The She Devil.

Thats....ME! Saints alive I am mad this week. No particular reason that I can put my finger on ( and anyway if I could find it I would much rather put my fist on it, how would putting a finger on it make me feel in the least bit better?)
I'm still kind of poorly with a revolting ulcerated throat, not a bit of energy ( except to yell, it would seem) and rubbery bones.....I imagine I must look a bit drunk most of the time as I find myself lurching to the side when actually all I want to do is stand straight ( liar that I am , I want to be lying down, very quietly) but I don't think being poorly is making me irritable.
Noise. I hate it. From dripping taps ( why can't anyone turn the damn shower off properly anyway) to teenagers music...( At the risk of sounding like my nana who I could have throttled if ever she was staying on' top of the pops 'night) ..that's NOT music, is it, that they listen to? My nan used to lament about the fact that our songs had no story to them but Lordie, if Sophie's stuff has a story I hope I never hear it because I swear to Gordon that it would be a tale about some miserable sod with no ear for a tune and no home to go to because it's all kind of yelled out monotone der de der blah blah with the only words clear enough to be actually understood beginning with 'F' and how long does it last? I try to be a bit hip and tell myself to grit my teeth as it surely must be over soon but it never is...please tell me it's just one long drone by the same person ( who can tell if it's man or woman, mutant probably,) because if there are more than one of them churning out the same stuff there is some huge problem out there that no-one has thought about and it really ought to be thought about and dealt with.
Then we have the 'mum'. " yes?" 'MUM' "YES?" . 'MUM' "WHAT?!?!?!?!?" I think that rather than just breathe out, my kids breathe in and on the exhale comes the word MUM. They don't want me, don't need anything but just have the inexpicable need to say the word. I bellowed
" WHAT?!" in Woolworths last week because I had answered "yes" at least 5 times to the monotonous repetition of "mum" without being told what the request /need / desire was...it was only AFTER I had bellowed in frustration that I realised I hadn't brought any of my kids out with me! On a par with the excited yelling of "ooh TRAIN" only to remember that you're with a 20 year old not a 3 year old, and yes, I've done that too.
I was in an interview last week ( not an important one thank the Lord) when I was asked if I lived in the town " no, but not far away" as I answered, I quickly offered up a silent prayer that I wouldn't be asked where I lived.....ha! Too bad! " Where abouts do you live?"
Do you know what I had to answer, because my poor, frazelled 'mummed' to death brain had completely let go of the name of where I live? " Up that hill" I swear I am not lying, not even exaggerating for the sake of a good read. " Up that hill" Funny in itself without even knowing that the town we live in has at least 5 million hills in it. Bless his face though, he let it go and didn't ask which hill, probably in case I dragged him to a window to show him roughly which hill I live up.
It's the noise. You know when you've been to a nightclub and you come out into the night air and your ears are ringing? Mine do that when the boys go to bed..until Sophie and Jordan get in, they've usually had about 4 hours to relax and rest up and are just beginning to feel normal and then in come the unable to whisper or close doors quietly, teenagers.....I am touched in a very tired way that my children love to tell me everything and even at 6' 5" get that kind of jiggedy excitement when recounting a tale, but at midnight after a day that began at 6 and won't end again until 2-3am it's nigh on impossible to react with equal enthusiasm to a story about Andy who was the manager of ( hmm what was the name of that nightclub? nope, it's gone) and of whom everyone is in awe and who has got a mean punch ....or to skip with glee or horror at a tale of how Emma is well pissed off with Katie who was telling Chloe about how Emma said to Kim, who's got a well fit boyfriend and has been going out with him for 4 months but it's well tight that she puts him before her friends because everyone knows that your mates come first and everyone is saying that one of these days she'll be sorry she dissed her mates for some boy.....
I sort of listen and I look at these faces and tell myself very quietly, in my head, ( my in the head voice is the nicest, quietest voice , one just like the one I long for my children to discover and use) that there are mothers in this world who have no idea where there kids are, who have lost children and who would give their souls to be bored rigid with such drivel.
When it's quiet I loathe myself for such behaviour as I have displayed in the last 2 days, I vow that tomorrow I will try harder and just be patient. Tomorrow comes and I stagger out of my room and it's a lovely room...dark and peaceful and so welcoming, it is my refuge and my comfort......and BAM!!!! "MUM!" and we're off, my limpets are right there and they are so pleased to see me they cling right to my side and they NEEEED me.
I have to take a quiet break or three in the day when I just go in my room and breathe. When I crawl into bed at night I have to touch H's back and listen to him breathe and just in soaking in the quiet and his sounds I somehow gather the strength and courage to do it again. I just hope that tomorrow I can do it a bit more cheerfully.