oh what a beautiful morning....

It might be overcast and even drizzling but today is a hap hap happy day in the household....no time for details as yet but as well as some marvellous and uplifting news of the financial kind, today is the day, after much complication that the stroller is arriving!! WHOOHOO!
I hope I haven't jinxed that now, the whole thing has been fraught with bloody idiocies and the gremlins have been shooting out of the woodwork but oh be still me heart maybe my true love is on it's way!

The joys of womanhood.

I've written that title and can't quite think how to carry on except to say this will be about PMS / PMT whatever you call it depending on where you live.
I didn't used to be affected too harshly by the meanness of P.M anything, tension, syndrome or stress, just used to get on with it, either happy I wasn't pregnant or sad I wasn't pregnant.
Suddenly, I find myself in a warped new world every 4 weeks.....not fun for me and probably not fun for anyone I live with but lets face it who the hell cares when you're about to explode?
That water retention is something else, I am suprised that my family can't hear my every cell filling up with water, I swear I can feel it, shhhhhhhhwishhhhh bloat, bloat, swell, bloat. With it comes an undeniable feeling of 'filling up' emotionally......I am a human version of one of those fake thermometer things that charities stick on walls to show how much they are receiving, only I'm not getting any sweet little felt pen mercury I am getting boiling and bubbling RAGE ......No kidding, my normal reasonable and, in my opinion, somewhat doormatty type personality, begins a terrifying decline into purple faced, head exploding, please let me get out of this car and punch the smarmy grin off your face, kind of fury.
On a day to day basis I do pretty well in NOT jumping from my elderly people carrier and ramming my fist into the face of total idiots who obviously have never read the part in the highway code explaining that 43 year old women with mental health issues, PMS and a BIG, heavy car that is worth very little in monetary terms, although very dear to my heart, should be given the right of way at all times, don't blow your horn if she knows ( even if you don't) that she can easily make it before you can, don't make the rude hand gestures if she decides that she has sat waiting long enough, thankyou, for inconsiderate men in flash cars to let her out and makes up her mind that she is damn well going right NOW, so get the hell out of the way.
I do OK at that but I'm here to admit that I am on a thin string where the kids are concerned. You all know how adored Isaac is and for 3 weeks out of the month he is openly adored , a couple of days a month he gets marginally less adoration and the rest, well he's lucky if he gets through the day without seeing my ears bleed and the top of my head explode.
He is divine and I understand that he has so many issues and fears to contend with but let me tell you, when you wake up feeling at least 100lbs heavier with water bloat, your face looks like some braille writer has written ( s'cuse me mum) F**KING HELL where's the Oxy 10? from brow to chin. Your ears are picking up every sound from here to Texas even though it would appear the rest of the world has gone totally deaf , because every request, no matter how simple or easily understood is ignored by one and all (unless it is screamed with such velocity as to cause curtains to open by themselves. ) when you feel like that, it seems that the rituals of an aspergers child are sent for no other reason than to test every raw nerve in your body. Picture this.....
6.30am, leave bedroom after customary 4 hours ( if I'm lucky) sleep.
" Good morning my Isaac"
" It's nurfery today?"
" It IS,how wonderful is that? Not yet though because it's very early"
" Me go a nurfrey me no want snack, me put lellow ba on piano"
"yep, you're a star, Jenny is thrilled that your blanket stays on the piano"
" neese my cloves?"
"yes, they are your clothes, but you don't need to get dressed yet because...."
" Oh me no want nat shirt, me want number 10 shirt, me hate nem jeans me want light jeans"
"well, you wore your number 10 shirt and your light jeans yesterday and they are dirty so these are the clothes you are wearing today, you like these clothes" ( oh please not today my head will burst if i have to do this today)
" WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
BUT ME HATE NEM CLOVES!!ME LUFF MY NUMBER 10 SHIRT AND MY LIGHT JEANS!"
and this goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on, whilst this is going on I am reconnecting with every scrap of religion I ever had and praying that it will stop soon, I ponder the reality of there actually being 'angels above us,their silent notes taking' and asking if it IS true, could they put down their pencils for just a minute or three and wave whatever they wave ( or am I thinking fairies here? who cares just send either) and persuade Isaac that actually the stripey shirt HE chose only last week is a nice shirt, a kind shirt, it has had it's tags cut out so that they won't scrape the skin off his neck, it has been ironed and softened and lovingly washed and stroked and folded ready for wearing....the jeans Jordan bought him are still great jeans, he wore them for weeks saying over and over that he luff neese jeans......what happened? What did the nasty jeans do while I wasn't looking?
I know that I have a PMS face and I can feel that I am the twin of Miss Trunchball, scowling face and thundering walk but am powerless to change it, the best I can do is say " not a good time to irritate me, stay away and leave me to be quiet if you know what's best!"
Yikes....it's almost enough to make me look forward to the menopause, except that brings mood swings and all kinds of other delights too...oh the joys of being a woman, at least there is one consolation, I don't have to be married to one, now that could well be MUCH worse! H is very smart, he has learned that one week a month I am right, whatever I say, do or ask I am right.Clever man.

Where am I ???

How completely bizarre! You all know I am Nighttime Nelly with my insomnia and twitching legs my eyes rarely study the inside of their lids before 2 am......this evening the sandman came by 9pm....I was struggling to keep awake and found myself tucked up and cosy on my new feather pillows by 9.30pm. Out like a light, sleeping like a baby, snug as a bug.....til just after midnight and PING wide awake.....and confusion reigns!
Freaky to wake up after nearly 3 hours and find it is a good hour and a half before the time you usually go to sleep, at first I felt so out of whack I had no idea where I was or what was happening, after a few minutes I found myself feeling almost euphoric, facing my usual routine of blog writing, reading and channel skipping ( that joy to follow, trauma, life in the ER is on at 1am, nothing like some blood and guts and gratuitous moaning to aid one's slumber.) with a somewhat refreshed feeling of having had a nice nap.
I hope I am not so refreshed that I feel any compulsion to do ironing or anything, that's a bit worrying, but I shall do my utmost to fight off any such urges, especially as H seems to be going through a laundry loving phase lately, barely a day passes without me seeing lines of washing blowing in the breeze and him sweating over the steam iron, I find myself rather fond of little piles of beautifully pressed, wind blown laundry sitting on my bed. I should hate to make him feel he isn't doing a splendid job by muscling in on his new found territory.
My Isaac is having a great phase this week......he is almost showing off, at speech therapy he whispered to the beloved Beverley that he hates the waving song as it is too loud, can she sing it super softly ( thing it thuper thoftly at me) so at the end when she had BYE BYE Cameron, Emily, Gavin, Lewis and Lottied at louder than loud volume she said "there, now we sang that very loudly but now we are going to sing it again very very quietly...who hasn't had the bye bye song?" and my Isaac.....stood up and walked to the front where they whispered the hated bye bye song to him and he grinned from ear to ear!!
He even seems to be enjoying the activities, helped I'm sure by the monotonous routine that has me losing the will to live, I expect he finds that so comforting it has to help him like it all, his need for a blue chair is pandered to and the fact that they begin by doing puzzles is the very best way to get him involved.
I love the fact that all the people who look after Isaac, actually visit all the other places he goes, so his speech therapist has been here and to nursery ( What Belerfy doing at nurfrey?!) The health visitor has been to nursery too, she's been here a few times to visit. Someone from nursery is going to sit in in one of his speech therapy lessons to see how lively he is there ...it's so reassuring that they all see him in the different settings and get to see for themselves how he is in each place.
Great news too is that he has been awarded disability allowance. This isn't a means tested allowance, it is available to all people with disabilities, after vigorous testing and checking with everyone involved the benefit is awarded to anyone deemed disabled in a way that affects their normal every day living. It certainly helps with the cost of travelling to so many appointments etc and is also there to pay for any extra activites that may be needed...not to mention buying two or more of the clothes that Isaac latches onto so that we can be sure he has them available!
He is braver at nursery and talks to all the teachers now, he whispers and still won't eat the snack or have a drink but when I pick him up he is desperate to tell them so many things, it seems as though he longs to talk but can't quite manage it until I am there with him and then he tries to gabble it all out from behind me! Very sweet.
Sophie has a boyfriend, after days of nail biting trauma and drama she is now Coca's girlfriend, marvellous.......I shan't think about why he is called Coca, I shall merely assume he likes fizzy drinks and hope I am correct.
Jordan hasn't got a job and seems to be very happy about that, he left the Plough Inn as chef to take up as a scaffolder ( sensible enough swap for an 18 year old I suppose) having been promised such high dreams he would need said scaffolding to reach them all....but then he found that said promises were so high, in fact pie in the sky high, that he is without employment. As he is 18 and he has worked full time in the most exceptional and mature way since he was 16...I am allowing him the shortest spurt of teenagedom, he is sleeping til 2pm, waking up and lolling about ( with the odd burst of culinary energy when prompted)and going out until 4am. I have begun to start whispering parentlike reminders that actually it is only possible to loan him money if he has some way to pay it back and although I am so impressed with his slimlike yet incredibly versatile mobile phone I shall in no way feel compelled to pay the bill and Oh....his cable bill is here....so he is coming down from his "isn't it great to be a teen" cloud and slowly, although I hope painlessly beginning to think about actually going for a new job. Very good. On that note, I am off to spend some time with the remote control and see what I can find to watch at this late hour.

Just gotta love it when....

..........you find a good bargain!

I found great big juicy sirloin steaks for £1 each! If that wasn't good enough, imagine saying to your 18 year old " There are steaks in the fridge...do something with them" and he did, he cooked them in some kind of made from scratch mustard and tomato sauce with sliced and baked new potatoes on top......MMMMMMMMMMM!! Ahhh worth having the kids when they can cook for you without asking what to do, now if only I could get one of them to clean up afterwards I would feel my job is done!

I found some bathroom taps ( faucets) on sale, truly magnificent posh ones, mixer taps, down from £70 to £5 and when we paid discovered that they had an extra 10% off..£4.50! Matching bath and sink ones....for £9 instead of £140!!

Isaac found a motorbike! It's a battery one that doesn't work ( " me no want it move, me no want it make noise, me duss want sit on it") 3 wants for £5...he has washed it, stared at it, sat on it, polished it, shared it and adored it.
Motorbikes are his new passion...

I found white babygro's, 3 for £1....seemed like a bargain, I couldn't wait to bath my baby and put him in one, all clean and sweet looking....awwwwww, within 3 minutes he had shot out into the garden and .....well, picked blackberries and dug up who dares even imagine what....



This has been a great week for bargains AND IT'S ONLY MONDAY! I feel it in my water that we are in for a good one this week.

I just found this and love it!

"Some of My Best Friends Are Straight...By Marty Beaudet April, 1993

Well, not really--but they could be. I mean, I have nothing against straight people. They're God's children, too, and we should love them in spite of their behavior. We must learn to hate the sin, but love the sinner. We need to realize that, in spite of what we see on TV--the adultery, the spouse and child abuse, the gay bashing, the bigotry--not all straight people fit this stereotype. Why, I know some very dear straight people who are sincerely struggling to repent of their past behavior and have a desire to bring their lives into harmony with the Gospel.
Now what they do in private is their own business--I just don't approve of them flaunting it in public. I see no reason why they need to touch each other and kiss in public or parade their drunken revelries on the streets of New Orleans every year. I mean, it's so confrontational. You know they're just doing it to upset people. And while they have the same rights as anybody else, I think we need to protect our impressionable children from exposure to sinful lifestyles. We can't send a message to the children that we condone nudity, drunkenness, hatred, killing, abuse and a multitude of other sins which straight people commit. For that reason I am a concerned citizen seeking to assure that we do not grant special rights to heterosexuals . . . "

Funny how the tables can be turned so easily and convincingly isn't it?!?

Pass the ketchup....

Jordan got a new tattoo.....



I had an experience today that was so overwhelming it might be hard to explain, but I'll try!

Jordan was 2 years and 2 months old when he was snatched and abused by the monster. Elijah is 2 years and 2 months right now. It has occured to me that subconsciously I have been reliving the nightmare because Isaac is the same age that Dan was and Eli is the same age as Jordan. Babies both.
When I was dealing with the aftermath of what had happened to these little boys I was unable to think about anything but what to do at each given stage, living minute to minute, day to day.
Because time has passed and the boys are now both men, brilliant, funny, beautiful men I am able to see that the nightmare is over. That would be a good thing, except now my head can think of all the things it wasn't able to take in at the time. I also have H, who can, and does, take the strain when my head remembers and shuts me down, at the time I was a single mother looking after these hurt little people. I don't know if I would be going through what I am living now if I didn't have Seth, Isaac and Eli.
The sight of Eli running after his bath, Isaac in his innocence stripping off to play in the paddling pool...these things bring immediate and overwhelming flashbacks, vivid rememberances of how different things were when Dan and Jordan were these ages. Somehow I am now grieving for all the things I didn't have with my first 2 sons, all the innocence and the blissful ignorance that should be every child's and every mother's right.
Jordan wanted a lift today to the bank before it closed ( typical teenage emergency, he has had a whole week off work and had to get to the bank 30 minutes before it shut, on a friday, to change accounts) Ugh, mad hour where everyone is heading home in a town that is almost at a standstill by roadworks. We hit a particularly bad bit of traffic and I told J that it would be quicker for him if he got out and cut through the back streets to the bank and I could turn off and head home and avoid anymore traffic.
He did that and crossed in front of the car to get over the road, I leant out of my window and called him saying " Hey Jords! Mummy loves you!" he turned around, with a huge grin and there was this moment when, if the very heavens had parted and a ray of light had beamed down on him, he couldn't have looked more illuminated....I saw my boy for the first time, properly in 14 years, and right there, in the middle of town, stuck in traffic, I sobbed.
Jordan was so damaged by the monster, that in order to cope, to hear the details, help him through it, I must have somehow switched off. I have never stopped loving him, never in anyway discernable to him ( or even myself until I realised it today) turned away from him but I understood, when I saw him today that I have been unable to truly look at him since I learned what had happened. When a mother hears, in baby's words, the things I have heard, it must be a lifesaving mechanism to somehow detach. Today, who knows why, but the switch was turned back on, I saw my son, saw everything about him and was able to feel the depth of caring that has been denied me in order to remain sane.
On the drive home it was as if someone had turned on a video recorder and I heard and saw everything that little boy told me, every memory was there, every feeling and every wretched ounce of agony was there. By the time I got home I could scarcely breathe. I crept in the house and shut myself in my room and I howled. I let the hateful pain out and it was like a devil ripping it's way free.
When it was over, I knew that at last I had let that little boy go. He isn't here anymore, in his place is the most beautiful man....he is funny, unharmed, kind, loving and he is whole. No more that broken boy who took 7 months to smile, all gone the baby who had night terrors for nearly 2 years, no more tiny boy screaming " oh please get my daddy, please get my daddy." Goodbye sad little boy with his fears.
He is a strong and happy young man ready to face the world and be whoever he is meant to be.

I can look at him and soak in every detail of him, I can love him unreservedly without fear that I will let him down or be unable to function if the emotions take over.
I couldn't be more excited if he had just been born, because to me, he has been.
Another ghost laid to rest, another triumph in the battle against the demons.
In the slowest but most definate way I am crawling towards all the joy I am capable of.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel...please, please Lord, don't let it be a train.

sometimes, you just have to do ....

...what you have to do!

I know Elijah is 2 and I know that he should probably be walking more than riding in a stroller BUT I have had a bug up my bum for way over a year since his splendid, all terrain buggy was stolen, almost from under our noses, H had taken Isaac with him on his daily walk and taken the brand new rolls royce of strollers with him in order to be able to bump up hills and down dales with ease. Isaac needed a pee and so H took him out of the stroller and went behind a hedge...when they emerged 2 minutes later the buggy and 2 coats that were underneath had gone, vanished, stolen by some low life that has had my rage directed at them way too often since.
*sigh* no way we could buy another posh pram, so the boy has been in a 2nd hand umbrella stroller ever since. I have muttered and cursed the afore mentioned and much hated Urban Detour stroller stealer every time I have had to walk with my beloved last baby in that cheap old thing.
Until today......I have found, on e.bay, an even more glorious stroller, posher than posh and grander than grand. A veritable bargain and the soother of my insulted soul. It is paid for and the courier is booked. I am happy, my boy shall ride in comfort and suspensioned splendour, because it has suspension on front AND back wheels, thankyou very much, until he is six if I so choose ( and he lets me) When he really won't ride in it anymore I shall use it to collect firewood when I walk my dog babies. I might even have it buried with me when I die because I love it.

It is with great excitement....

that I tell you I don't have time for a post other than to say I am GOING OUT this evening, girls only, eating and laughing will be involved, I am even going to stay out later than, oooh say 9.30pm...there's no stopping me when I get going!

6.20am

My day today started with what has to go down as a golden memory. H was already up with the early bird Elijah, who, for a change wasn't watching Shrek but snuggling peacefully in the front room....I heard TWO sets of clumpetty feet come into our room and some very loud whispering " ISAAC....JUST GET IN THEIR BED.......SHHHHHHHHHH"
2 little boys, who in the pitch black , scrambled into our huge bed and both at the same time, realised that the treasure they had brought with them, namely a Batman toy from MacDonalds and a wristband Seth was wearing, were both glowing in the dark.
"Hey..Seff!" Isaac whispered ( loudly) " See my new Batman, he flow inna dark"
" Awww, Way cool....hey hey my wristband glows too!!!"
30 seconds of wriggling and sniggering...
"Hey Seff! We wiggle way way far down in mummy bed, it be ferry ferry dark, our stuff flow reeeeeally REEEEAAALLY bwight"
So 2 little maggoty boys, absolutely shrieking with delight wriggling down the bed, even though it was as black as black can be OUTSIDE the covers, both so sure that the treasures were glowing so much brighter than before. When they surfaced, they discovered that somehow they had switched places and Seth was where Isaac had been and vice versa....more belly laughing and snorting.
These are the moments that make it all the greatest gift on earth to be a parent. I am rich beyond measure.

If I could share....

Parts of my world with you, I would share;

The scenery around here, we have beaches and moorland and villages, thatched cottages, winding roads with cows wandering to be milked. We have cities for shopping and hustle and bustle and around every turn there is green. Fields, hedgerows, trees...green and peaceful.

I would share fish and chips, in the wrapper, sitting on a bench near the sea, seagulls and holiday makers, fresh air and fun.


I would share my parents, who are the most christlike people I have ever met. Accepting and loving, with such honesty and integrity that the challenge to live likewise is enormous and overwhelming.
A Mother who is so honest that if she is given a ticket for the car park she will say thankyou and then buy her own because she hates to think of cheating the council out of 80 pence.
A woman who has loved her children and asked for nothing but respect and love back.

Parents who decided when they got married that they wanted family treasure, not financial and so fostered 100+ children, adopted a down's baby and had 5 of their own.

I would share my home, with it's noise and it's laughing, mess and chaos.
I'd let you hear Eli say Giwaft instead of Giraffe, I'd let you watch him because he can jump you know.

I'd share with you Jordan's sense of humour but not the smell of his bedroom after a good night out!

I'd share with you Sophie's laugh...man, that's something to hear! She has the loudest old lady laugh you ever heard!

I'd let you listen to me and my sister reading the adverts in the supermarket and laughing like cackling fishwives at the mis-spellings.

I wouldn't share my scars with you, unless we got really silly and had one of those girlie evenings where it all comes out ( girls only though I'm afraid,some things have to be kept within the boundaries!!) If I joined all my scars together ( actually there are only 3, )they measure a huge and scarey 43 inches!! )

We'd watch the great british soaps and eat cadbury's chocolate til we were sick.

We'd walk around Torquay at night and see the lights.

And most of all I would just share the time, I'd bask in friendships and the new experiences and just watch as you saw what I see with new eyes and hope that you would love it the way I do.

How do you do it?

Don't you just love to sit back sometimes and see how other people do things?

I love it, it's better than T.V if you ask me to just take in what's going on around you.
I particularly like watching people try to be a parent 'properly', you know, do it all the right way and get it all right and win a prize. Humph, wonder what the prize is though. How completely and utterly unsatisfactory and downright unglorious is it that if you do the parenting thing right, do a good job, the proof of it is that your kid leaves home!?
Where's the medal in that?
They do though, they realise that you were right and they can do anything they put their mind to and are capable and clever and probably the most gorgeous thing ever born and just bugger off somewhere giving all your hard earned fabulousness to some partner or other that will never have any idea,or care, just how much hard work you put in!
Think back to the pregnancy for a starting point, every book you care to reads will tell you about morning sickness and giving birth but they don't even begin to tell half the story do they?
How many books tell you that you will become a whole new person that actually few people will like very much and one that your husband will almost certainly but if he is wise, very silently, wish he could swap for something much calmer and more reasonable, like a spitting Cobra for instance.
What book did you ever read that told you that on a daily basis you would weep about the most bizarre things? Like being so happy you have a washing machine and don't have to walk to a river and beat clothes with a rock, I stood in complete convulsions of sobbing ridiculousness turning a tap on and off while I wept for all those women who hadn't such luxuries in their lives.
It's probably best if I don't try and explain what happened when I sat having a pee whilst 38 weeks pregnant with Isaac and looked up to see H had thoughtfully bought me a jar of anti wrinkle cream and left it on top of the bathroom cabinet as a special suprise. No, best not.
No-one tells you what you will walk like if you are particularly blessed with a splitting pelvis, or the sounds you will make while you are walking like a penguin with piles.
It's never written that when you give birth you aren't going to be lying on a crisp white bed looking all sort of glowy and serene with an adoring husband gazing misty eyed at you because you are just so heavenly, but actually you will be writhing and sweating with veins bulging out of places you didn't have veins and your husband would have that look on his face that screams of trying to look supportive but actually longing to run as far away from this woman he has failed to understand for 9 months, who is now threatening his reproductive organs with unthinkable torture, in a voice straight from a horror movie about someone possessed.
Then you give birth and awwwww, it's all worth it, you can move mountains and know that nothing will be too much for this teeny tiny person who just came from under your heart.
Until about 5 weeks or so when you begin to feel that you will die if you can't get some sleep and feeling that actually you don't believe you ever planned on having children and cats are just so much nicer because you can put them out at night and sleep, really sleep. And then they smile.
That wobbly half cocked sort of not quite a smile kind of smile that is by far the most spelndid sight ever because you know that everything is worth it and you can do it and you will do it.
Nature has this way of just getting it all so right, every time you feel that being a parent is just the hardest and least rewarding job on earth, the focus of your discontent does something so unbeatably fantastic you forget everything and burst with pride at having created them.
Wouldn't it be great to find a career that was equal to being a kid? where all you had to do to gain years of unconditional rewards and backbending compliance was smile, or make a crappy picture with 'my family is good' on it, even sleeping will bring bonuses the like of which you can hardly begin to imagine.
You look at your tiny baby and can't imagine ever being happy that they will go to school, until it is almost time for them to start school and they are so bored with talking to and looking at you all day that they think up activities to break the monotony , starting with writing on walls and progressing to making cakes on the kitchen floor with whatever they can grab in the 37 seconds it takes you to pee. A true ready for schooler will crash your car into a tree or put the hose through an open window and turn it on just to see what happens.
Hoorah! Get the uniform ,pack the lunch and wave goodbye with slightly less enthusiasm than you feel so as not to hurt their feelings.
Even when they are filling your shoes with maple syrup and peanuts you can still be overwhelmed with gushing love for them because when they are clean and sleeping all that naughty stuff sort of seems funny. You gaze at them sleeping and know that you will die a bit when they leave home.
Marvellous then that good old Nature takes over again and they hit this period when, no matter how cute they are, no matter how funny or beloved, you can look at them and long for the day when they come to visit, leaving their cups behind them. What IS it about teenagers that they are incapable of using the same cup twice? not only do they have to have a clean cup ( and one from a cupboard thankyou, ones drying on the drainer aren't good enough oh no siree) but they lose all ability to pick UP the cup they have used, once they have slaked their thirst ( and it is never the full cup, nope, half the cup/ glass must be left in, especially if there are little children in the house too) all strength leaves the arms of teenagers when they are no longer thristy, so they put the glass down and with shaky and wobbly arms, walk away to leave the cup / glass to be kicked over by a toddler.
It is not only possible but an almost certainty that the day will come when they say " actually I've been thinking of getting my own place" and the oscar award worthy act will be on " oh darling.....are you? When, do you think?"
( WHOOHOOOOO! YEEHAAAAAAA!!)
"dunno actually but I reckon it'll be pretty cool, Jason is going to be working down here and between us we can do it"
" that's great, have you seen anywhere you like?"
( Can I help you pack? do you need plates????)
It's simply astounding that while you hope they will be safe and happy, the feeling of not being able to survive if you can't look at them while they sleep and wanting to make sure they have clean underpants has gone, disappeared under a pile of underpants you wish you didn't have to wash again. When they get to the age when they change their underwear so often that you are sick of the very sight of them, you can be pretty sure they are old enough to be in a place of their own.
So, do your job well and your reward is that they leave you without a backward glance.
It is also amazing that these untidy, lazy, weak armed people, who left you with a certain amount of trepidation and a slight feeling of uncertainty as to whether they would be buried alive under glasses and laundry, suddenly discover how it's all done! HA! That person who appeared to have NO clue how the vacuum worked and if shown, in an unavoidable way, how to do it, would half heartedly swing it around the middle of a room, inexplicably is all knowing in ways of household cleanliness, their flat is a veritable show home with vacuum wires actually wound up, laundry actually put away, in drawers. Dishes done and even put away in cupboards..Dan even has coasters for heavens sake COASTERS! Never mind not putting the cup on the floor but on a COASTER?!?
Jordan has always been a bit careful about his stuff and hangs his clothes up.....I can imagine then that when I visit HIM in his own home he will make me take off my shoes.
Oh hasten the day!

I have some friends...isn't that great? Real life ones !
Thankyou my Isaac, in waiting outside nursery with you I have been chatting with some of the great mums who pretend they don't notice you hiding and they have invited you to parties and every day they say hello and smile and don't mind when you hide behind my big bum or your lellow ba.
We have progressed from chatting outside school and we have met at the park, where you shared your Batman mask and gloves ( still being worn all day every day thankyou again Jennifer!) and today we met at Jordan's work and had lunch while you and Matthew, Rhys and Joe made yourselves drip with sweat and ran and climbed in the play area. You didn't sit with the big boys to eat lunch but you watched them and noticed when they finished and went right back to run and climb and sweat again. I even heard you talk directlt too them twice, good boy!
It is a breath of fresh air to sit and talk with women, to laugh and pretend to be shocked when Heidi tells us how she got jiggy with her man behind B&Q on the way home from a date.....it was the excitement of actually going out on date and leaving the children with a babysitter that reminded them of how things used to be in the days 'before' ..the days before babysitters were needed, that went to their heads ( or not, if we're honest, it was the beer that went to their heads, the thrill went somewhere else entirely) Some nostalgic sighs from some of us and a quiet giggle from me as I thought about how if I behaved with H as I behaved in my youth we would get giddy with the idea of standing arms length apart and talking about pop songs!
Blimey I wasted a lot of my younger days! Not quite the same if I think of being riske now...him with his bald head and me with my post 6 babies belly, both of us with aching limbs, I suspect if anyone were to come across us in the throws of passion down a back alley they wouldn't hesitate to call for an ambulance thinking we were being taken poorly, a couple of grunting old farts who shouldn't be out after dark!
It was just so great to be out with the girls and the little boys having fun. H was at a UKIP committee ( did I spell that right Jenn?...oh tsk, I forgot, no point asking you) meeting.
We used my sister card for the cash and carry today and it was just like being back in the states, the C&C was on an industrial estate and so there were tons of big business buildings and walking through the doors was like going to Sam's club, even smelled the same. I found ( of all things) Bisquik pancake mix!!! WHOOHOO! the real stuff so we'll have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow. Funny how you can't get that in the regular shops, I've never seen it!
I think H enjoyed walking 'round and thinking of home. We both enjoyed having something to talk about!
Little things mean so much, today was a great day.

Some more stuff you can live without knowing.

Due to the obvious success of my 'cheat' entry about totally unimportant things you can live without knowing, here are some more...maybe this is my way of doing the 100 things about me thing without actually listing them all at once and boring you til you chew your own kneecaps off.

I am Jes' twin in that I have very long hair that is ALWAYS up in a ponytail! I hate having it on my face ..so, why don't I get it cut? Maybe I jolly well will, any day now!

I gag at the thought of ketchup on fried egg, even seeing yellow and red paint together will make me heave as it makes me think of ketchup and egg.

But I LOVE ketchup on omelette. ( how is that spelled? Omlette? Ommlete?! the more you write a weird word the weirder it looks!!)

I forget to breathe all the time, even in my sleep.

I love kissing.

I hate white rice unless it is covered with a delicious sauce of some kind but my whole family loves it, blurgh, bowls of plain white rice..WHY?!?

I love old people and very young people but the ones in between get on my nerves a lot.

I hate it that people think that to be spiritual means you can't have fun. I grew up with people almost falling over when they discovered I was religious and saying things like " but you're FUNNY! How can you be religious!?"

Even though I am so shy it hurts and to have to talk to someone I don't know makes me shake with fear, I can stand up in front of huge crowds and talk without a tremor of nerves..how weird is that?

I wish I could play the piano, in fact I know that I CAN play I just haven't worked out how yet. I would love to learn how.

My parents are the most honourable people I have ever known.

Today, as I waited for Seth to come out of his classroom, I was watching him when he didn't know I was there and my whole soul melted at how cute this boy is, he looked up and saw me and said " Oh, I see my mummy!" I had the hugest thrill at the knowledge that I am his mummy and was overwhelmed with gratitude.


I will never , ever, understand Reeses' peanut butter cups. Actually I will never understand Reeces' peanut anything.

If I had had any more Boys I would have used the names Ezra and Abraham.

Girls would have been Scarlett and Ruby. ( can you imagine a baby girl like my little boys with that dark skin, big brown eyes called Ruby? Divine)

I can't wait to be Sophie's friend, I think it will happen when she is a mother herself.

I really, REALLY hate filling in forms but seem to have to do it ALL the time.

I don't want to go blind.

I am impatience personified.

I used to have beautiful handwriting but now I never write anything, bad computer!!

I love singing hymns. Especially when I am mad...definately soothes the savage beast.

I hate Jazz music, it makes me want to punch someone very hard.

I love bluegrass.

I am tired and am going to bed. Night night. ( I bet I am up again in 15 minutes......grrrrrrr!)

Open for discussion. I suppose.

Discussion, but not ripping apart.
I am torn between the odd feeling of wanting to explain and the stronger feelings of mind your own damn business, however, acknowledging that I have used this very blog to sound out my frustrations in the past at finding myself at home all day, every day with H, I suppose in a way I have left it open for people ( and I suspect that Trace isn't the only one thinking it, in fact after her last comment caused more behind the scenes and revelations that I can be bothered to go into and the awkward cooling for a while of one friendship and the complete blowing apart of another already waning one, I know she isn't)here goes, an explaination into my living arrangement for the sake of other people. Who leave comments like this


Humm, it doesn't take a high IQ to figure out why most of the world has things to do on the weekend. Maybe if you were not home 24 hours a day, 7 days a week then the weekend would mean more to you.
and this....

"It is not that you are a stay at home mom that I have a hard time understanding, it that your husband is a stay at home dad too. While you mention that money is so tight and that you stress about it so much, but there is no wage earner in your household except for your older son. A (meaning one) stay at home parent is a very noble profession...two is just plain irresponsible."

Actually, to be fair, both these commenst were by the same person and so was the one that I deleted because it made me SO mad I couldn't stand to have it there, so maybe I could just tell myself that it's just this one person ( who I wouldn't know if she stood up in my soup) and who, if we're honest matters not to me and makes no difference in my life apart from invoking an uneasy and somewhat irritating, certainly unwelcome and unneeded shaking of the smidgen of peace of mind I might have. This is for you.

I married H nearly 6 years ago and moved to the states , I left a home that was very nice, filled with very nice things paid for by me.....just me. I was a stay at home parent to 3 children all of differing special needs and at the same time I was a respite carer for severly disabled children, we lived on benefits and also the money from the respite care. Because my children had special needs it was deemed more sensible and economical for ME to be at home looking after them, in order to feel that I was teaching them not only the fact that I was there for them and that despite the horrific things they had and were dealing with they too could always find things to do and hold their heads up high, I looked after many sick children as well as my own.
I met and married H and we moved, lock, stock and barrel to the states, I will say that apart from the general experience and the fact that I married a man who has many great qualities, the experience of living in the country we hear endlessly is the greatest, the Land of the free and the best in the world, I found the whole deal a bloody nightmare.
I left everything I had built up and moved to crapola.
H is a salesman by choice and although a good one was working for commission only and apart from a fantastic spell of success, which was great while it lasted, we found that there was no way he was able to support us there. We lived with his dad for a while ( much longer that I would ever have chosen ) and to cut along story short, after my 2 eldest boys had been back in England for nearly 2 years and missing them so much it hurt I couldn't stand it anymore.
So, I came home, with my children and was almost 5 months pregnant with Eli...no idea how or even, if, H would ever get over to join us, even that , the prospect of leaving him behind and being a single mother again was better to me than living in the states, I hated it, loved my husband, the sunshine and my father in law, but the rest was hell for me.
So, here I was, back home, really at home, with family and friends and everything that means anything to me where it should be, but no husband.
Miracles DO happen and it was only 5 months til he joined us..he arrived the day before I went into hospital to have Elijah.
He settled in, we had Eli, and he looked for work, hooray, success he got a great job working for British Gas, everything was set and he had the date for his induction course, in Wales. January 27th. Excitement all 'round.
Three days before he was due to go on the course he had a call saying that they were putting his induction course back 2 weeks because they were still recruiting and were hoping to send more people at the same time, no worries they were looking forward to working with him as much as he was looking forward to working for them.
January 27th, the date he should have gone to Wales to train, he was weird all day, more than bad tempered he was downright evil. I kind of put up with it and hoped he would get over it but as the day went on he got more and more out of control and at 7 o'clock in the evening he exploded, real rage just so out of the blue, no real reason but he lost it until I made it clear that no-one was prepared to put up with this so he should get away and stay away until he was ready to be reasonable and explin what the hell was the matter.
15 minutes later he came down and came right up to me and whispered " I feel bad" I was about to say " so you should" when I looked at his face and knew that what he meant was, he felt ill, he was totally grey ( and normally he has dark olive skin) his face and head were pouring sweat and he was fumbling and panicking around. I told him to sit down and calm down but he kept flapping about and was trying to get outside.
When he managed to get out he vomited and it was like a scene from the exorcist.....he looked as if he had been in a shower, the sweat was pouring from him and he was gasping and saying he couldn't get his breath. After calling for an ambulance he sat still and looked a bit better but it was clear that he was far from well.
He was having a heart attack, 44 years old, no previous trouble, great colesterol levels, perfect blood pressure and not over weight....WHAM heart attack. 5 days in hospital with drips and drugs and fear, then home.
So here he is, my husband, young ( in this case, if I was talking about leather pants and nightclubs he would be up there with Methusula but for this, he is young!!) in a foreign country, never been ill before and struck down with what could have been a fatal condition. How scarey must that have been? It was terrifying for me ( and still is, everytime he sweats when he is working outside I am waiting for him to keel over again!)
So, the job was a no-go. He is now on so many medications I'm amazed he doesn't rattle, he is actually pretty fit and had he been working in a job that was compatible with the life he now has to lead he could have gone right back to it, however, he wasn't and he can't. How many English employers do you know that will jump at the chance to employ a now 46 year old American with a bad heart? Especially in the line of work that he has always done which is sales, knocking on doors and walking neighbourhoods?
Why don't I go to work then? Well, how possible would it be for my husband to look after these 3 under 5's, get them to all the various appointments, schools, get to his doctors appts, taking various children with him? Impossible, he is capable of many things but not everything. I hate to make myself sound like superwoman but in all honesty there are times when I am pretty damn near!
Add to that ( and here's where it gets uncomfortable for me but lets get it all out in the open and to hell with it all) the fact that because in my adult life I have dealt with some pretty hair-raising events, one after the other, I am a nervous and terrified wreck. I am afraid of nearly everything.
In 16 years I have hadmy 1st husband walk out, 2 days after major surgery, leaving me with 3 babies aged 10 weeks, nearly 2 and nearly 4. And a hole the size of a fist left open in my stomach. Great timing arsehole.
My 2 sons were snatched by a pedophile and so hideously abused it took me 4 years to get them anywhere near normal. Me, no-one else. I listened to 4 years of revelations from these children that would make any mothers heart bleed and break and split with pain. Every filthy, miserable, terrifying detail told to Me by these little boys mouths, imagine what you will, I probably heard it from my children and had to keep a calm face, not cry, not panic, not scream, not run away. I had to deal with it, again and again and again and again until those little boys had purged themselves of every terrifying and damaging detail and everything was in MY head, where it will stay until the day I die. But if it is mine and not theirs then Thank God and say Amen.
Just as they were beginning to recover, my little girl, sweet blond haired Sophie who was so clever, so funny and so quick it was a joy to watch her, began to fit. Up to 30 times a day she would glaze over and disappear into who knows what place, everytime she came back a bit more of her had been lost until I was left with this little ball of screaming energy, she would hang out of upstairs windows, run into the road, punch, kick, spit, swear her brain being damaged by whatever was going on in there and bit by bit she wore us all down. Some meds worked, others made it worse, until she outgrew the epilepsy when she was 9. Damage was done and although she is feisty and appears to be over the epilepsy the fight is still there and she has many problems still to over come.
4 years in the states, where I learned there is no place like home. I'm still not able to say outloud what happened over there but suffice to say it wasn't much fun, I didn't see whatever it is that has us hearing til we could puke, how it is the greatest country in the world and I'll be damned if I can remember anything that I found remotely worth staying for. So I didn't.
Since I came back H has had his heart attack and what came with that is a legacy of fear, what else can happen? Oh, what else can happen is we can watch our little boy disappear into himself. What can the matter be? Oh yes, that's right, Autism this time. that's a new one but we can do it. Together. Between us we do it, one of here, keeping the homefires burning, tidying, washing, cooking and feeling useful and having a purpose and not thinking about being on the scrap heap at 46, the other, running about like a blue-arsed fly, keeping endless doctor's appointments and school runs and seeing special needs teachers, dealing with teenagers and landlords, paying bills, trying to remember to breathe and not pass out because being outside is scarey and talking to people hurts.
He keeps me sane, he lets me sleep when I need to because I am awake most nights, all night, because I am so sad all the time and so frightened about what is going to come my way next.
I keep him safe and tell him how much he helps me .
My 2nd son works, good boy, he earns good money, lucky boy- and he pays me £30 a week. Whoppy-do. ever seen how much a 18 year old boy who is 6' 5" tall can eat? ever seen how much laundry a teenager can make? Ever seen a phone bill run up by a teenager who calls all his friends cell phones ( and yes, wicked me I make him pay for every one! And the pay per view movies he watches !) He earns money because I have taught him his whole life that if he wants things he has to decide what it is he wants and then go out and do something about it. On my birthday, he gave me money to go out with a friend, kind boy. He even buys trendy designer clothes for his baby brothers because he thinks it's cute. Generous boy.
My oldest son, who is 20 works hard too, he earns good money and he learned the same lessons, from me.
I am not sitting here, with my feet on a table and my arse on a pillow waiting for handouts.
In the past 2 months both H and I have been to the Job center and spoken with the people who deal with benefits and such, we have both asked about what we can do to change things and guess what we were both told?
We were told that because they know every detail of our lives, because we have answered every question, been to every doctors appointment, attended every interview, proven what we are telling them is true, because it IS their business. They see, they believe and they know that the only way we can keep this whole show on the road is for me to be here for him and him for me and both of us for the children. See? That's why we are both here, because we have to be and because THIS country cares enough to take time and see what people really need and go out to try and provide it.
We don't have a day's worry about health care, H had his heart attack and all we had to worry about was whether he would get better.Not how we would pay for it. Isaac has all the help he can ever need and never a second's worry about how much it will cost.
We have proven to the people that matter that we deserve what we are given.
H does voluntary work, he is a board member for a political party here and works hard for them, he is on the board of governors at the boys school. He helps anyone that may need his help and I have never, ever seen him just sit around and do nothing. I have never seen him play a video game, he plays with his kids, he makes computer programmes with dinosaurs in and the alphabet so his boys can learn and have fun at the same time. He plants things and shows them how they grow and how we can eat things that we grow ourselves. We don't drink, at all, we don't smoke, we haven't been out for a meal in forever ( apart from a meal Jordan cooked at his work on H's birthday while Sophie babysat, clever boy, kind girl.)
If I grizzle sometimes about not having much money, shoot me! This blog is FOR me to moan, to rage, vent, swear, weep...because in real life, I don't. I smile, I say I'm fine, I play with my children and teach them the good things in life. When everyone goes to bed, I sit up and I worry about whether I am doing it all OK, I cry in case anything else every happens to my children, or my husband, or me. I dig my fingers until they bleed when I worry about things that haven't happened but might, or remember things that have happened and were too sad or painful and hope they never ever happen again.
What I don't do is worry about not going out to work. I would worry if I DID go to work , if I left these children in the care of anyone but me I would be sick with worry. I don't feel a single bit of remorse or guilt because we receive benefits because I know we are entitled to them and there is no choice that would work and still be OK for this family.
I have sat opposite the very people whose job it is to weed out the benefit frauds, they have even been to my HOME and they look me in the face and tell me that I mustn't give it a second thought because as far as they are concerned this family is what the benefits are about, if they say that do you think for one second it matter who else should think we are sponging or being ridiculous? If we know that what we do is the only thing we can do with things as they are, why would we listen to anyone who would scoff and look down on us?
So, there, it's done, I imagine there will be those that tut and mutter about how terrible I am...carry on. There will be those who say I am saying one thing and doing another by saying I don't care what you think and then write an explanation. So be it.
I do know that the people that matter will be glad, that for us, there is help, that we ARE able to live in a way that helps us deal with what life has thrown at us without the added terror of how to keep a roof over our heads and medicines in the cabinet. I know many people are even envious that it is possible to live in a place where the needy matter, where the small people are remembered and deemed as important as the wealthy with their big SUVs and swanky medical insurance. Ahhh we're home in Great Britain...couldn't have named it better myself.

Sometimes....

The ideas for an interesting entry just won't come at all!
I thought of telling you how I hate it if the butter melts on my toast so I always let it get cool before I spread it.
I could tell you that I need to feel air on my face in order to relax, so I always drive with the window open and sleep with a fan on my face, even in winter.
I have to have 100% cotton pillowcases and they have to be ironed beautifully.
I wish I had called Sophie, Scarlett. I LOVE that name.
But none of that is very interesting ..so that's it for today, here's hoping inspiration comes to me for tomorrow!

in out, in out....

But not shaking it all about!
So we are in week 2 of the new school and nursery routine. Seth is like a teeny fish in a huge lake full of mean old fish..he is a quivering little tremby lipped chap when we arrive in the playground and is truly overwhelmed by the hussle and charging around. We have sort of stumbled into a routine that almost suits the boys , although it leaves me with a whirling head and somewhat weeping heart. Picture the fantastic new nursery building at one end of the playground, all fenced in and a bit regal in it's newness...right at the opposite end of the playground is the building that houses the Seth meister for 6 hours of his day. So we all go into nursery and ooh and ahh at the activities set out for the day, Isaac hides behind me while the divine and endlessly patient Louise says good morning in her most excited and enthusiastic voice that gives away not a trace of the fact that she has to notice Isaac is ignoring her, she jollies him along into finding his name and pegging it onto the washing line with the ladybird pegs....hoorah! Isaac is in the triangle group, how exciting, it IS exciting and I'm pretty sure that behind that surly frown and down turned lip, Isaac can feel a bit of the thrill of it all.
Seth's turn, Isaac is brave as he can be while he watches us from the hallway, through the window while he chews on his coat peg , lots of overdone waving while we positively skip with enthusiasm across the playground to Seth's classroom with Miss K, who is at least 13.
It's a bit strange having Seth clinging on like a limpet, more touching that I can say is that little quivering lip and the gripping hands that make my already stretched jeans stretch to their very elastic capacity. He likes the classroom but it's the dump your bag and go out in the wild and vast playground that has him quaking in his size 11 clarks school shoes. Ahhhh, breakthrough this morning I thought as I espied the every cheery Harry and Alex running around like lunatics on a day out.." Harry! Can Seth join in?"
" Yep! we're playing bum smack, you have to chase until you catch and then smack their bum"
Lovely..a much awaited wicked grin on Seth's face and a slightly concerned frown on mine but off he went, unable, of course, to catch big old Harry and just as big Alex, who caught him and whacked his skinny bum rather too hard. Darn it.......whatever happened to "the farmer's in the dell"?!
All the while of course waving frantically to the coatpeg chewing Isaac......this all takes 20 minutes or so and by the time it is done I'm a bit of a frazzle without the dazzle. Throw Elijah into the mix on a day when H has some appointment or other and he is running like a rabbit let out of it's hutch and the thought that the farmer is coming any minute......all before 9 am too!
This afternoon, Isaac had to go straight to his new speech therapy class, 6 children, 2 therapists and , well......what can I say? I tried to hide my feelings that somehow the session was an insult to the intelligence of these little people who are by no means dim but don't speak very well, Isaac didn't hide it, at all, neither did the other little boy who was so like Isaac I would lay my weeks milk money on the fact that he has aspergers too. The same furrowed brow, same absolute look of disdain for any and every suggestion that standing up, sitting down, hands on knees and songs about clapping, held any kind of interest or use for a purposefilled life.
Isaac cheered up slightly at the colouring in games.....only slightly though and was disgusted enough to actually speak during it.
" Hm children, what do we wash ourselves in?" ( 2 little boys look without pausing at the picture of the bath but be darned if either one would point) 4 otther children point excitedly, at a rough picture of a bath tub....
"here's a blue crayon, would you like to colour the bath blue?"
( Isaac) "NO!"
" Oh , why Isaac?"
"Toz the barf is white"
" pardon?"
" Barfs are white, me no haff a blue barf, me haff white barf, me no tolour it blue" Looking sideways at me with a look that said so clearly " you have stuck me in a room full of complete imbeciles, what are you thinking woman?? will you GET ME OUT!"
( me, feeling this could turn into a big issue in seconds) " Isaac, what happens if you put blue bubbles in the water?"
"Oh yeah...water will doe blue, me tolour WATER in blue" and he did, just the part that would have the water in, lovely blue.

It seemed a very long hour....then it was time to go, hooray....oh it's the goodbye song..."Cameron, would you come out to the front?"
"bye bye Cameron, bye bye Cameron, bye bye Cameron we'll see you another time"
Then Gavin...next Amy...then " NOT ME! No sing at me! " My Isaac looked absolutely horrified at the very idea that he would be made to stand up and be sung to ( or 'at' actually) He sat on a chair with a look of iron will, not to be outsmarted, Beverly and Vanessa just sang and waved at him while he sat where he was until it was just too torturous for him and he flew across the room yelling " Oh me no like at wavin' song! Me hate 'at waving song, never sing it effer effer again at me"
What a day...not quite as Trace imagines is it?
This month we have 4 speech therapy appointments, 2 eye appointments, one hearing appointment,one appointment with the educational psychologist, several meetings with the special needs education co-ordinator and various general doctors appointments. that's just for the boys!
A pretty regular timetable in our lives, monday to friday certainly......who'd want to miss any of it? Not me, this is my job...my life, my career. I'm really very good at it, my rewards are priceless and eternal and it's all I ever wanted to do for as long as I can remember. Lucky, lucky me. I LOVE mondays.


OOOOOOOOOH! Just an added bit ...Jordan just came home from work and asked me to run him down to Mac. D's...said he wanted to meet up with Sophie and the friends she spends so much time with.....ugh....get dressed and off we go ( it's 10pm by the way) OH MY GOODNESS! When I was a teenager I would have sold my rights to irritate my only brother to have had the fun they have....they all meet up every evening ( yes, every evening and of course call each other 20 times in between) and I knew there were several of them ( all with bizarre names) well.....there had to be 15 or more cars there and at least 3-4 kids to each car. No yelling, no noise, just a huge group of 16-19 year olds just laughing and hanging out.
When I think of the things these kids could be getting up to it is refreshing to have seen with my own eyes that they are just kids and pretty good ones at that.
As for the cars..with petrol prices as they are ( I put £5 ($10) in my car this morning and it took me exactly 16 miles before the light came on, we're at $8 a gallon now!!) they don't drive anywhere, just sit in the carpark with the interior lights on, showing off until they all have to go home again!!
Even weary old me, almost in my dotage could feel the buzz just from the kids ... what it must be to be 16 / 18 and it's a pretty good feeling to know that Jordan is there keeping his eye on the girl child. Ahhhhhhh.

Saturdays.

What is it about saturdays? Am I the only person in the world that feels she is at home shrivelling with tedious tedium while the rest of the world is out doing....what?!? Its as if the world comes to a stand still on Saturdays. No-one updates their blogs, message boards are cyber ghost towns and as for T.V, even the people who decide the programmes have it in their heads that no-one is going to be home so let's just fill every channels with crappety crap crap and leave the country!
Did I miss something in my 43 years on this planet? How do I not know the secret to fun saturdays? We do go out and we do try to fill our weekends with fun and activity bit ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh how long do saturdays last, I think that this one day a week has at least 48 hours in it.
57 minutes and this one will be over...hooray.

At least the boys found something to do today that had them convulsed for hours....maybe I'll have to try it if things don't pick up soon!

Batman's day out.

Yesterday, when we got home from school and nursery, there was a package waiting for us...all the way from America, addressed to the 3 little people.
Isn't is amazing how a parcel can bring such excitement into our lives? This one, in particular has brought such sunshine to mine that it is almost impossible to thank the sender enough. The contents? 4 boxes of Kraft Mac n Cheese, a bag of suckers and a Batman mask and gloves.....BATMAN! The absolute object of Isaac's desires. The mask and gloves ( which I have to say make the perfect kind of ' oof ' .. 'Kerpow' noises that make a 4 year old almost giddy with joy) came from Walmart and the likes of which we are unlikely to see here in delightful Devon.
Isaac saw those Batman items and they went on and have yet to come off, completed by his Batman cape and t-shirt he IS Batman.
Today, Batman had a day out. He went to nursery.. " Me show EFFRYONE me be Batman" and he did , he showed everyone, even the ladies at nursery he says he can't see! He couldn't help it , everytime someone said " hey it's BATMAN!" he would squat and make those gloves sound out and he would face the enemy...maybe because he was Batman he was brave enough to do it? Maybe hiding behind the mask he thought they couldn't see him? Who knows and who cares?!?
After nursery we went to the park, with Joe and Matthew and their mummies..and Batman came out, he played and he swung and he even came out from behind the mask and let Matthew and Joe take on the face and hands of batman and while they were Batman Isaac was Isaac and he STILL played and swung and went in the water, he yelled and talked and was just a boy.
So, in our house Batman is THE Super Hero......he saved the day.

That, my friends is what true charity is, the real meaning of being in the service of your fellow man is to think of someone, perhaps someone thousands of miles away and, when you think of them and maybe imagine that there is something you can do, perhaps something that seems small, if you think it, feel it...DO IT! The smallest of acts can have the greatest of consequences. A walmart mask turned a tiny and normally frightened little boy into a superhero for a day.
What could we do that might turn another's life into a dream, if only for a day? We may not be able to rescue hundreds or thousands of abandoned or needy people, we might not save a life or change the world but every single one of us has the ability to touch a life in some way.
Thankyou Jennifer for making my day so great today. You're a superhero too!

I was a good girl, I was.

Yesterday I got an e.mail from my dad that had a picture attached, the point of the e.mail was for me to guess who the person in the picture was. I couldn't, I strained my eyes and misted up the screen with the breath from my flared nostrils in an unsuccessful effort to see who I was looking at. A man in a canoe with a sweet little boy of about 4. Nope, couldn't get it and so because things like that drive me CRAZY I had to call dad and tell him I had no idea!
Who was it? It was a blast from my past.
My first crush actually, Martyn. Actually it was Martin but it was cooler to spell with an 'Y' and he was SO cool. He could play any musical instrument he felt like playing and I loved to hear him play and sing. He sang to me once, across a crowded room....ahhhhh such romance!
He had dark hair and a grin that made my mum forbid him entry into our house! I sang with him and I was friends with his sister. We grew up together and unlike th eother boys I grew up with, there was a time when he stopped being a yukky boy and became a bit of a gorgeous one, who always seemed to be going out with my friends!
I think we had the shortest foray into pretending to be an item but I was a good girl, I was, I think Martyn wanted more than I could ever offer and so we just stayed best friends. The great thing about being best friends is that it lasts so much longer.
We stayed friends even when we both married the wrong people. Before we married the wrong people, we were the kind of friends that everyone should have. He was a great friend to me. During my very first heartbreak, he was there , every day. He would often come over and spend the night and just sit with me til I fell asleep, I'd wake up in the morning and he would have gone home but would come right back if I asked him to. We wrote songs and even recorded one. What memories that had slipped away and thought forgotten.
When my first marriage ended Martyn was there again but not for long, maybe we had both changed too much of needed different things and we lost touch. So, strange to see the picture and not recognise him because in our heads, we keep the people we know the same as when they were important to us and of course, like me, Martyn is in his 40's , so his hair isn't dark like it was, he isn't wearing a skin tight, sleeveless, t-shirt to show off his gymed up muscles because he is a dad ( and it's not 1988!!) and thank goodness it looks as though he knows what is important now.
I wondered if Martyn would ever be a dad and I am happy that he is. I hope he is as good a dad as I imagine he is. He learned what a good dad is the hard way, by seeing what a good dad isn't. He was let down too much when he was growing up and somehow still managed to stay kind and loving. He tried to be other things but to me he couldn't do it. Because I was 'just' his friend, I got to see what many other girls didn't and that was the real person. The real Martyn was nice and I was glad to be his friend for such a long time. He's Martin now because being cool isn't the most important thing and he's grown up, I wonder what the grown up version is like.
I like blasts from the past, it doesn't hurt to go back sometimes and remember how things were, I'd forgotten what I used to be and I really WAS a good girl, I was.

All in a day's work.

Ahhhh, the day is all but over! The great thing about dreadeing something is that actually it is rarely as bad as you have imagined and for the most part that is how the day went today.
Seth woke up ( having had the eyedrops put in while he slept) and said " Hey! THIS eye is the lazy one...how did that happen?" When he was told that he had had drops while he slept and that this meant he didn't have to even think about a patch on his good eye he thought the day had started pretty darn well!
Isaac was cheerful and dressed without fuss ( hooray for favourite clothes being out and ready when he wakes up) and did say a few times that he thought he would stay at home and not go to nursery but not too much panic in his voice...til we got to nursery!
Seth was thrilled to get to school and ran into his new classroom without a backward glance, what a star!
Isaac beheld the new nursery as as if he were a sweet baby calf being led to the abatoir....he dug in his heels and stiffened his legs and began with that heartbreaking and feeble weeping sound that pleads for mercy and is enough to melt the hardest of hearts, by the time we were actually INSIDE the building he was up to full pelt and then in absolute desperation he held his breath, in the most impressive way that he has perfected and calls his own, this is a sight to behold and has the biggest and strongest of humans running in panic with fingers on the 999 button. He screams and then stops, face still in scream mode but no sound, no air coming out, none going in and as we watch the colour in his face goes pale, then grey, then grey with blackish blue lips, eyes roll up into head, arms go into spasm as do legs and he fits, twitch and twitch, his hands grab and pinch ( HARD) whatever is in the way, OW OW OW if it's my face or my boob, then he passes out and makes a sound akin to the death rattle, bubbling throaty noise and then a moan, floppy body and if his bladder is full, he pees......ARGH!
Thankfully, no pee today. Just the full on breath hold. I had to hand him to his helper, Nicky and walk away...hearing the plaintive wails follow me through the door.
Why does life throw us these things? I suppose it's so we gain the true glory of the great moments, like when I went to collect him to see his huge grin and to hear that although it took a while, he stopped crying and relaxed with Nicky enough to hear a story, then he played and..he SPOKE!!! He also ATE the SNACK!! Would that news have been so welcome, so fantastic so glorious if he hadn't been so bereft when I left him? HE said that 'damowwow, me duss cry a lidda bit" I can handle a little bit of crying as long as today was a one off!
Both boys had a really good day, a happy day and so did I..Elijah went to living coasts with gramma and Papa and saw the penguins jumping into the sea.
It was SO quiet here, I managed to sort through ALL the boys clothes , bag up the ones no-one wears, put away the ones they love, sort out which ones Eli can use .
I also swapped mattresses on the boys beds, made them up fresh and cleaned their room. H worked in the garden and all without having to stop, no juice calls, no snack breaks. Heaven.
I have enjoyed the summer break and we had such fun but the bliss of actually getting some work done while knowing all 3 boys were safe and well looked after ( and now we know they were happy too!)


I am beyond thrilled to report a touching and unexpected development and that is the friendship that is blossoming between Sophie and Jordan, it is quite splendid and all the more appreciated because it is so out of the blue. When either of them comes home, they ask where the other one is and wait up for each other. If Sophie isn't home, J will call her and ask when she is coming home and how she is getting here, they watch TV together and Lawks a mercy they haven't fought for....well I can't remember, J pays Sophie to clean his room and make him breakfast! ( what a life!!) Jordan has even been out with her and the friends a few times and they all seem to get on. Could this be the beginning of growing up? Oh sweet joy!
I remember when Sophie was born, having a sweet imagination of how the 2 boys would look after her and be her protectors, never would I imagine that she would need protecting FROM them because she has driven them almost insane with her taunting and teasing! How fantastic then that at last they all 3 seem to genuinely get on and are beginning to bring some of my dreams to fruition.

Before I go I was tagged to write 5 of my favourite childhood memories, so here I go.

1/ Christmas was always SO exciting at our house, we would open stockings from Santa as soon as we woke and then the big presents in the front room would be out of bounds until we had had a full English breakfast and were washed and dressed.
Every year, just as we thought we were actually going to get IN to the front room, mum would say she needed the bathroom, then dad would disappear...I remember that agonising anticipation vividly, even though I can't remember any of the gifts we waited so patiently for!

2/ When I was 7 I was chosen to go on an overnight delivery trip to Wales with my dad. That feeling of being 'the chosen one' the special treats we ate, the fact that we broke down and had to wait for the recovery van, all of it is such an adventure in my mind. Feeling so close to my lovely dad. A special memory indeed.

3/ Going away on holiday to Somerset ( the very same campsite I have taken all of my children) and being able to stay up really late and sit in the garden of the club, having hot dogs and coca cola for the very first time.

4/ Buying my first pair of platform shoes..oh my goodness, my sister and I bought a pair of white platform clogs and walked through the street...hanging onto walls and railings because we just couldn't walk any other way! I think we wore them that one day and never again!

5/ The most vivid memory is that no matter how little we had, my mum always managed to give to other people, she never actually told us what she was doing but there was always someone coming to the house, who needed something, food, clothes, an ear to listen. She never turned anyone away and we often saw her making beautiful clothes for babies we knew nothing about. She fostered over a hundred babies and children while we grew up and yet never made us feel left out or needing anything.
She would make parcels up at christmas and we never knew who they were for. Pretty good memories for me of growing up, I hope my children will be able to say the same.

Pass the salt please...

Life, sometimes needs us to take it with a pinch of salt, or a block.....and sometimes it's harder to do than others.
This past week has been a really tough one for me, to be honest. I try hard not to let what other people say or do affect me too much and I rarely let it actually change the way I live my life but lumme if it isn't almost impossible to stop the words or thoughts getting in and screwing with your heart at times.
Tomorrow Isaac goes back to nursery and Seth will be going back to school, into year one, big boy school, no more special playground, no more 'babying'. This is the real Mc Coy. He is all of 38 inches and weighs 30lbs on a good day with his shoes on. He is beyond excited to be in with the big kids and I am excited for him.Terrified for me!
His sight is so bad in his eye now that we have to put in drops to temporarily block the sight in his good eye, this means that he will be pretty much close to blind until the weak eye takes over and strengthens up. I hate this ... he loves school, he is doing so beautifully and is a star, will he find it all too hard if he is having to strain to see anything and everything? Will he give up and fall behind and then begin to hate even going?
We have to do his because if we don't he will lose the sight in his weak eye for good, so to be hard on him now is to be kind in the long run. Tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how great is it that we have the healthcare and the knowledge and means to work with improving his sight? Yes, it's good being a mum really.

Isaac, oh my Isaac. 6 weeks of blissful progress, talking and talking and playing. Happy boy. Funny boy. Forget he has a problem boy, because he has been with his mummy and daddy and hasn't had to go anywhere or see anyone that threatens his safe and comfy world. Tomorrow that all stops again and he is back into the world with a bang, 3 hours in the morning instead of 2 in the afternoon at nursery, every day. The building is a new one, the toys are all new. The teachers are the same and the kids are the same.
I took him in today, while there weren't any children and let him look around and see the newness of it all, he played with the toys and loved the play house. He didn't even look at the 2 teachers that were there. He says he can't see them, can't talk to them, doesn't need them or friends. Any attempt to engage him in conversation resulted in the old head turning " mum mum mum" My son is autistic, he does have a problem, I can't pretend he doesn't. Very tough being a mummy sometimes. BUT how blessed are we that WE get to see the joyful happy boy, hear his sweet voice and listen to him chatting to his brothers when so many autistic children are locked in their little world always, those parents never experience what we do at home.....yes, pretty good being a mummy really.


And the old chestnut....skip this one if it makes you lose the will to live and groan 'here she goes again', remember this is for me to get it all out and try to make sense of what is happening in my increasingly muddled brain.

All this horror in New Orleans. Such terror and sadness, tragedy and misery, never mind the fear and loss. Wouldn't you think that people, especially Christians, would be passionate about what they can do, what their Lord would expect of them? I know it, so why the endless speculation about how the gay people caused it? I'm not going to go into my opinions on it because I've been there and done that. I am going to say that I find it impossible not to take it personally and for every 'wicked' and 'deserving of damnation' gay person I hear condemned, all I can see or think about is my son.
Why is it so clear to see how wicked Hitler was for trying to decide who should live or die purely for one aspect of their lives, yet it's acceptable for the people who spout love and charity the most to scream from the rooftops that homosexuality deserves such judgement and retribution?
Why should MY SON deserve such hatred from people he has never met, who, I have to say HE would be the first to help should they need it?
Just as I want to get in the face of every tutting old lady who doesn't get a sweet smile from my beautiful boy but is treated to his fear filled face before it turns away, Just as I want to grab everyone Seth may need and say " he can't see very well, please please help him..don't let him get hurt, or teased or cross because he can't do everything...I want to face up to every single person who would dare to suggest or even think that my son, my first born deserves all kinds of hideous terror or misery because he loves another man. I want to make them feel even a tiny amount of the pain, humiliation, fear, misery that they cause so many people and their mothers ( and fathers of course, good ones that is, not the stupid ones who bleat about it all being a phase and let's not talk about it and it'll go away, idiots) Not very christian, am I, today? Well that'll be because it is really, really tough being a mother sometimes. BUT, I am beyond thrilled to be this man's mother. I know that he is beloved and great and a blessing to this world, I do really know that ignorance isn't bliss at all and that anyone willing to pass up the chance to know and love someone purely because one aspect of their life is worrying, or unknown, or misunderstood, whatever that one thing may be, is missing so many chances for growth and love that they are only actually punishing themselves. Foolish people. Yes it's actually pretty great being a mum really.

The sex of a lampshade.

You know life is pretty good all in all because no matter how bad things may seem it is possible to grab a laugh most days. All I need to do is walk around and keep my ears open and I'm guaranteed a chuckle or 3.
Down here is Devon there is a distinct accent, not everyone has it but a true devonian will warm the cockles of your heart by the way they speak, it is unchanged through time, this accent, and I would put money on it being pretty hard to understand if you aren't familiar with it. One of my favourite parts of the Devon and Cornwall way of speaking is the way everything has a gender. Not just cars and boats, as we all know they are female but everything...today I learned that a lampshade is male.
I was at one of my favourite haunts and was wandering behind an elderly couple..
"Here, whaddyoo think of un?" Said Mrs elderly.
"well, I don mind 'un but 'ees a bit dark id'n 'ee?" Mr Elderly replied.
If they'd have asked what I thought, I'd have said 'ee was most defnutly ugly but I curd'nt 'ave swored ee was a boy one.
This is also a marvellous place to live if you're not in a hurry. No-one is in a hurry here, not if they belong, if you'm a grockle or an Emmet then mayhaps you'll know all about that finger tapping and clock watching stuff but not if you belong.
You can want to get things done quickly and with the best intentions in the world set yourself a time schedule, but just don't rely on other people joining in on your enthusiasm for punctuality.
Oooh, just going to pop in and get some bread...rush rush, grab, run..great only one person ahead of me in the queue......
"Hello Bar! ( it is almost compulsory to shorten everyones name here to the shortest possibility) I abm seen you in ages, how's father?"
And Barbara ( AKA Bar) will tell all, everything, from birthdays to bowels we'll hear every detail. I have been in a line and shown poetry written by teenage sons ( I kid you not) and this is all by complete and utter strangers....you don't want to hear the conversations I could have with family members!!
Actually, my dear sister Julie came to me in the depths of despair one day when she had found herself telling the lady in the Deli what she had watched on TV the night before. She has said she saw herself in a flash of miserable insight and knew that it was a matter of time before she started talking about feminine dryness on the number 40 bus.
It's all just so cosy, living here. People down here think of London as a foreign country and many older people ( and too many younger people) have never been out of the county They are genuinly baffled as to why anyone would want to go anywhere else, havn't we got it all right here?
It is true heaven as a mother of beautiful children to live here, if you're a germaphobe, don't come here with sweet offspring because hair stroking and cheek pinching is all in a day's parenting.
" Oh now, there, look at un..he's bleddy 'andsome, no getting away from it is there Dor?" Doreen will, of course, agree and both will bend down and put their wrinkly faces right up to said child and begin a conversation that could last a very long time. Don't try to get away before Doreen and friend, who is almost certainly called Marg, have had their fill.
It's a bit difficult being mother to a beautiful autistic child...Isaac takes umbridge at being spoken to and luckily he seems to have a stern enough glare to put off any potential cheek pinchers, he is so impressive in his ability to behave as if either he, or they, are invisible that almost always the poor souls just itching to chat with my big eyed boy seem to shrink and scuttle away, feeling very hard done by I shouldn't wonder.
I love living here, when we went on the moors last week the boys told everyone we had been to Ponyland.....is that a by product of having lived so close to Disneyland for the first part of their lives? Everything that is fun must be a 'land'
Right, that's me done for the day, I'm off to sofaland to relax before retiring for the night, ahhhhh bleddy well perfick.

Lead boots and a cheery smile.

I didn't know what to write about today until I got my inspiration from a board I go to ....... I was reading a few posts and was struck by how different people see life in different ways, you know the old half full, half empty deal.
People we meet in life all have such a profound affect on us, some will light up a room with a cheery smile, even when you know that life is as bleak as it can get and others....well, when you have to walk through life with them it feels like they lend you a sturdy pair of lead boots, trudge, trudge, drag, scuff.
It won't be long before I become a shouter at the screen person, my brother and father in law yell at the TV and so, because I find this so hysterical I have installed a 'don't you dare ever do that' programme in my brain.
I am pretty certain I won't be able to stop myself from shouting at the computer though, I do it in my head already, I absolutely laugh at loud ( LOL!! get me, what a computer nerd I don't just type it, I actually DO it! LOL again, in fact I might even ROFL but certainly won't ever ROFPMSL because I have fantastic pelvic floor muscles) but the day is close at hand when I just know I will be completely unable to stop myself from yelling "CHEER UP FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!!" because I sometimes forget that I don't actually know these people, it feels like I know them and whilst I am eternally grateful to the many fabulous and positive people I have come to know on-line ( and wouldn't you know it, I got my husband via the internet, marvellous !) There are ( of course, it is inevitable) going to those who don't open the curtains to let the sun shine in with a cheery " GOOD MORNING GOD" they drag back the drapes and mutter "GOOD GOD, MORNING!"
I have become a bit of a tough nut in my quest for brighter thoughts and more positive feelings, it is marvellously liberating to actually gather the courage to click on the 'end' button and delete the negativity.
I'm not talking about genuine sadness or tragedy etc I am talking about endless woe and the inability to see ANY kind of brightness even on the sunniest day ( oh the sun hurts my eyes! Did I tell you about my prickly heat? Have you seen how much sunscreen costs?My lawn just died in this weather)
I no longer visit places via the WWW that might do nothing but make me worry, I don't spend time with people who can't look at the bright side of things, I don't mean be terminally cheerful, good grief that'd be torture in itself wouldn't it? But if there is no joy to be had in even the good things you're just going to have to find someone else to keep your misery company.
My Nana Collins was so awful she was a delight to be with, some people can be really grumpy and still brighten your day, Nana was one of those.
She was at mum's house one day when I was heavily pregnant with Jordan and I was having some really impressive braxton hicks contractions , they were doozies and were making me "whoooof" at the end, Nana was not one to be outdone or out noticed and every time I "whoofed" she would " oooh my hip"
That afternoon has to go down in history as one of the only days my pelvic floor muscles let me down but I am not ashamed as mother peed herself too, in fact she told me to pretend to have a couple of "whoofers" just to see if Nana would " ooh my hip" louder than I "whoooofed" She won, hands down of course.
We were almost tempted to invite her along for the delivery just to see if she could manage to dislocate her arthritic and waiting to be replaced hip just as Jordan crowned but as luck would have it he came without notice during her favourite soap so we skipped that invite.
Hoorah for cheery smiling people.....even online people whose faces I don't even see, I can tell by reading what you write if you are cheery smilers or this is horrendous but look what good is coming from it kind of people and I will be back to read more.
As for lead boots, I am more of a flip flop or bare feet girl.

Pick on someone your own size!

I'm going to get this off my chest. I feel a guilty in a huge way because this has only truly bugged me since Dan came 'out', before then I didn't give it too much, if any thought. At least I can say that in not giving it much thought I wasn't guilty of joining in.
In what? I hear you yell in frustration at my not getting to the point.

WHY oh WHY, when there is any kind of horror or tragedy of the enormous natural kind is it immediately blamed on gay people?
AIDS...oh ho...that'll be God showing us how evil gay people are and wiping them out in a miserable and horrifying way. Whoops, made a mistake as even innocent babies are dying, hetrosexuals living God's way are dying....humph, God doesn't make mistakes, ever, so that must be stupid people making mistakes and being judgemental and yikes.... they'd better watch out in case God sends a horrible plague to teach the nasty narrow minded people a lesson.
The latest and horrific nightmare in New Orleans.....can you believe that it is, by some, being blamed on gay people again...God wanted to wipe out the evil gay people again, a gay festival was about to be held so of course God set out to punish the gays who thought to bring such evil to the state. Hmmm wonder why He didn't wait til the festival was in full swing and then He'd have been able to really do some damage and get a whole load of gays all at once!
WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH PEOPLE?
I can understand perhaps that the odd individual might think bizarre things but when these things are said by supposedly God fearing and God worshipping people I am more than infuriated.
The first and foremost thing that we learn about God is that He made us.
We are taught as children that He loves us.
We are told repeatedly that we are to love one another.
We shouldn't judge.
God loves us. ALL OF US. EQUALLY. Now it is pretty hard to take in that He loves the truly wicked people as much as the near perfect ones, but He does. He knows each and every one of us and knows the WHOLE story. This is why He has told us that WE are to love one another, WE are to forgive one another, not judge, not hate.
One of the greatest gifts we have is free will, Heavenly Father has given every one of us the right to choose how we live our lives and nothing could be greater..now, if He gave us this gift, do you suppose that He gave it with the proviso that if he didn't agree or like what we did with our lives He would come down and wipe us off the face of the earth? Absolutely not matey.
I'm pretty sure that if that was the case, if God is in His heaven looking down on us and thinking " Hmmmmm, that behaviour is making me pretty mad, think I'll nip down and smite them" He would make a bee line for pedophiles, rapists, murderers, abusers.......why in the name of all that's bloody ridiculous would He waltz right past that bunch of ( oh shoot, better stop before I sound judgemental and call that kettle black, not that there is anything wrong with black kettles of course but you get my drift) to wipe out a group of people that He made, who just happen to be attracted to others of the same sex?
Yes I understand that it can be a bit freaky to imagine if you are totally heterosexual, the very thought of me having to 'get jiggy' with a bosom is enough to make my legs get the collywobbles.Don't even begin to make me think about anything lower down than a bosom or I will have the vapours.( although I will admit that a nice flat tummy is quite attractive so there's room for a bit of female adulation in me I suppose)
I also know that among the gay population there are bound to be some really scarey and bad people - but they are NOT bad because they are gay, they are bad because they are bad.
I absolutely and categorically will not believe that any disasters have been sent to this earth purely because of homosexuality. Listed in the bible are many sins that angered God enough to make him send the first and only flood to destroy all mankid and the list is long and detailed...it doesn't say " Let God destroy all the gay people" Actually it does mention false prophets a fair bit and people who speak of God's will falsely...whoa, does that mean He is angered by people using His name to spread lies and falsehoods?
I think so, but I don't know enough to say for sure.
I can't say what God wants, thinks, feels or does unless I have had first hand experience and can bear testimony to it. I have had first hand experience of God's miracles, He has stepped in and taken my hand more times than I can recall. I know that He loves ME. I know that he gave me my children and He loves them, all of them. I know, without even needing to think, that God is a fair and loving God.
I know that I was given my children by a God who knows me and knows what I am capable of. Just as I love my children, even when they are really pushing every button I have. Just as I love the easy going ones as much as the funny ones as much as the strong willed and feisty ones, I know that God loves us all the same. He might not like what we do, He may wish we did things differently ... I would put money on the fact that He weeps over the children He has lost to evil and greed but I know He loves us all. He will deal with us all, in His way, on His terms and in His time.
I pity beyond explaination, anyone who really believes that the God they worship would pick out one aspect of humanity and bellow damnation? who would choose to worship a God who throws aside any good, any great and marvellous traits or personalities purely because of a persons sexuality? I wish I could show these people MY God....they would simply love to know Him, just as I do.