Suddenly realised time is speeding up again. Days have blended and weeks are slipping by without recognition. There actually isn’t that much left of the summer holidays.

Next week the boys have soccer camp, then the BH is off for three weeks, and then there’s only a week until the schools go back. Umm, not good as two of the kids are starting new schools and they all need new shoes and various other bits to start the new school year off with. Can’t leave it until the final week either, as you end up pulling your hair out because the shops have sold everything in your child’s size.

And because we’re fully booked for Thursday and Friday this week, I realised all I had left to get ourselves organised was TODAY!

Thankfully this revelation came at about six this morning and I quickly got out the clothes lists and began compiling what was needed. Geeze Louise, only mad or stupid people would have four kids! Figure I must be in the stupid pile as I didn’t exactly give any prior thought to how much the little darlings would cost in sweat and tears.

But moving past hitting my head off the desk as personal punishment, by seven the catalogue of requirements was complete. I even got carried away and came up with a meal plan for the week, as well as working out which shops should be tackled first on the basis we’d walk down town trying things on one way, but not buy until we were heading up town the other – that way ensuring less hissy fits about shoes and jumpers!

And wow, am I good!! We’d done the food shopping by nine, and finished the uniform requirements by midday! MIDDAY!!! I’m so stunned and pleased with myself, I’m sitting here ignoring the laundry without the tiniest flicker of guilt. All it took was seven shops and an uncountable number of threats whispered at the children, but it’s done, really and truly done. Well except for plimsolls for J and three pairs of trainers for the boys, but hey, that’s nothing!

Of course I’ve still got to order some new sew-in name tags and spend a week or two attaching the things, and there’s a couple of hems and sleeves which need taking up, but still, what’s that in the grand scheme of things?!

The only downside was the cost. Bloody hell that hurt, but whether I'd done it this month or next, it was bound to, so hey-ho I’m not even going to let that bother me.

And something kind of funny happened when we were out. One of those coincidence things which makes you laugh when talking with a stranger. We were in the final shop in town sorting out blazer, lab coat, sports kit and stuff for R, when I noticed a mom I sort of recognised from his old school. And yet she was buying the same blazer as us. So I ambled over and asked if her son was changing schools, indeed he is, and though he’s a year younger than R, they both looked pleased that there’d be someone they know on their first day.

She was very interested as to why we were moving R, but I avoided saying too much, and anyway they’re in the same boat, so how much needs to be said?

Anyway that wasn’t what amused me. It was later when I was dropping R off for his fencing taster that I got to smile, as the same Mom and son were there too. We laughed and agreed we are bound to bump into each other everywhere now.

She then commented that she thought we may live near her as she’s passed me in the valley a few times. Sure enough they’re our neighbours!

So she then suggested getting our boys together, but not next week as her son’s doing soccer camp. Big surprise, so are mine!

It’s a funny old world, to think I’ve never spoken to her before and yet our lives mirror each other so completely.

So anyway those were my two steps forward for the day. But you can’t take two steps forward without taking one back, can you? And the step back was icky and had an amusement factor of minus twenty.

P’s a lackwit. I would say idiot, but we don’t use that word in this house. Ugh, can’t even think how to put this, but my bumbling numpty of a son ran around the deck without looking where he was stepping, and what does he step in? I mean how many doggy poops are there on my deck or in my garden?! One, exactly one! Does he notice it, even after he slips in it? Of course not! At least not until he’s walked it into the deck grooves, through my kitchen, across the lounge carpet, rode S’s bike smeared it on the back of his trousers and plodded into the office to tell me.

Give me strength!! This is the nonsense I don’t need!! And I got tough with him, and made him wash his own shoes. You should have seen his face when I handed him the gloves, bucket and brush to scrub his shoes, whilst I tackled the rest.

Yep I’m a mean mommy with a puppy who could poop for Britain, in fact I swear more comes out than goes in! And now… now everything is done (except the second load of laundry and three emails, which I’ll tackle later) and I have half an hour until I have to rush about again. Bliss.

And suddenly…

2006-07-29T08:27:00.000Z

Yesterday I felt better. I know I’ve been feeling a bit better for a while, but that wasn’t better better, it was better in the sense that things were dulled. But yesterday I woke up and felt….heaven forbid…chirpy!

The reminder of what it’s like to approach the day with such a light feeling, was wonderful, and though the kids did their best to dissipate my mood, I wasn’t giving up! You see, once my mother arrived at 9, I was having the day off!!

From the kids, that is. As it was Friday and people need paying I still had to go to work for the morning, but that wasn’t a dampener as I love my job and my dim, quiet little office (home from home ;o)).

But something did happen at work that left me shaken and stammering. Earlier this week the boss’s wife invited me and mine to a barbeque, today, at their place. But not just us, it’s a party. And I think you lot know me well enough to realise I’m not someone who looks forward to large gatherings, compounded ten-fold when I don’t know anyone there. But it had been okay as the boss’s wife is a good friend and knows I’m skittish about such things, and quickly let me off the hook when my smile didn’t reach my eyes. Phew, she was great about it, and I soon forgot about it. Until yesterday, when the boss showed up. I was busy, head down, doing paperwork when he suddenly said his wife had mentioned I wasn’t ‘up to’ attending their barbeque, and he wanted to know why.

It’s safe to say I froze with complete horror! On the spot with someone I don’t know too well, with someone who’s about as outgoing as a person can be. I looked up like a rabbit caught in head-lights, as he calmly sat there watching me, completely oblivious to my rising panic at having to explain myself. I managed to stutter, ‘I’m actually very shy, can’t really cope with groups of people I don’t know.’

But that only made him laugh! I was dying of embarrassment at being put on the spot, and he was laughing!! ‘Is that what it is? What do you think will happen? Think my friends are going to point and laugh at you?’ he asked.

Which was really too much to ask, and I didn’t have an answer, well, except for my crimson face.

Thank goodness the man knows when to stop, because he stopped laughing and just shook his head with a grin.

Funny thing is, I think I like him more for asking. Like a hurdle of understanding if that makes any sense.

Anyway back to my day. My mood was still high, even a little amused at myself after my embarrassment, so I left the office at lunchtime and headed home with bounce in my step with the anticipation of an afternoon of nothingness.

But when I got home things were not as quiet as they should have been. The house still had three kids and a godmother in it! Putting on my best fake smile I approached with caution and was relieved to discover they were just waiting for Nana to arrive, which she did, an hour later.

Ho-hum, chin up and all that, I was still getting a couple of hours without the kids and my smile was genuine as I waved them off.

My mistake was lunch, a hurried bowl of cereal, and then I realised I hadn’t taken my tablet.

I’m not completely sure whether I can blame a stomach full of milk, but I’m reasonably sure it was, but within half an hour, I was less feeling chipper by the minute. I had heartburn like you wouldn’t believe and I didn’t dare lie down for fear everything would come up. Which, when I felt worse than I could imagine, I began to yearn for.

But I’m afraid of being sick. Much too close to the smell and sound, plus I have a lot of trouble stopping once I’ve started. I stood in front of the fan in the kitchen offering silent payers and curing my stupid medication. When I couldn’t stand it any longer I called the BH and asked him to bring home some Gaviscon in a vain hope it would work on the heartburn like it did when I was pregnant.

But it didn’t. I just felt worse and worse. It hurt to swallow, it hurt to move, everything burned. So I went to bed, and in a virtual sitting position, fell asleep.

I missed the kids return along with dinner, which there was no way I could have eaten anyway. And around nine last night, I got up and sipped on water, relieved that I did feel slightly better.

I feel almost okay again this morning, but I’m not looking forward to the medication at lunchtime, as I’m kind of afraid of it now (silly, I know).

And ultimately, I feel cheated! It’s not often I get an afternoon of nothingness and quiet and it was stolen from me.

Never mind, today’s another day and at least I get to go to work again on Monday, and hey, I still feel…not unhappy!

Lazy Days

2006-07-27T16:56:00.000Z

Wish this dumb dog would move! He’s lying asleep under my chair, and between not wanting to run over his ear, or wake him (life is easier when he sleeps!), I’m sat all wrong to type.

We’re one week down on the summer holidays and it’s safe to say I’m enjoying them. I don’t mean having the kids about (though I’ve only wanted to kill them half a dozen or so times) but the loss of caring what day it is, is delightful. Now if I could just persuade the kids to stop fighting, stop being hungry and thirsty all the time, stop yelling, stop going through three outfits a day (each), and tidy their rooms, my life would be a dream!

But back to reality. R finally received his school report yesterday, and there was a note with it which has made me smile – due to the number of boys loosing the equipment from their pencil cases, the school will now be providing all equipment required and parents are asked not to supplement with extras – Ha!! Loosing?!! Yeah, right. Still ‘tis good to know other parents won’t be pulling their hair out as I did. Bloody typical that they do it when he’s leaving though!

And something else interesting about his report, it wasn’t as good as usual. His grades look alright, but two of the teachers (English and Maths) say he doesn’t try as hard enough, and another complained he didn’t hand homework in on time (though she did add it was due to absences – strange as it’s only four days in the last two terms). R swears blind she’s lying, and I do find it odd as the school make a big point of saying they hand out demerits if homework isn’t in on time, and R has never had a demerit. His year teacher even comments that R has collected more merits than most. I don’t much care after all the fuss we’ve had with the school this year, but it bugs me a bit as this report will go to his new school and it doesn’t seem fair after so many years of glowing reports.

Having said that, everything has always come so easy to R and I’ve often wondered how he would cope when things got tougher. After all, you have to learn to study and R hasn’t got a clue what’s involved with that! Lucky sod really, but all things considered I think it’s a good thing he’s off to an academic school next term.

Other news includes, S turning 4! Four. Four years since I had a baby, where does the time go? And have I mentioned I’ve finally accepted S is my last? Of course on a sensible level I’ve known this for a while, but my heart ached at the reality. But no more, now it’s okay, sad but okay.

And let’s face it, I couldn’t cope with any more kids! Sure they all start off cute (nature’s big con ;o)), but then they go and grow up, and whine, and stamp their feet, and never stop eating, or wanting to do things. I’m tired, and as much as I love them all to bits, I’d really like them all to go away for a while. I know that sounds incredibly mean, but I just would like it all to stop for a day or two. But I mustn’t complain as life is definitely easier without all the school runs!

And I was talking about S’s birthday. It was a good day, she seemed happy enough with her gifts and being taken out for dinner. And I had to laugh, as my Friday friend (who’s also S’s Godmother) gave S a card for turning 3. You should have heard her exclaim in utter disgust, ‘I’M NOT 3!’ What amuses me so much is that this same woman gave P a card for turning 6 on his 4th birthday, and it’s all becoming a bit of a joke now. Though I should add, P wasn’t near as indignant about her error as S was!

Oh my day just got ruined! A tiny chaffinch just killed itself by flying into the office window. At least I think it’s dead, I can’t feel a heartbeat and after holding it for ten minutes, it’s still not moving. Poor thing, I’ve put it out of the sun and away from any cats reach just in case I’m wrong. I hope I am.

Did I ever mention how I had to take a day of work once because I couldn’t stop crying over a dead mouse? I don’t normally go quite so nuts, but I was very pregnant with R, and it was my fault it was dead. Thought I was being clever by using those humane mouse traps which don’t kill the mice, just trap them. But this little thing died of sheer fright, and there it was dead in my hands, I just felt so awful about it. Guess it was better than being poisoned and dying in writhing agony, but at the time I was beside myself.

What a daft mare I am!

And a messy one, which brings us to my final bit for today (bet you thought I’d have to shut up soon, eh?!), Daisy tagged me into showing what I had in my fridge, closet, car and handbag.

Well the fridge is full of goodies left over from S’s birthday:That’s chocolate cake (two of them ;o)), lemonade, custard, cream, profiteroles, and then the usual stuff like Tommy sauce, marg, watermelon, grapes, coke, eggs, veg, cheeses, milk, beer, lucozade and bacon.

The closet isn’t so bad. Piles of jeans, with jumpers on the top shelf that will hopefully not get used for several more weeks, and lots of shirts.

My handbag is stuffed full as you can see! Kids sunglasses, phone/pda, tissues, cheque book, purse with cards and money, lipstick, memory pen, receipts galore, lighters, and of course cigarettes. They say the state of a woman’s handbag is a reflection of her state of mind, and I’m mighty surprised it isn’t worse.

The car is an absolute tip! Spades, buckets, dog treats, more tissues, telephone directory, booster seats, stickers, umbrella, dog lead, wipes, CDs for a CD player which hasn’t worked for two years. Have you heard enough yet? I’ll trust you have!

And now I have to tag people, but Ummmm, I think I'll just tag everyone who reads this! (And I'll know, I check the IPs!!)

Oh joy…

2006-07-23T08:59:00.000Z

R’s just made me a cup of tea.

I’m sure I should be grateful, and I did smile and make all the right noises, but blimey it’s like drinking dishwater! Am thinking I’ll be able to nip into the cloakroom when he sits to eat his breakfast, and then I can dispose of it.

So I bet you’re wondering what I’ve been up to, not that I’d actually place money on that, but the answer is: nothing. I get up, clean, walk the dog, do whatever has to be done, and stare at the computer a while, then go back to bed. You may also notice that really isn’t enough to fill a person’s day, and you’d be right, except I’ve cut my day in half. Seriously, I now sleep twice a day, for three or four hours at a time. At least this has been my pattern for three days this week. The best days.

It can’t go on though, as it’s not fair on the kids or the BH, and anyway the boys are attending cricket camp this coming week which will cramp my new found slovenly style. Plus it doesn’t lead to any inspiring posts.

So seeing as I have nothing to say, I thought I’d tell you about someone who was a good friend. It came to me that I’ve never mentioned Molly here, and after reading Tim-tambolini’s post I’m inspired to do so.

Molly

A decade ago the BH and I were working flat out on renovating out first house. I can’t even begin to described what a nightmare it was (least not today, as it in itself deserves a week of posts!) but if I explain we used a chemical toilet, and had a hose coming in a window to provide us with water, for eight months, you’re sure to get an idea of how idyllic life was back then.

You may also be able to work out we only had one child, R, and it’s almost amusing to remember the boy had terrible trouble adapting to being stuck in front of a TV for days on end, as previously to our home-owning days, he’d never experienced it.

But back to Molly. It was all R’s fault, and Tweety-pie’s. We had two birds back then, Dingbat the cockatiel, and Tweety the budgie, but after several years Tweety developed an attitude and though a great deal smaller, would continually attack poor Dingbat. So instead of one cage crammed into our one room of habitable living space, we had two. And R kept sneezing. Turned out he didn’t have the lungs for sleeping two foot from a bird cage. It was either the birds or R that had to go, and though he was more trouble, we opted to keep R.

So I called the old peoples home up the road and asked if they’d like two birds with two cages, and they figured they could easily loose the cages in one of their many ~~napping rooms~~ lounges.

But a couple of months later I received a call from a woman, Molly, to say that Dingbat was hated. Apparently he screeched too much for the old dears’ hearing aids and had been banished to a little used corridor. Molly wasn’t happy about her friends’ attitude so thought to call me after finding my number stuck to the bottom of his cage.

Thankfully by then we had two habitable rooms in our house and after speaking with Mother Superior it was agreed we’d take him back.

Molly met me at the door and slowly (she had a walking frame) led me through the mass of corridors, all the time muttering about how rotten Phyllis was, and how it was her fault no one liked Dingbat (90 year old Phyllis was apparently top-dog). When Molly offered me tea it seemed rude to say no, especially after it had obviously taken her twenty minutes to get down to the front door to wait for me.

So for the next hour I sat and listened as Molly gossiped about who were the nuns favourites, and all the things she hated about the home. She wasn’t a happy woman.

Seemed she felt duped into being there. Apparently she’d put her name down for a place, not expecting anything to happen for a couple of years. But it had, very quickly, and her family pointed out it wasn’t fair of her to expect them to worry about her living alone, when the home would be able to make sure she was safe and fed. And her friends had promised to visit, but hadn’t. In fact Molly hadn’t had a single visitor after the first week, and she’d been there over a year.

I couldn’t walk away after that. She had no one, and so after putting Dingbat in my car I returned to Molly’s room and asked if it would be alright if I came to see her the following Saturday.

And so began one of the dearest friendships of my life.

The first few months were very difficult as Molly cried a lot. She was desperate to leave and I probably didn’t help as I humoured her whims and made endless calls to get her transferred. But there was no where else for someone with no money and so little mobility.

Once she’d accepted she was stuck, I was able to cheer her somewhat by tracking down her cat that she’d been forced to give up when she’d moved there. I took pictures and came back with stories from the new owner. Then I bought her a Furby. It makes me giggle now, but Molly loved that daft toy!

And jam, fresh custard, and grapes always cheered her up, so I took them up to her each Saturday at 11 and listened to her stories.

She told me all about walking three miles to school and back each day, her school lessons, the scandals, the boys she had crushes on and how her brother would see them off. But her brother had married a cow of a woman who hated the relationship Molly had with her brother, and so it was only after his wife died that she got close to her brother again. When Molly was sixteen the Germans arrived and occupied the island for the next five years. I heard first hand what happened to the girls (Gerry-bags as Molly once whispered they were then called) who fraternised the soldiers, and discovered romantic ending were few and far between. Not that Molly had a great deal of sympathy back then, as her brother and beau were off fighting in Europe.

The stuff I used to find most interesting was how day to day life was. Hiding the radios, pinning the eggs before giving them to the Germans, drying the laundry strung over bushes, and collecting the sea water to boil down for salt.

But then the Germans were gone and her beau, Bob, came home to marry her. They married in winter and unfortunately there was ice on the ground. On Molly’s wedding day she slipped and hurt her neck, she never recovered. For many years she saw doctors, but the pain never ceased, so her and her husband decided it wouldn’t be wise to have children. Molly never regretted that decision, but Bob did, and did something about it. When he announced he wanted a divorce so he could marry his pregnant girlfriend Molly wrote to the Pope begging him not to allow it. Of course Bob got his divorce and left Molly to pine her life away.

Over thirty years she spent waiting for Bob to come to his senses and realise she was the woman for him. Molly had more patience than me, and it paid off when he was widowed. After lots of letters and phone-calls Bob came back to the island and asked Molly to forgive him. In a heart-beat she did, and Bob went back to England to pack up his things and explain to his daughter what he was doing. His daughter took it all with good grace and helped her father pack.

But the day before he was due to return he had a heart attack and died. Molly was devastated. By then she was in her seventies and all she had left was her brother, but age had caught up with him too and he developed Alzheimer’s. Molly was eighty when he died, and I would have been with her at his funeral except I was off giving birth to P.

For the next couple of years I visited with children in tow, and I think she grew to like them, though she rolled her eyes and asked me if I’d ever stop when I confided I was pregnant with my fourth, S.

Then something wonderful happened. Molly liked to play on the organ in the Chapel and it turned out there was a certain gentleman, Alfonso, who liked to listen to her play. Unfortunately Alfonso’s English wasn’t so good, but his Italian accent fascinated Molly and I would sit and listen to her gush like a teenager about how she was teaching him words and learning Italian too.

I decided to spice things up a bit, so I went and found Alfonso and with some difficulty managed to ask if he would accompany me in taking Molly out to lunch on her eighty-third birthday. He was only too happy to agree and so I got to play goose-berry and taxi-driver to the love-birds.

After that things really started happening fast, but then I guess they didn’t have much time to waste. Alfonso offered to take Molly to Assisi as St Francis was Molly’s favourite Saint, and to the horror of Mother Superior, Molly agreed.

But those nuns didn’t play fair and they told the Priest what Molly and Alfonso were planning, and being that Molly was such a devote Catholic she hesitated when Father Michael frowned.

Looking back we shouldn’t have doubted Alfonso could see a way past the fuss, and I darn near cried with glee when Molly called one evening to say Alfonso had proposed. Molly was getting married! She was so happy. And nervous too. And though the nuns didn’t approve of Alfonso, even they could see he made Molly happy.

Everything was planned, the church booked, the lunch organised, and a holiday in Italy reserved. Molly was busy the week before her wedding, but she and Alfonso made time to go out to lunch together and enjoy some quiet time.

Alfonso thought she was tired when he walked her back to her room and suggested she have a lie-down, he’d see her at dinner.

He didn’t.

Mother-Superior herself called me to tell me Molly had died. It was a gentle painless thing, and for that I’m glad, as Molly surely deserved it. At the time it broke my heart that she hadn’t made it to the alter with Alfonso, but I’ve since realised she was happy that day, and I couldn’t have hoped for more for her.

Her funeral was difficult for me, as what little family she had eyed me with suspicion and didn’t talk to me. Never really understood that, but it doesn’t matter, Molly knew how much I loved her.

There ain’t no pleasing me!

2006-07-18T11:07:00.000Z

Is that a double negative? Ugh, who* cares?

Anyway, ‘tis too hot. The BH says I complain when it’s cold, and now I’m bitching that it’s too warm. Darn right I am, as I don’t get an air conditioned office to sit in, in fact the only place which has air conditioning around here is the car. But I daren’t use as it drinks the diesel when I do. So I’m too hot!!

As you can tell my mood isn’t the best. Strange, as I now think the medication is working, and I was expecting things to bother me less. Which is probably how it appears to the outside world, as though everything still irritates me the same, I just don’t have the energy to moan about it. Or maybe ‘energy’ isn’t the right* word as it’s not that I’m tired, it’s more like feeling detached and too weary to articulate it.

Not sure I like this affect either, as it’s stuffing up my thinking. So much has been happening, but it’s all so tiresome I can’t be bothered to post about it. Where’s the fun gone? And I wouldn’t even mind if I was teary, but even my tears have deserted me. I should have been sobbing this morning at S’s Nursery leaving show. I cried when R left, and he was only my first, and you’d think having attended for years and this being my final event with them, I’d be moved. And I am, deep inside. Somewhere.

And now the show is out of the way, it’s pretty much all over for this school year, and they’ll all finish at midday tomorrow (yeah, I’m thrilled to have to be in three places at once, thank heavens for the BH!). Though S is supposed to be having her final swim lesson this afternoon, but I’ve decided we’re not going. Of course my mother will kill me, but I’m too hot and short of time to drive all that way when all they’ll do is mess about in the pool (as they always do on the final lessons).

Flippin’eck I’ve turned into a right misery. It’s alright for you, you can click the next blog button and move on, but me? I’m stuck with myself!

Even the dog walks aren’t cheering me up, and I haven’t been to the woods for the last three days. Or the beach, but I always avoid the beach in the summer as it’s when all the fair-weather beach bums show up, as they send me off the Richter scale with their filthy looks and murmurs of disapproval as my dog turns to look at their children.

Something’s got to give. I want something to give. Only trouble is I don’t have the spark to make it happen myself.

I guess the holidays might turn up a joy or two. At least once we get the first three weeks of chaotic activities out of the way. All the moms at the schools are bleating about how long they are this year (7 weeks) and what shall they do with the kids. After the first three weeks, I plan to do nothing! As far as I’m concerned the kids can learn to amuse themselves.

Actually there is something I feel like doing. Writing. But not here, I mean writing stories again. But that’s hardly fair on the kids and the BH as I do get a tad obsessed, though it may be why I can’t think of anything to type here, as my mind keeps turning back towards the plot and character creation. Useless mare can’t do two things at once you know! Least not when it comes to writing.

So instead, I do nothing. Becoming a bit of a habit.

* Amanda and Dave may feel free to knock themselves out with corrections.

Edit added: I did this whilst over at Poopie's, and thought it quite apt.

What Your Soul Really Looks Like

You are very passionate and quite temperamental. While you can be moody, you always crave comfort.

You are a very grounded, responsible, and realistic person. People may not want to hear the truth from you, but they're going to get it.

You believe that people see you for how you are, not how you look. But deep down, you know that's not exactly true.

Your near future is still unknown, and a little scary. You'll get through wild times - and you'll textually enjoy it.

For you, love is all about caring and comfort. You couldn't fall in love with someone you didn't trust.

Inside the Room of Your Soul

You stinker!

2006-07-14T05:39:00.000Z

This dog is driving me to distraction (I was going to write nuts, but I don’t need the dog for that) though in a lot of ways he has gotten better over the past couple of weeks, no, I have just two major problems left, and though I’m almost embarrassed to mention them here, I’m going to, as I’ll take any advice I can!

The first is: his willy (I wonder how many google hits that will earn me ;o)) This dog won’t put it away. Whenever he sits down, out it pops, which of course amuses the children no end, but doesn’t tickle me so much.

The other is: He’s greedy. And I mean beyond reason. Bad enough he’ll jump to take food off the table or out of the children’s hands, but that isn’t what bothers me most. The most bothersome habit is (actually I’ve discovered I AM embarrassed to write this), checking his poop to see if there’s anything worth eating over again.

There, I said it. Even thinking about it makes me feel ill, and I’ll bet you’re sitting there thinking ‘Gee, thanks Jona, now I feel ill too!’ Sorry, but I need help, or rather, my dog does.

And with this information confided, you can guess his tummy still isn’t settled. Which in turn, leads to some very unhappy mornings (he had become clean overnight, until this latest habit). My kitchen now has just two smells, yuck and bleach, and neither is how I want my kitchen to smell!

Other news includes, more sports days. J enjoyed hers, though we all got wet due to a sudden cloud burst.

And R had his, but I didn’t realise I could have gone to watch R’s (there was no letter to say so!), not that I could have gone, as it was at the same time as J’s. And R came home disappointed as he came fourth in the 400m, which I know that doesn’t sound so bad, but there was only four runners.

I of course did the mom thing of explaining that we all have different gifts and strengths, his father on the other hand started laughing.

S also had her ballet recital yesterday, and that was another activity I couldn’t make, as I was busy on the school run. But the BH made her day by watching his littlest darling prance around in borrowed ballet shoes two sizes too big for her (but she didn’t fall over!)

My stress level went through the roof on Wednesday night, due to a dear friend being rushed into hospital with suspected meningitis. Thankfully it wasn’t, and she’s recovering quickly, but between that and my doctor’s appointment scheduled for Thursday morning, I didn’t sleep so well.

The doctor’s appointment went okay I suppose, and I was glad I didn’t end up a blubbering mess again. I’m now on double dose to see if that improves me.

Oh and I also had the courage to cancel my Friday friend. Well actually, I texted her, which doesn’t show much courage, but I’m a crap liar, so what’s a gal to do? She was fine about it (though I was kind of honest, and said I didn’t feel up to it), but mentioned her youngest finishes at 2:30 next Friday and she and her pain-in-the-arse-son could be here early. I'm really not sure I'll feel up to that either.

Blonde? I should be platinum!

2006-07-09T08:15:00.000Z

I’m going to admit something really, really stupid that happened yesterday. And I mean toe-curling stupid!

I don’t think I shall be sharing this with people in real life, unless they notice. But as I have experience with alopecia and am rather handy with my make-up, it boded well that no-one commented yesterday. That, or they thought it too delicate to mention to my face.

As you know, it was P’s eighth birthday yesterday, however that has nothing to do with this tale of ~~woe~~ stupidity, and so I’ll get back to that later.

Ugh, where to start? This is embarrassing! So first I’ll tell more than ever wanted to know about my make-up habits.

I curl my eyelashes. Nothing too amazing in that, plenty of women do. And nowadays you can buy those fancy heated type. Unfortunately I’m too tight to buy them. Instead I have a metal pair (you know the type – look like an instrument of torture) and I use my hairdryer to warm them.

You know where this is going, don’t you? Yeah.

Yesterday, I followed my regular routine, I heated my curlers in the usual fashion, but instead of placing my dryer on the bed next to me, I left them on my lap whilst I curled my eyelashes – again nothing too outrageously abnormal in that.

But here’s my words of warning: when a dryer slips, it’s instinct to grab for it.

And this is an awful idea when your right hand is busy holding eyelash curlers in place.

The BH was lying in bed watching me in stunned silence, only daring to speak to point out I’d said ‘Oh my god!’ six times, and it wasn’t going to put my eyelashes back.

In my defence, there’s something very un-nerving about suddenly seeing ALL your right eye eyelashes suddenly at arms length. Poor little things. Poor me.

What’s weird is, it didn’t even hurt. You’d think it would, right? I certainly sat there waiting for the pain, but thankfully it didn’t come. And better still I caught my dryer!

So what are the chances of me posting a picture now? NIL. At least not of my face. Can’t have you lot enlarging the photo and seeing my bald eye! This is just too embarrassing, and I’m going to have to live with is for more than a couple of weeks. I’m guessing, but if you know how long eyelashes take to grow back, and it isn’t that long, please feel free to make me feel better (and explain how you know).

So now my tale of embarrassment is out, and I suppose I should mention P’s birthday. It went well, all things considered.

Those things include a mother with no eyelashes and a fragile disposition, a sports day with too many people milling around for my comfort, grandparents and godparents who stress me to the point of breaking, and a general hecticness that should only be repeated once a year. Which, if I only had one child, would work out perfectly. But as I don't we're now on the two week countdown to S's fourth birthday.

But in all seriousness, he seemed to love the day and gave me a wonderful hug and said so before going to bed. Of course none of us were thrilled with his sister S who broke his main pressie and hid it, before the day was out.

Here’s some moments from our day:

I’m finding today hard

2006-07-07T17:27:00.000Z

It’s S’s sports day tomorrow, but I still haven’t invited The Godmother (which is really mean, as she knows about it). I just can’t face the call, knowing she’ll drive me bonkers when we’re all there.

And my friend just left (the one with the pain in the arse son, whom I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, he certainly winds me up often enough, but I can’t find any links). Thank goodness, as I was truly struggling to smile and make conversation.

Why is it some people are good for me (in the sense they cheer me up) and other’s just finish me off? They’re all nice people, and care about me. Which I guess makes the problem wholly mine

I’ve been on these tablets for over two weeks now, aren’t they supposed to be working by now? I know they’re not some magic miracle, but still…

Oh and I told my friend I was on them, figuring she deserved an explanation as to why I haven’t been chirpy for months. She assumed I’d had a nervous breakdown and pointed out I am highly strung. I didn’t say anything, but inside I was screaming ‘OH F*CK OFF! I’m highly strung when you’re here because of your bloody child!’

And Kobi ripped her top. It’s always her clothes. Why the heck is that? He never rips anyone else’s! So whilst the pain in the arse son is busy demolishing my house, I get to sit there apologising for my damn dog and offering to buy her clothes (though she never accepts).

Friday used to be my favourite day of the week, it isn’t anymore.

I also wish I could face telling my parents I’m feeling overwhelmed at the moment. Wish I could ask for a bit of help. But my brother is being a thoughtless, incompetent git, and I don’t want to add to their inconveniences. And that’s apart from not having the courage.

Did I mention it’s P’s 8th birthday tomorrow? And have you noticed my mind is jumping? But back to the birthday. I feel bad as the kids are too young to realise I’m not up to the usual chaos at the moment. Instead they just think I’m mean. P wanted a sleep-over (his first) and asked weeks ago. At the time I said no because his room isn’t big enough – or rather, that was the excuse I gave him. Trouble is he got R to agree to swap rooms for the night, and so figured he could have him friend around. But his friend is one of the little ~~sods~~ darling’s who’s afraid of dogs, and the real reason I couldn’t face it was the noise this lad makes as he runs through my house screaming and slamming doors. Anyway, P went and invited him and then thought to mention it to me, and I promptly said no and told him he should have okayed it with me first. So I’m a bad guy. And worse still, the new Pirates of the Caribbean is out tomorrow, and only got designated as a 12A a couple of weeks ago. P thought he was going to see it, but I took a look at the trailer and he can’t.

And the dog ate S’s ballet shoes. This I didn’t need, as she only has one lesson to go before the summer break. Under normal circumstances I would simply tell her ballet had finished, but next week is the class where they invite parents to watch and she’s so excited. Not that I can make it, as I’ve got other kids to pick up (not all my own either), but the BH has come to the rescue and will go watch his baby girl perform. Just have to remember to ask every mother I meet if they have a pair of shoes they can lend us, as I really don’ want to spend the money when she’s sure to grow over the summer.

Well there you go, another cheery read of all that’s on my mind! Actually it’s not all, but I figure I’ve bored you enough, and anyway I’ve run out of time.

Have a good weekend, and I'm hoping mine might be, as this time last year was lovely.

Becoming blonder

2006-07-05T16:26:00.000Z

I got a new toy today. A phone! I’ve never had a new phone before (always others’ cast-offs), but then I’m not very au fait with phones and within a minute I managed to lock my sim card. Ho-hum the BH got a laugh, and demonstrated he’s the clever-cloggs of our union.

But at least I’m not as electronically challenged as some, as the boss’s wife proved last night. The boss is away today. Left yesterday and apparently thought I was going into the office this morning, but I wasn’t, I was busy getting my hair done. Turned into a bit of a problem as he was expecting an urgent fax and wanted it faxed on. Instead of calling me and telling me I was needed, my dear friend (the boss’s wife) tried to help. But she can’t use a fax/printer and managed to put the urgent document into the wrong paper-feed, and then got the page printed over. I can giggle now, but when she called me, we were both panic-struck. I left my dinner on the table and dashed around there as she made phone calls to get another copy sent. But all’s well that ends well, and I don’t suppose either of us are in a hurry to tell the boss what a pair we are.

As the BH is fond of saying, Woman, know your limits! Good job he smiles when he says it.

And today was nice, because as I mentioned, I went to the hairdresser. It was wonderful to sit there and have someone run their fingers through my hair. A bit too wonderful as I could feel myself getting sleepy, and that could be down-right embarrassing! Plus I went a few shades lighter. Blonde again, though the BH has yet to be convinced I’m as blonde as I should be.

Umm, I think he means he thinks I look better blonde.

Just being lazy…

2006-07-04T05:44:00.000Z

Or maybe not lazy, as there just doesn’t seem to be any time between Thursdays and Tuesdays. Not that there is between, Tuesdays and Thursdays either. But it’s definitely time that’s at fault.

Anyhoo, I’m sitting here still waiting for these tablets to kick in so I can become a calm and collected person, though I suppose I am calmer as I haven’t cried since I started taking them. Amazing really, as it’s been nearly two weeks and that’s a loooong time for me to go without tears! But I’m still agitated inside. I still have to remind myself to breathe and recite daft little ditties to myself, when I think I’m going to either scream at someone, or keel over.

Kind of worried the drugs have kicked in, and this is as good as it gets, but if so I may then have to ask to up the dosage ;o)

One thing that hasn’t improved is my sleeping. In fact I think it’s getting worse, though I do get to say I’m now a night person and a morning person! This time last year I couldn’t imagine getting up to see the dawn, now I stand in the woods and wonder at what moment it is actually ‘dawn’.

And it’s so pretty early in the morning! The clouds all have pink streaks, the birds are all going crazy, the sun turns orange, it’s not too hot, and best of all there’s hardly anyone about.

In fact I think I may be developing a small problem with that. You see I have this ‘thing’ – I like it when I don’t see anyone before six. And I mean anyone! I get really fed up when a cyclist or car whizzes past (no one follows the speed limit early in the morning!). I keep telling myself, my morning isn’t ruined just because I’ve seen another soul, but I do feel a heap more relaxed when I return from the dog walk and haven’t seen anyone.

I was walking back today when two cars past and ruined my tranquillity, and I got to thinking how nice the world would be with hardly anyone in it. Who knows, maybe I’m ready to live in a big place with lots of space at last?

But there is something else I don’t like about my early morning walks. The roads are okay, but when I hit the woods, then I know I’m the first to walk through them each day, because of all the spider’s webs. If you could watch me, you’d laugh! Most of the time I walk with my arm held in front of my head, as I just can’t bear getting the damn things on my face. I can feel them accumulating down my arms and some mornings that creeps me out so much, I start looking for the spiders. And when you look, you can always see them, hanging from trees and hiding under leafs that stretch across the path. Beginning to wish we lived next to the sea, which I suppose we do, but not within walking distance to be home before the house awakes.

So anyway, how long do you suppose a person can go with less than five hours sleep a night? Maybe I’ll go doodle-ally and find out, then let you know. Oh wait, I’m there already ;o)

Oh and the headmaster called me yesterday. What a lovely man! I so wish I had insisted on talking with him in the first place, as I bet R wouldn’t be leaving that school. Of course he totally bullshitted me about the movie being edited and suitable for the younger boys, but he was so charming I didn’t rise to challenging him about the age R saw on the box, or question whether he seriously believed a Hollywood film is historically accurate. No, I let it go. But for me, not him or the school.

I’m trying hard not to let things get to me at the moment, and it isn’t wise to create situations where I get wound up (even if I know I’m right!). And anyway, evil cow that I am, I made of point of telling a couple of mothers who didn’t know about the movie and didn’t sound impressed about it, and as their sons aren’t leaving they can take the baton if they so wish. Actually one of the mother’s was really upset, not so much about the movie, but about R leaving. She admitted she started crying when she heard (tempted to suggest she should be on the same tablets as me ;o)), and called her ex-husband to say she thought their son should leave too. Little drastic in my opinion, but she did go on to say she doesn’t believe the school values anything other than sporting excellence. But now that R’s ‘friends’ know he’s leaving, he’s taking a lot of stick for it, and I can’t see this woman’s son wanting to put himself in the firing line.

And talking about new schools, later today S has her induction afternoon at J’s school! She’s so excited! So am I. Just think, another couple of months, and I’ll have all that extra time to myself! Yippee!! You know, I actually cried when R started school, but I think I’ll throw a mother’s luncheon party when S starts.

Right well, the kitchen's clean and tidy, the dog’s been walked, and it’s nearly time to wake the house. Have a good day!

I want you to be honest and tell me if it’s me

2006-06-29T11:07:00.000Z

I’m not in a good mood. I’m irritated at R’s school (yet again!). As you know he only has a few weeks to go before he leaves, and though I haven’t explained the reasons here as to why we’re pulling him out, I’m sure you can gather it’s because we’re less than happy with the school.

On the 1st June we wrote a brief letter letting the headmaster know that R will be leaving. On the 19th June I wrote again, requesting that they acknowledge the first letter. We’ve heard nothing.

Yesterday, R comes home and tells me they got to watch Kingdom of Heaven at school (though they missed the final twenty minutes as the bell went). Umm, this had me wondering if my memory served me right, as I was sure the movie is a 15 certificate and surely they wouldn’t show it to my 11 year old.

But I am right, it is a 15 movie, and though I’m aware we’re somewhat old fashioned, we don’t allow R to see movies above a 12 rating. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen any movies which are older, he has (about four of them) but only after we’ve watched them and agreed he can see them within the house.

So after calling another mother to make sure it wasn’t just the odd clip they’d seen (incidentally, she wasn’t bothered in the least) I called the school today to enquire how this had come about.

Unfortunately it’s activities week and there’s no-one for me to speak to, except the headmaster’s secretary, with whom I explained my irritation. She took the details along with my number and asked me to bear with her until Monday when everyone should be back and available to provide the information. So be it.

But I also thought to mention that I had written to the headmaster twice this month and as yet, had not received a response. Off she went to look through her files then came back to tell me, yes they’re aware R is leaving and that she called me twice on the 21st June (at 3:50 and 4:15) to acknowledge my letters. I suggested she check the number on file, as I hadn’t received any messages. Sure enough the number was correct, but she went onto explain she didn’t like leaving messages as parents often panic when the school leaves a message to contact them.

I then pointed out that as I’m waiting for a response, did it not seem, I wouldn’t be panicking? She stuttered a bit then said she’d get the headmaster to call me Monday to discuss the movie issue and explain why I hadn’t received a written response to my letters to date.

A written response? Hang on a sec, I didn’t receive any response! If you call my house at school kicking out time and choose not to leave a message on the answering machine, how on earth am I supposed to know you’ve called? (Damn my poor telepathic abilities!)

Pointing this out only resulted in more stuttering and being told to bear with the school.

But bloody hell, I feel like I’m hitting my head against a brick wall! I mean, how long does it take to write: We acknowledge your letter of…. And what the heck is the school doing, showing a 15 certificate movie to my 11 year old? The secretary went on about finding out who authorised it, but in truth I couldn’t care less who authorised it – I didn’t give my permission and I don’t believe they know better than the certification board!

I am so narked. But honestly, I want to know, is it me?

Oh goody, it’s Monday. Again.

2006-06-26T12:14:00.000Z

R’s school took his year group to France today, just for the day. It required an early start and I wasn’t surprised to find R in the kitchen making toast at 6:15. Was a tad surprised to find S up with him, but they settled down to eat their breakfasts whilst I sorted out the river the dog had created overnight (I might have to start limiting his water after 6pm like the kids!)

Wasn’t best pleased when I heard a crashing sound and turned around to discover Kobi on the table knocking S’s unfinished breakfast cereal everywhere. Even less pleased when I was clearing that up, and I heard that glorious noise regular readers will know I despise – someone was being loudly sick.

Rushing to the scene (yeah I can be a good mom, even when every instinct I have tells me to run the other way!), I discovered the worst possible situation – it was R. And to make matters worse he’d already taken his anti-histamine, and though there was a good chance most of it had come up, I couldn’t give him another as the bottle gives severe warnings about taking two in one day.

As you can imagine there was much pleading and tears to come. But I have to be responsible sometimes, and though we’d paid for the damn trip, there was no way we could let him go.

When I called the teacher she said she was pleased I was honest as on previous years some parents had still allowed sick kids to go (no doubt bullied by the tears and slamming doors), and that just messed up everyone’s day.

But to say R was furious is an understatement. And he kept saying he felt fine, that it was probably just nerves, or the anti-histamine taken earlier than normal. He barely spoke to us as the clock headed towards 8 and he informed us the boat would be leaving. Even bribery in the form of PS2 didn’t help. I left him here this morning feeling like the worst mom in the world.

Now it’s lunchtime, and thank the heavens – he really IS ill!

Well, I don’t mean thank heavens he’s ill, just that I’m glad I’m no longer the angst-ridden-over-reacting-mother he considered me this morning. And I’ve had to warn him, he may not make the cricket day planned for tomorrow (figured I was better to mention it whilst he was gripping his stomach and swallowing hard ;o))

Oh and the poor dog is still waiting for his walk, that’ll teach him for being thrilled at so much company early in the morning!

A day off

2006-06-25T12:21:00.000Z

1st Tea break: I thought I’d try for a day doing nothing today. Then I remembered the ironing needs doing, the girls hair needs doing, the kitchen stinks (again, thanks Kobi!) and needs scrubbing, two loads of washing should get done, and I’ve got accounts to do for one of my jobs – and after that lot, and the dog walks, I seriously doubt there’ll be much time left for doing nothing.

Still, I get my tea breaks (which is when I’m jotting here) though I’m supposed to be cutting down on the caffeine (doctor’s orders) so I’m trying to drink more water, which is so boring.

2nd Tea break (ugh, I mean water break): Hohoho, having just finished getting the kitchen floor ready for washing (cleaning the bird out, taking the chairs out, and sweeping up) I have just remembered the dog ate the mop. Great. Now I have to do it on my hands and knees. 40 square meters with the utility. On the upside, I’ve already screamed at the children’s comings and goings so much (when I was sweeping) they’re now all hiding outside with the dog, so even if my knees give out, at least I’ll get some peace and quiet!

And talking about peace and quiet, I got a lie-in this morning and managed to stay in bed until 6:45. Turned out to be a bit of a mistake as it meant that the kids were already up, and thus three of them asked to accompany me on the dog’s morning walk. Now a nice sane mom might be thrilled at the prospect of her children wishing to join her – and I was, for all of two minutes. Then we got to the end of the drive.

3rd water break (kitchen nearly done!), but who am I kidding? These are cigarette breaks with a drink thrown in: So by the time we set out, the kids had already started arguing about who should get to walk the dog. Never mind that I hadn’t agreed any of them could walk him (it might be a Sunday on a 15mph road, but there aren’t any pavements), and of course with both the girls in tow the volume soon reached fever pitch. And even after I’d said no-one could have a go until Kobi had run through the woods and worn himself out a tad, they found plenty of other stuff to squeal about. And when they weren’t shouting at the ducks and debating which way to go, P was playing the Mad Scientist (it’s what he now wants to be when he grows up) and scaring them silly with his practiced insane laugh.

All this time I’m trying to remind Kobi to heal and hissing at the kids to be quiet as the people in the neighbouring houses might surely like to sleep later than 8am on a Sunday morning!

4th Tea break and now the proud owner of a clean kitchen floor and wrinkly hands (and yes it is tea, I deserve it!): I was complaining about the dog walk, but my mind’s moved on from that now, and anyway there were some sweet moments – would you believe S can’t count to 10 but can remember all I told her about ferns? She was able to tell J all about how old they were, and how the dinosaurs ate them, but how the dinosaurs had mostly died out and the others evolved into birds, but not the ferns. J wasn’t really interested, but I was touched our lunchtime walks had obviously interested S.
Oh and you may notice from the picture, the only one who ever bothered to see if mom was flowing behind was Kobi. Bless his heart, I’m really starting to love this dog! He seems to have mostly got the hang of where to poop and I have a theory he pees in the kitchen whenever he’s fed up with me (which is whenever I’ve shouted at him for chewing something he shouldn’t have, like the kitchen units), but the rest of his training is coming along great, and he behaved very well when both P and J took turns walking him home.

And something else tickled me this morning. Looks like I’m a fielder in a virtual cricket team! The team hasn’t got a name yet, but if you hurry over to Dave’s and volunteer to play, you get a chance to show off your wit and thus earn yourself the possibility of becoming club president. It should be fun with Dave’s imagination in charge, and as it’s virtual I’m hoping we’ll soon be wiping the floor with the likes of Freddie Flintoff (though I can think of better things to do with Freddie ;o))

Where to begin?

2006-06-23T19:48:00.000Z

Well I have a headache. And I’ve been having a lot of them lately, not normal ones though, more like someone’s hit me across the back of the head – so I guess I’ve got a nerve trapped. Or maybe it’s stress.

Is stress the same as anxiety? Because that’s what the doctor reckons I’m suffering from. I finally went. Kind of had to, as I couldn’t stop crying, and that tends to worry people after a week or so. Haven’t cried since I started on the drugs though. Either it’s good stuff, or crying for an hour in the doctor’s office got a lot of it out of my system.

And now that I’ve stopped crying, I’m wondering what I was crying about. Well, that’s not entirely true as I still don’t feel far from creating a river, but I just can’t figure out what’s going on with me.

Life is good. In many ways easier than it has been in years. And since I started working out of the house again, I thought I’d been happier, and money’s stopped being a momentous worry ready to drown me. So what the hell is up?

The doctor I spoke with yesterday – who I had never met before – told me, she thought I’m the type of person to believe that everything that isn’t right in my life, is of my own making.

That kind of amuses me. Or maybe it worries me, because I think there’s some truth in it. At least I hope there is. As I like to think I’m a great believer in accepting responsibility for one’s own actions, and if anything, people who blame others for a mess they've caused, annoy me. And I don't see how anyone else made this mess I'm in.

So what was her point? As the way she said it, makes me think she wasn’t paying me a compliment. And if it wasn’t a compliment, does that mean my thinking is warped? Because if it does, then chances are I’m passing it on to my kids, as I’m forever drilling it into them that there are consequences to all our actions…hang on a sec, that can’t be wrong! Shit, maybe it means I’m the only damn sane person about…

Anyway, enough deep thinking, or is that circular thinking? Ugh, either way, I’ve got a headache. And I’m on drugs (yippee, just wish they were stronger). So enough.

But I do want to say a quick thank you, to all of you. Both for the comments here, and the mails you’ve sent. Please know it does mean a lot to me. Very few people in real life know how squiffy I get, and it’s so nice not to have to pretend here – and still you come back. You make me feel very lucky, thank you.

Apologies

2006-06-21T16:09:00.000Z

…for being a useless mare. I seem to be lost.

But I’ll be back, just as soon as I find the right path out of *my* wood (which happens to be tad darker than this one).

Hopefully soon.

There’s nothing more boring than a…

2006-06-13T20:50:00.000Z

…bored person, as my mother used to say. In which case, you may wish to leave now.

My up/down moods of the last few days have been replaced with a restlessness of everything around me. As the school summer term speeds towards its conclusion with its mass of activities, all I can do is sigh. Here we go again.

Of course I daren’t ever say this out loud, or at least not within ear-shot of my mother, as her original warning of boredom is now replaced with ‘You made your own bed!’ Yep, my mom has a mountain of sayings to put me in my place.

And I know I deserve it. Too many kids, too many chores, too many jobs, and all for too many years. This is what I wanted, and it's great to get what you want. Except, it's a bit like a seven year old getting a sweet shop for their birthday, and by the time their eight, they're fat and off chocolate for life. Well maybe not life, but definitely for tonight.

Aren’t I a little ray of sunshine today? And speaking of sunshine, it’s gone. Replaced with the wind and rain, again. Might even get off my butt and put the heating back on. But if I get off my butt I’ll pass the door-frame, and as that needs painting, it’ll bring a pile of guilt. So maybe I’ll sit here a while longer.

Did I tell you I got invited to Prague? But I made the mistake of asking what for (I honestly can’t think why I would want to go, and anyway it would require spending money and children juggling) and so my mother withdrew her offer. Good job really as the timing was horrendous, at the end of Michealmas term, and that’s even busier than this term, so it was never a goer really. But I would like to go away, in fact I think I’d like to be lost somewhere, with no responsibilities or demands. But not Prague, somewhere warm and deserted. Fat chance.

I was also thinking I’d like to go swimming. I can swim, I just don’t ever get the chance, and I’d like to. But we only have two public pools and one is cold and expensive, and the other’s too far to nip to. Excuses, excuses. So I’ll dream on, at least until September (which is fast becoming a mythically era with plenty of spare time as S will have started at big school.)

Back in the real world my life did get a tad better today. The dishwasher was finally fixed, after two months of being on strike. Almost funny really as I arrived home from work to find two men lying on my kitchen floor (my mother had let them in, as she was here watching R for me). They’d taken over the entire kitchen so I couldn’t even make a cup of tea, but they were only here two hours and now we don’t have to do the washing up, so I must let my irritation with them go. (But seeing as this was their third visit I swear it would have been cheaper [and more convenient for me!] for the insurance just to buy me a new machine.)

And I think I’d like to move house. Not this year, as I just couldn’t face it right now, but soon. Maybe. If I get my act together and finish this place. Which at my current rate probably won’t happen for another decade.

Have I mentioned I hate football? There’s yet another match on at the moment. Three a day for anyone who’s counting, which I’m not, but people like to talk about the bloody football. Good grief we’re not even through the first week and I’m sick of it. Though I doubt I’d even notice if it wasn’t for my current restlessness, as it’s only when I’m like this that I need television, for the distraction value.

And talking of distractions, I’ve just started wondering about something. Why do we still call Autumn term, Michaelmas, when we no longer call the Summer term, Trinity?

Umm, and can you tell I’m bored? By the way, it’s probably contagious, so ESCAPE NOW!

My husband sent me this...

2006-06-13T13:28:00.000Z

And if you're wondering, he's a Scot!

40 degrees - Californians shiver uncontrollably.

People in Scotland sunbathe.

35 degrees - Italian cars won't start.

People in Scotland drive with the windows down.

20 degrees - Floridians wear coats, gloves, and wool hats.

People in Scotland throw on shorts and a T-shirt.

15 degrees - Californians begin to evacuate the state.

People in Scotland go swimming in the sea.

0 degrees - New York landlords turn the heat on.

People in Scotland have a last barbi before it gets cold.

-10 degrees - People in Miami are extinct.

People in Scotland lick flagpoles.

-20 degrees - Californians all now live in Mexico.

People in Scotland throw on a light jacket.

-80 degrees - Polar bears begin to evacuate the Artic.

Scottish Boy Scouts postpone winter survival exercise until it gets cold enough.

-100 degrees - Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.

People in Scotland wear a vest and pull down their ear flaps.

-173 degrees - Ethyl alcohol freezes.

People in Scotland get angry 'cos they can't thaw their whisky.

-297 degrees - Microbiotic life starts to grind to a halt.

Scottish cows complain of farmers with cold hands.

-460 degrees - ALL atomic motion stops.

People in Scotland start saying " A bit hill billy ... eh? "

-500 degrees - Hell freezes over.

Scottish people support England in the World Cup

No thunder-storm, but no field trip for me either.

2006-06-12T17:04:00.000Z

R’s at home again today. Again, because I don’t think I mentioned he was home on Friday, though you may remember he went to a sleep-over party on Saturday. I know that doesn’t sound very responsible of me, but the doctor we saw on Friday said R could go if he felt better. And he did, on Saturday.

Unfortunately by Sunday he was much worse (though no one thought to call me to collect him early!), and even a day in bed didn’t help. I was worried he was reacting to the medication as my body is intolerant to many, and figured I should take him back to the doctors. And what a nice doctor we saw. I say that because he made me laugh when P complained R wasn’t so sick he couldn’t still kick and punch him, and the doctor promptly told P he probably deserved it for being a little brother. You should have seen P’s face! Plus this wonderful doctor was thoughtful enough to slash 50% off the bill as it was a return visit – this is my type of doctor, and I’ll be sure to be seeing him again!

But R isn’t good. They’ve changed his antibiotics, given him yet another inhaler, upped his antihistamines and added some steroids. And all that came with a warning that they’d have to see him again in two days if he hasn’t improved, oh and if he gets worse, I’ve got to call them immediately.

So I excused myself from the field trip, as I may have left R for an hour on Friday (to go to work) but I couldn’t leave him half the day today.

I felt bad though. Apparently three other moms had cancelled too and J’s teacher was madly chewing her lip when I explained my problem. But still, J’s home now, having had a nice day with cows who tried to eat her dress, pigs who will eat anything, and chickens which she fell in love with (should be interesting next time I serve one!).

But I did have one major panic today. A friend called and asked me to collect her daughter from school, but when I arrived at the classroom door the teacher told me she’d gone already. I foolishly smiled thinking she was winding me up, but she wasn’t.

Ten minutes of frantic searching ensued, as we looked for the woman who had collected the girl. All to no avail. And then I had to call the mom and admit I’d lost her daughter and had no idea who’d taken her, or where she was.

To say I felt sick is an under statement. As it turned out the meds the mother is taking for her back, play havoc with her mind and she’d asked another woman to collect her daughter too. Phew! And the experience probably only added half a dozen grey hairs.

And we lost a baby bunny *sob*. Kobi found what little remains there were (he was trying to eat them! Ugh, he’s worse than the pigs!!) and I’ve remembered why I’m not a cat person. Poor bunny.

Me and my big mouth!

2006-06-11T16:34:00.000Z

I should have known. Daring to call it summer was a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do! I don’t mind the grey skies, clouds, and sporadic showers we’ve got today, after all it’s a relief to scrub the kitchen floor and not have sweat pouring off.

However, I could do without the thunder storms predicted for tomorrow!

Oh, and apart from the irritation of living the normal stuff of life in the pouring rain, guess what I’m doing tomorrow?

What I should be doing (if I had half a brain) is going to work, where I could oooooo and ahhhhhh at the pretty sky, while siting nice and snug in my cosy little office. But oh no, I had to volunteer to assist on a school field trip.

And yes that would be a literal field.

Feeling hot, hot, hot!

2006-06-10T20:58:00.000Z

I’m better today. Lots! But it’s a mystery as to why, especially after spending this afternoon – the hottest day of the year to date – inside a darkened room, helping at a disco party.

The music was good – if a tad loud – and everything was organised so well the forty-two little darlings had a great time. Except maybe for my two girls, who didn’t dance and followed me around attempting to help. I think it was because they only knew the party girl and her sister.

But I found it fun, and even managed to amuse the DJ when he caught me dancing after stopping the music suddenly to play Statues. Not that it was really dancing – after all, I don’t dance – more an energetic food serving jig.

I also managed to cause an argument between my friend Cass and her husband this morning. As they started shouting at one another I – unsuccessfully – tried to blend with the scenery (damn contemporary homes with their plain walls!) But I was only trying to help. Cass’s husband was taking half the house along with the TV to the party (the footie was on!), which meant they had to take two cars, but Cass had said she wanted to be able to have a drink at the party and didn’t want to drive. So I thought I was being helpful when I offered to take some stuff up for them.

Apparently not. It seems Cass and her husband were going up an hour-and-a-half in advance to set things up, but I couldn’t get up there until half an hour before the party. When Cass said that was alright, her husband wanted to know why he was being dragged up there so early if they could do so much at the last minute. In turn Cass told him to forget it, she wouldn’t have a drink. And so the argument began…

And when I wasn’t causing discontent among my friends, we attended the school fête. Thankfully we only had half an hour free, and after waiting to get a parking space, even that was cut short. Phew.

We also went to see a house this morning, between the swimming and ballet. We’re not really looking to move, but I saw the opening viewing notice in the paper last night and the house looked interesting. It was, and I was very taken with three staircases and the prospect of having enough rooms that there would even been one left over! But it needs a lot of money spending on it. And the location isn’t as good or as private as where we live now. And the garden was huge, but not pretty or practical. So even though it comes with a title we won’t be offering a tender. Good thing really, as our present house isn’t actually finished yet. But I can’t quite forget the potential…

R is also out tonight, staying over at a party. Heaven help us, they’re camping in a back garden and will probably stay up half the night, which in turn will mean he’s foul tomorrow.

But at least tomorrow should be a quiet day. I hope, I really, really, hope!

Sunshine on a rainy day

2006-06-09T15:40:00.000Z

It hasn’t rained this week, guess I might even be brave and call it summer. The rain’s been inside, as in me. I’ve been a totally miserable mare all week. Even the BH commented yesterday that he rarely sees me smile anymore, and one of my friends keeps telling me she’s worried about me. But nothing is different to usual, guess miserable must be my normal.

But I’m not sitting here to moan! Oh hang on, yes I am. Have you heard, the world cup kicks off in less than an hour? Ugh. Four weeks of crowd noise, flag waving, and in depth mind-numbing drivel about men kicking balls. Suppose I should be grateful it only happens every four years. Four years? Can it really be four years since I went through last time?!

The BH has also come up with an idea to enthuse me, get this, he suggests (with a grin!) I find out who’s playing on what day, and then I can prepare a meal from one of the countries playing. Umm, don’t think so somehow, what the heck do they eat in Paraguay anyway?

Let’s move onto to other distractions. A ~~lady~~ woman drove into me at traffic lights the other day. Not a big deal, it happens, and as the damage was minimal I wouldn’t have cared a jot…but for the first words out of her mouth, ‘You must have come backwards!’ On a flat road, when my car’s an automatic? No love, I don’t think so. Bloody impossible if you didn’t know! She managed to wind me up big time, but I walked away grinding my teeth and muttering about ignorant people who can’t face saying the word ‘Sorry’. Bloody, bloody, bloody, never mind.

What else has happened? Oh yes, the BH brushed his teeth last night, thankfully that part isn’t unusual, but he returned to the lounge moaning about the kids playing in the bathroom and soaking the tootpaste tube in mouthwash. Except it wasn’t the kids, and it wasn’t mouthwash. I could have left him in ignorance, but I can’t help but be honest. So I confessed. The tootpaste had fallen into the bath. He didn’t look thrilled and pulled a face, but you should have seen his face when I added it was when I was bathing the dog. Umm, maybe I shouldn’t have owned up.

And talking of the dog *heavy sigh*. I swear that dog gets more stupid each day. The peeing and pooping inside the house is getting worse, not better! My house smells, and when it’s not offensive, it’s bleach. And my car. He hates the car, and ALWAYS poops within minutes of getting in. It’s driving me bonkers. So most of the time Kobi gets left behind. But only most of the time, because he has to get used to the car, plus we’re now attending puppy training. He’s not bad at that, in fact last night he was the star of the class (but that’s only my opinion ;o)).

The girls have also been getting plenty of attention this week. J threw a tantrum on the way to school the other morning when I said I wouldn’t buy her a new skipping rope until she’d tidied her room. I got through the embarrassment of walking into school with a sobbing [obviously spoilt] child, by ignoring it. But then S caught onto the idea, and so proceeded to do the same. I could’ve killed the pair of them, though only figuratively of course.

I also caught a few minutes of Real Desperate Housewives last night. One woman in particular stood out. A career mom, who gave it all up when her second child was born, but nevertheless within the year she’d locked herself in her bedroom for a month and refused to see anyone. Sounds like bliss to me, if I could just be sure someone would take the kids to school.

But I guess if I did that, I’d miss my job. As sad as it is, I really like my job. And my boss thinks I’m good at it too, and even told me so today. In fact he was super nice and was so complimentary my mood has improved greatly. Except I know that’s kind of awful, to get such a boost from someone saying something so simple. Makes me wonder about my balance of sanity.

Oh and I’ve checked about the cat. It was a He, and he’s being claimed! I’m so pleased! Apparently his owners live a good distance away and he’d been missing a long time, so I did enjoy a big smile with the thought of their relief.

Well the sun is shining, and the BH is due home any minute to watch the first match, suppose I should make it look like I’ve done something around here today.

7th June, again!

2006-06-07T09:51:00.000Z

I seem to have surprised myself, as I never thought I’d continue this page for an entire year! Yep, today’s my blog’s first anniversary.

Not sure what to say about my year’s worth of waffle, though I think one of the biggest delights of this place has been the friends I’ve made. And if you’re wondering if I’m talking about you, then I probably am ;o) And even if you're not wondering, chances are I consider you special. The fact that you return to offer your advice and thoughts, whilst sharing your life, is a gift that’s surprised me and for which I’m truly grateful for.

And thank you also to the lurkers, I may not know who you are, but the fact that you come back day after day, hopefully means you find some delight or amusement here, and I take that as a compliment.

I also owe Doug a big thank you, who’s not only a friend but also the person responsible for me getting into this. If he’d realised he wasn’t allowing anonymous comments then I may never had signed up to Blogger, so thank you Doug, it’s mostly fun and definitely good for my sanity.

A whole year! Where do the days go?!

Exorcising a ghost

2006-06-04T16:47:00.000Z

I often forget birthdays. No-one’s is ‘safe’ for me to remember, except maybe for three of the kids who were thoughtful enough to be born within four weeks of each other, and between that and their incessant reminders – so far I haven’t missed any. But everyone else’s, including mine own, can too easily be forgotten as I realise too late that the weeks rush past.

So why then, do I remember hers is today? In fact I know last year it played on my mind so much, it was a prompt to begin blogging in some hope of putting her ghost to rest. Some years I wonder if I would remember her birthday, if she was still alive. I can’t even remember her exact death date, though I know it was the first Tuesday of January when I was pregnant with P. He’s eight this year.

And though I was upset at the time, I’m glad she’s gone.

She wanted more than I could give. When you’re adopted, you’re told to be careful when searching for birth mothers, as a lot of them aren’t necessarily thrilled when you get in touch. It's what I expected, but not what I got.

My quest to know where I had arrived from began when I was twelve. I was in a restaurant with my parents on a boarding school exeat, when I told them I wanted to change my name. With some daft belief that they might take me seriously, I had just informed them I was now to be known as Michelle. My mother burst into tears and ran from the table whilst I was left with my father shouting at me about what a stupid girl I was.

Turned out Michelle was my first name, the one she’d given me.

I could describe the years of teenage moodiness and try blaming them on her, but in truth, I never much cared that I’m adopted. I’m of the belief it takes a darn sight more than giving birth to make you a mother, and my adopted mom feels like my mom, and though my curiosity demanded I find the woman who had given birth to me, I didn’t particularly want an ongoing relationship with this stranger as I felt no real loss or void in my life. Though I also can’t deny I imagined some romantic scenario or two, where I would find some noble reason as to why I had been cast aside with the possibility of a fairytale ending.

For several reasons asking my parents about her was difficult, and even when I dared, their answers proved fruitless for any definite facts. So I considered going to the adoption services and asking if she’d been in touch, wanting to know how I was. But that was tricky too, as firstly if the birth mother didn’t want anything to do with her child – I had no recourse! All the answers I wanted depended solely upon her whim and I wasn’t in the mood for that, and then the next step was even harder. If the birth mother agreed to meet with me and talk, the adoption agency would first want my parents and I to go through counselling to make sure it didn’t have a detrimental affects on us. Ha. Detrimental would have been an under-statement, it would have destroyed my father. And then there’s the age thing, I wasn’t yet eighteen.

So armed with knowing where I was born and knowing I’d been given Michelle as a first name, I hit the Birth, Deaths & Marriages register. It should have been impossible I suppose. But it wasn’t. When I left after just one day of work I knew my full name, and more importantly, her name. Of course it was no great surprise to find I didn’t have a father.

It was a couple of years before I dared to act but my first call, some two years later, was at the address she’d given. Unfortunately no-one was home, but luck was on my side as it was a row of terraces complete with nosy neighbours. She hadn’t lived there for over fifteen years, and all they could say was her father had been a Headmaster who then became a social worker.

Just finding this sliver of information carried me until I turned twenty-one. And anyway, it had taken me some time to figure out what i could do next. I went through every phone book for the UK and copied out every phone number listed with her then surname.

I remember sitting at the dining room table with the pages of numbers in front of me, daunted by the length and wondering how on earth I was going to find the needle in the haystack. Figured I’d start at the bottom, had to be last as life likes to be a bitch and watch you pull your bloody hair out before letting you get to where you want.

On the third call I spoke with a girl who thought I might be trying to find her aunt, but she was young and couldn’t tell me this woman’s number or married surname. But her Gran was due any minute and I she said to call back in half an hour.

That was scary as it was the old woman who answered the phone, and she wasn’t giving out her daughter’s details without knowing who she was speaking with. I’m not a good liar, but even I can surprise myself sometimes and I spun her a line about living in their old road and going to school with her. It worked and the old woman gave me her contact details.

Then I did nothing for two months.

It was 14th February and when after a few questions, I said it was Michelle calling. She dropped the phone and began screaming. I could hear her running from the room and shouting at someone that it was her baby on the phone.

It was awful. She was so happy, so pleased I had found her. She was so sorry, and she’d never stopped thinking about me. Fate had been cruel and she couldn’t have more children, she waited for me.

But I didn’t want her and some huge emotional outpouring. But I also couldn’t tell her that.

At first I played along. We met and I stayed with her. I got my answers. No fairy-tale, just boring and sordid from a woman who had once been a silly teenager with some daft notion of taking another woman’s husband.

And the guilt. She felt so guilty. I can’t tell you how many times I tried to tell her it was all okay, I wasn’t angry or resentful at her for her decisions and there was nothing to feel guilty over.

But she never shut up, always the same going over and over why she’d done it. How it wasn’t her fault. In fact it was everyone’s fault but hers. I listened as she said it was her father who taken me, it was his fault, but her mother had let him, so it was her fault, then there was the drunk Granny screaming ‘Get that bastard out of this house!’. But ultimately, it was his fault, the man she’d loved. He’d said he’d left his wife and kids, and she wasn’t the only woman to believe him, oh-no his secretary had also been left holding a baby when he’d returned to Europe to spend Christmas with his family.

And he’d made himself quite clear by taking everything when he went. And I mean everything, she didn’t even have a picture of him. Still, I got his name.

For a couple of years I managed to make her happy while keeping her at arms length, but I could never be sure how carried away she’d get and had to lie about where I was getting married for fear she’d show up and cause a scene. Because there was one small detail I haven’t mentioned, she was a drunk. I didn’t actually realise it at the time, at the time I figured she felt less guilty when she had a drink before calling me, and maybe that’s why she was always getting hysterical and teary. But it was only after she’d died that her husband told me she’d been reliant on alcohol since before I was born. Though chances are, the existence of me made it worse.

During the last six months of her life we didn’t talk as often, this was after we’d had a row the summer before. She kept calling R her grandson, and I kept asking her not to. In the end I lost my temper and reminded her what giving up a baby meant. She asked why we stayed in touch if that was how I felt, and I told her it was because she had managed to make me feel guilty for not caring enough, and because of that guilt I stayed in the hope of alleviating hers.

Things were never the same. We kept in touch and she knew about me being pregnant with P, I remember like my father, she hoped P was going to a girl; but she didn’t really talk anymore. I suppose she’d given up. She drunk herself to death. Her husband told me she knew what was happening to her body but carried on ignoring the doctors advice. She didn’t tell anyone, and swore her husband to secrecy. It was a shock to her family as well.

Her husband was good to me in retrospect, and I’ve always supposed she didn’t tell him about our row as I imagine he would have been angry with me for hurting her so.

Over the years I’ve swung back a forth about how I feel about her. We were different, too different to ever be friends. And I never felt any connection, in fact she irritated me a lot. But my guilt has stayed strong. I meant everything to her, and all I wanted was some answers from her. As a baby I ruined her life once, and finding her again just seemed to cause fresh wounds. I figure I pretty much killed her.

And when I’m not feeling guilty, I’m glad. Not for her death, I never wanted that, but that’s she gone and I don’t have to deal with her anymore. But then her birthday arrives and I feel bad, like she should be here so I could send her a card or something. Ironic really, as I bet she felt like that on many of my birthdays too.

Today and she would have been fifty-eight.

P.S. I've never told this story in full before, and I'm not yet sure I feel better for it. And having just read it though, bet you're thinking you wish you hadn't stopped by! Turns out I'm at least glad this one's finally written :o)

More than you wanted to know…

2006-06-01T17:24:00.000Z

Thanks to Kirsty, I’m getting to do a meme on six strange facts about me. Personally speaking I consider this a hard task (to come up with six), however the BH has arrived home from work and is busy reeling off suggestions (though by now, he should know when it’s a good idea to stop!)

1. I believe the earliest memory I have is of the pre-adoption centre I was placed in, at just a couple of months of age. Didn’t realise where or when the memory came from until I described it to my mother and she recognised the things I recall.

2. I can remember my last death.

3. I fell in love with my husband at an exact moment and knew that I would marry him, but it was several more days before he kissed me (I can be nice, as he’s finally shut up talking about things he thinks are strange about me!)

4. When gazing at the heavens I enjoy feeling insignificant and minute both in time and space. Didn’t used to when I was younger, but the feeling is a comfort now.

5. There is no physical type I’m attracted to. Though wide strong forearms are a favourite of mine, and tight curls are not, beyond those, anyone may appeal. (And even they’re not set in stone ;o))

6. Today I want to cry. Lots, and without reason.

You know now I’m doing this I can think of a fair few more (though I’m ignoring the BH’s suggestions which include daft things like my dancing, running, and ability to reverse!) but I’d better obey the rules and stop here.

But I do get to pass along the joy to six others! I chose Tim-tambolini, rdl, Dave, Sam, Daisy, and Karen.

And whilst I’m mentioning Daisy, I’d also like to say a big thank you for sending me a sexy* postcard when away on your hols (I think she knows of my like for wide forearms ;o)) Looks like a Brit abroad!

* Daisy's own word! I swear!!

Gardens and alligators

2006-05-30T13:58:00.000Z

I don’t like alarm clocks. They scare me awake. And it’s just not right waking up with a gasp of fear each morning. Of course the BH sleeps right through it and only wakes when his tea arrives, which is kind of ironic on days like today when I didn’t have to get up. And then I have to face the kitchen and Kobi’s playpen, and I’m not even going to describe how un-funny that is each morning, before I’ve even had my cup of tea.

I don’t really mind these things – once I’m awake. But I could definitely do without them as the start to each day.

Having said that, I did have a couple of days without the alarm clock, and wonder of wonders, yesterday morning without beginning my day with a shock, I could remember my dream. And it was normal too! Well, as normal as one can suppose, not dreaming anyone else’s dreams. And whilst I’m wondering about normal, do the people in your life stay the same in your dreams? Because I don’t seem to dream about people I know, least not in their regular form. Take the one yesterday, I had weird parents, and I mean really weird, they dressed in Shakespearean garb and walked around golf courses with an entourage of thespians. I kept trying to talk to them, but they were always striding off to the next hole and could only manage a cheery wave, so I kept myself busy rescuing a baby frog and trying to stop Kobi annoying the alligator. Yep, Kobi managed a star performance as himself! But he’s not a person, and I’m not surprised he’s elbowed himself into my dreams and has me chasing about there too. It never stops in the waking hours. In fact just yesterday, when I was strimming the road side of the hedge, the stupid mutt decides to find me by pushing his way through the hedge and leaping onto to road. It may not be a busy road but the garden is a good four feet higher than the road, and so Kobi is again limping and on painkillers.

On the upside Kobi is behaving better. And I mean after Saturday when he ripped holes in everyone’s clothes except mine (well he’s not totally stupid!). We also watched Dog Borstal last night and we now posses a shock bottle, and it works just as well in real life as it does on the programme! Doesn’t he look pleased…

But back to the gardening. Having been working on the front garden for the past couple of weekends, it again looks near decent (almost good from a distance ;o)) and I kinda made a promise to one of you about posting some pictures – however – the BH will be less than amused with me, so they’ll only be up for a few days.

Here’s the side patch which meets the road:

We used to have a wonderful Willow down by the road and blocking any view of us (and which I really must replace!) but it came down in high winds the Christmas before last. Actually that was quite amusing, you see I heard it come down late one night, but when I looked about the dark garden I couldn’t see which tree had come down so figured it was one up in the Christmas tree field (we adjoin government property and they grow their own huge fir trees). The following day was a Sunday and we had a lazy start, but at about ten am the BH tells me to come look in the road and there we found our poor willow. Of course the road was totally blocked, but no one had thought to beep their horn or heaven forbid walk up the driveway and tell us, no, in fact a friend called later that day to say he’d hit his car on our wall when trying to turn around because of the blockage. Anyway back to the tree, I managed to get hold of some official and he came around and ummed and ahhed about closing the road (?!!), and just as I was telling him the road was little used and quiet, an old fifties car ambled around the bend. Then another. And another. In fact they didn’t stop as it was a car rally! I can laugh now, but I can only imagine how stupefied I looked at that moment.

But back to the garden. Here’s the lawn I’m always moaning about:
but this picture doesn’t capture it’s steepness!

And you have to remember on an itty-bitty island where space is scarce, our garden is classed as big. And it sure feels big when you’re the gardener. Which would leads me to post pictures of the back areas, but I’m ashamed to admit I can’t. Seriously, as the bloody garden is so over grown.

Having said that here’s some pictures of the paths leading up.

You can tell they’re paths because in the left picture you can see the rope handle (see? squint towards the left!), and in the second… well, you’ll have to trust me, but here are steps under there. Maybe later in the summer, when I've found some time, I'll post 'after' pictures too.

So you can see in truth, I do like my garden, it has so many pretty little hideaways,

I just wish it didn’t grow so fast so I could keep up and enjoy it properly!

--x--

Please note, we don't have alligators hiding in the garden here, or anywhere, and I have no idea why I was dreaming about them. If you can figure out something deep and meaningless, feel free ;o)

Should I be irritated, or amused with myself?

2006-05-26T20:23:00.000Z

Yet again I wrote a post, which I’m not going to post.

It was long, and so I bet a few of you are relieved ;o)

But I have to say YIPEEEEEEEE!

Come September, R’s changing schools.

And would you believe

2006-05-25T20:38:00.000Z

I (also) had a visitor today who found me by googling, bedroom stripping techniques. I’m third on a list of 216,000! Wow, after seeing some of the other choices on offer, I’m not sure what to say. Except. I’m sorry to disappoint, as I’ve certainly never divulged my bedroom stripping techniques. Not here anyway ;o) Oh hang-on. The page it took them to, was about wallpapering the bedroom! Maybe I’m judging too fast and they weren’t disappointed after all. Oops, that’s *my* mind, isn’t it?

A visitor came calling

2006-05-25T20:09:00.000Z

You may remember in yesterdays post I mentioned coming across a grass snake while cutting the lawn. There was also another visitor about ten minutes before the snake, a cat.

Those who know me, know I’m not a fan of cats. It’s not that I hate them, I just don’t like their killing habits and they tend to make me nervous as I’m never sure what they’ll do next.

So when this huge orange cat appeared from the bushes I shushed it away with my usual hiss and claps.

But this cat came back.

Late last night, as the wind howled and the rain couldn’t figure out which direction to fall in, the BH told me there was a cat meowing loudly as it hid under my car. And being that this daft beast was daring enough to return, I figured it must be in some sort of trouble, so I went down and was nice for a change. The poor thing was wet and starving, and very friendly.

Well I might not like the pesky creatures very much, at the same time I’m not heartless; plus did I mention, this cat was very, very friendly? So I could hardly turn it away.

I watched it wolf down a packet of Ryker’s expensive dog food half expecting it to take off again when full, but it didn’t go, instead it was even more friendly. So I made it a bed in the garage and invited it to stay for the night.

When I got up this morning and headed down to see if our visitor was still enjoying the room service, I wasn’t too surprised to see it had gone. But I figured it was worth a ‘Here, Puss, Puss,’ to see if it was within earshot and fancied some breakfast. Sure enough a pair of eyes appeared from the darkness and it came bounding over to inspect the warmed chicken on offer.

I got a better look at it in the daylight (though I didn’t manage to figure out if it was a girl, or a lad, without his lads) I could see it’d been loved at some point, but at the same time it was obvious this fella had been without attention for quite a while. And it’d messed itself in the night, which of course set me off worrying it was my fault for giving the poor thing dog food, and when I think about it, way too much food too. It stank. And I mean it really stank. And I can tell you that even without much of a sense of smell!

Anyways I couldn’t do much as breakfast time was calling, and then the school runs, and then work. I didn’t get home until lunchtime. And this time I really was surprised when it appeared yet again, being just as friendly.

But I was starting to see a pattern here. This cat was way too friendly! And I can’t have that. What if I go getting attached to the thing?! I felt awful making the call. But it’s for the best. And anyway it may turn out it's got an appalling sense of direction, and someone's missing it.

So I fed it the remained of his breakfast chicken (BTW, how often are you supposed to feed cats?) and we had a final grand petting session.

But we were outside, and sooner than I expected, the Animal Shelter’s van showed up. And as soon as the cat heard the noise of the van, it took off!

And it wasn’t coming back. Least not whilst the man was there, so I accepted a cage and some proper cat food (tuna fish! I should have thought!!).

I gave it ten minutes after the man had left and then went out and called for Puss, Puss. It came bounding from the bushes!

I felt like such a traitor as I emptied the cat food into a bowl inside the cage. It trusted me. And I darn near had to squash that cage door closed, that bloody cat was so big (it was easily as large as Kobi! Though obviously skinnier.)

The man from the Shelter laughed when he was back within half-an-hour, said the cat must like me. But at least the cat was still friendly. Even from behind bars it purred like a mad thing whenever a finger poked through for a stroke. So friendly in fact, that the man from the shelter was kind enough to reassure me it wouldn’t have any trouble finding a new home, should it not be on the missing list.

And he said I could call next week to make sure things were on the up for the fella.

I don’t even like cats, I swear.

I got tagged

2006-05-24T21:17:00.000Z

rdl tagged me for a meme.

An A-Z Meme

accent: Depends where *you’re* from! None, except maybe a bit proper ;o) if you’re from around here, and to everyone else probably very British.

booze: None. Teatotal, except when we throw a party and I get to make-up (and drink) some Bermuda Rum Punch.

chore I hate: Driving. May not be classed as a chore by some, but it’s the first thing I’d give up in my life, if I could.

dogs/cats: Everyone knows the answer to this! But for the record, insane ten week old yellow Labrador dog.

essential electronics: Computer with internet access.

favourite perfume/cologne: Delicious & Jadore.

gold/silver: Silver in colour, but I’ll take platinum please.

hometown: Since I no longer give exact detail, I’ll say it’s fourteen miles off of France.

insomnia: Bouts.

job title: Mum, administrator, taxi-driver*, child-psychologist*, dog walker. (*Alright, these come under the Mum title!)

kids: Too many! Not really, just had a hectic day. Four.

living arrangements: The house from Hell, otherwise described as butt-ugly bungalow with ridiculously overgrown garden.

most admired trait: Umm, I’ve sat looking at the screen for quite a while with this one. I was going to write something flip, like: Getting up each morning to face yet another day! but decided not to. I’m honestly not sure if I have an admirable trait, I like to think I might; I do try and please others, and I do attempt to be a better person each day. But then I have a bad day and I’m a selfish cow, and I reckon a real trait doesn’t vanish when things get tough. So let’s just say, I’m working on some!

number of sexual partners: Ever? Not telling. But for the past eighteen years, one.

overnight hospital stays: The babies. Got out after ten hours with the first, but the second ruined the record by requiring three nights in hospital, same with the third, but down to two nights for the fourth, thank goodness (I’m not a fan!)

phobia: Spiders, and daddylong-legs. Not a big fan of snakes either (and I found a grass-snake today! Instead of killing it (I don’t have it in me ;o)) I’ve boxed it up and plan to give it to J’s teacher tomorrow, as it’s Creepy-Crawly week).

quote: The worst is not
So long as we can say, "This is the worst." William Shakespeare

religion: Raised Church of England, mostly, with some Catholic tendencies. However, I’m not much of anything anymore.

siblings: One brother. But here’s another however: I know that I have at least three biological sisters and ‘one other’, out there somewhere (but that’s only if you take blood to mean anything.)

time I usually wake up: Depends on my stress level. When running on high, I can be up from 4:30; when on low 8-9ish if I'm allowed.

unusual talent: Geeze! It’s bloody depressing when some stupid meme throws TWO questions at you which are hard to answer! I’m racking my brains, and only two things come to mind, though neither too riveting: I can reverse (really well!). And you know that thing that dangles down the back of your throat? Well, I can wiggle mine up and down at will! It may not sound like much, but my Doctor was ~~amused~~ impressed.

vegetable I refuse to eat: Peas. Don’t like them, and they’re impossible to eat politely anyway. Oh, and I can’t eat mashed potato. I don’t have a problem with the taste, I just can’t swallow the stuff without retching (it’s all the fault of Smash from my school days)

worst habit: Smoking. In truth I rather like the habit, but I worry about the health side.

x-rays: Chest.

yummy foods I make: According to my eldest, potato gratin (though it takes too long to make!) and the kids seem to like my cakes and stuff.

zodiac sign: Sagittarius.

I had fun doing this, but rather than tagging anyone in particular (I know you're all busy ;o)), I'm going to ask you to pick the first letter of your name and answer it in the comments! Unless you want to do the whole thing, in which case feel free...

Lentula Vitae

wow

There goes the year...

A high note

How do I find myself in situations like this?!

What's a mom to do?

My week from hell

Long week.....

I was just going through some old emails.....

What is this? Gang up on Jona day??

Did I mention…

Alive, kicking, and I’m a pedant!

So, here we are again!

Guess what…

You might think...

Secrets!

One of those weeks

Guess what?

Cakes, cakes, and…

Exactly 5 years!

I’m not happy with it!

Where to start?

Here I am!

Oh yeah! I’m off to London

Double quick post!

Someone should have told me! (Or maybe I should have been paying attention!!)

Leaps and bounds!

Eaten alive!

Bad days and good…

Getting ratty!

No rest for the wicked…

Conversations from last night…

Perfecting my smile

I just have to tell you…

So

Just call me Slack Jack!

The problem with never stopping…

‘Twas the night before Christmas…

Something to write about!

Slowing down

Just call me evil! tired.

…here I am again.

Aren’t we doing well?!

48 Hours Later

And, we’re off!

This isn’t working

Much ado

The Monday Blues

Bloody children! Who’d have them?!!

Shhhh, I'm hiding!

Choices!

Here I am, AGAIN!

I should have known

Here I am!

Ten to the dozen

The ups with the downs

Changing habits

Don’t like the sound of this

A different day

Stepping forward

And suddenly…

Lazy Days

Oh joy…

There ain’t no pleasing me!

You stinker!

Blonde? I should be platinum!

I’m finding today hard

Becoming blonder

Just being lazy…

I want you to be honest and tell me if it’s *me*

Oh goody, it’s Monday. Again.

A day off

Where to begin?

Apologies

There’s nothing more boring than a…

My husband sent me this...

No thunder-storm, but no field trip for me either.

Me and my big mouth!

Feeling hot, hot, hot!

Sunshine on a rainy day

I want you to be honest and tell me if it’s me