Saturday is a special day....

Today isn't bad anyway....although I am beginning to be more and more wary of saying how great something is, seems every time I do it all goes to the dogs within minutes!
Yesterday was a great day to begin with, we were told that the benefits for Isaac were all going through and back paid from July 12th...this means that not only will our income be doubled but we will have a lump sum that means our dear old car can be fully serviced and get new brakes, we can pay off some outstanding bills and get straight, once we're straight we should be able to live without stressing about how we will pay everything and there will be enough for treats and extras for the boys!
I don't want to hear any chawing about money grabbing ne're-do wells or sponging because this money isn't means tested, every family with a child who had disabilities can apply for this extra money, if, after vigorous testing and checking it is deemed that the child ( and adults actually) have needs beyond the norm , they will be awarded money to cover the costs and ensure that they will have a standard of life elevated to overcome the difficulties they and their families face. So, when faced with the harsh reality that your child is facing lifelong obstacles, it is certainly made more manageable when the financial burdens are lifted. Great Britain.....can't say it often enough!
Isaac and I have been having our weekly outings with the boys and mums at his nursery, it is astounding to see the difference this makes, yesterday he actually handed a toy to Rhys! Usually he will hide behind me and whisper "you show maffyew my pow dranger thord" or " tell weece me dot blue pow dranger" yesterday he stood next to me and asked me to show Matthew and Joe and then very gingerly, with the very tips of his fingers and his arm stretched out as far as it will go he handed his beloved power ranger sword to Rhys. This is a massive step and only made possible because we go once a week for lunch and a playdate with 3 little boys and their mummies. Now speech therapy has it's place, the doctors can advise, but the nitty gritty of it is that by having fun, with no time limit, no restrictions, no routines, no pressure, he is seeing that little boys aren't scary creatures and won't hurt him, they don't push him, they just talk to him and show him toys and they do all the things little boys do while mummy sits close by and has fun with the other mummies....he has gone from being stuck to my side or behind me, to sitting next to the boys when they eat and now handing a toy over!
When money is pretty much spoken for before it even reaches your bank account, play dates and lunches are a distant dream, now we can do this and check out swimming lessons or after school activities that he can have fun at and learn more.....what a huge step for our family!! ( and lets face it, it is a known and proven fact that when faced with 2 hours of breath holding and screaming over a pair of shoes, if you can see some advantages that have come along because of these very things, they seem infinitely less irritating.)
The day went downhill pretty fast after that, I went shopping with Isaac,my mum, dad and sister, we came back here to show gramma the much adored motorbike ( and stroller that was waiting for me when I got back oh joy)
Can I even stand to tell you the rest? If I say 'Sophie' can you just imagine the rest? Probably not, mum and dad were here and saw it and couldn't believe it, this time though we had Jordan, my placid and laid back happy boy adding to it and suffice to say that he was standing in front of H, arms apart yelling " come on then, fuckin' let me have it...want to try it with me?"
Horrible.....Sophie telling me to tell H to just fuck off and die, all because she was told to get out of our room and mind her own business. 4pm, still in her night clothes, having slouched around for hours saying she was bored, telling us to shut up and she doesn't have to do anything if she doesn't want to, suddenly deciding that she would put groceries away ( because she wanted to grab any treats before they hit the cupboards) We are so tired of her behaving like some kind of diva, deserving unending adoration, serving and respect without doing a thing to earn it, speaking to us as if we are scum under her feet. She stays out until 4am, lies in bed until 2pm and then queens around making the house stink of either her cigarette smokey clothes or like a whores handbag with perfume and nail varnish. She sat smoking in the garden 2 days ago, right in front of my face, when I asked her if she was smoking she laughed and said " No ( duh)" I quite calmly told her that I wouldn't tolerate her smoking on my property that such disrespect was beyond my understanding and sent her away until she had finished.
Jordan has been out for work for 2 weeks, I have let him enjoy the freedom but enough is enough, he now knows that the holiday is over.....he stood up for Sophie yesterday because he is unaware of the back ground story, of how we listen to her endless rudeness and vicious mouth. He didn't understand that H's fury at Sophie wasn't because she was putting groceries away but because she so blatently refuses to ever do anything when asked, yet takes over when it is something she thinks is her right.
She stormed out ( after my having tried 3 times to speak with her reasonably but being told that I had better shut my fucking mouth because she didn't have any intention of listening unless I was going to tell my husband to fuck off and die) she said that she would rather sleep in MacDonalds car park than anywhere near us to which I harshly said " bye then" .She didn't come home last night and Jordan said she was lying on the floor of a friends house hysterical with grief, which actually means she was having the best time of her life surrounded by equally selfish teenagers telling her how hard done by she is and sympathising with her.
How harsh I am, how uncaring and unmaternal. I guess years of being called a whore and being told to fuck off will do that to you, even if you are a mother.
Naturally, I am sick with worry and every news channel or newspaper I see is full of 3 beautiful teenage girls who have been grabbed, raped and murdered in the streets right near their homes this week..one snatched right outside her front door at 4am...was her mother just asleep after having walked the floors until 2am feeling sick because she didn't know where her child was but feeling useless because her daughter had told her to shut the fuck up and mind her own business, it's her life and she'll do what she damn well chooses to do?
Another had just moved with her family to a new flat in London, she was snatched by people in the neighbourhood and murdered, her body dismembered and stuffed in a place no child should ever end up...had her mother told her to stay at home? Was she worried about her child being in a strange area? Did this daughter scream that she had a life to live and she'd go out if she wanted to and who the hell did her mother think she was to try and stop her? How many of the children yell that they know how to look after themselves and tell their parents that they are stupid and old and don't know anything?
Sometimes it's impossible to know what to do next.
I know I am beyond tired of living in the middle, trying to stop her killing H or him going for her...3 little boys in the middle and now a big boy in the mix.....am I the only one capable of actually ( PMT included) thinking of the long term effects of what I say or do before I actually say or do them?
Funny how in this whole family I am the only one deemed to be suffering from mental health issues yet I am the only one in control enough to not cause anyone ELSE to be disturbed ( maybe that's it..I am too in control, If I let rip and told THEM all what I think and let MY emotions carry me to the place that allows you to do what feels good at the time I would be completely and utterly without problems! ) Can't help but hear the pyschiatrist telling me again that actually I'm not ill I really DO have a crap life, if only there were a pill to take--- arsenic anyone?!?
All is not lost though, I have a new stroller to polish and stroke and look at and fold and unfold and push, I have a delicious brown eyed baby to sit in it and tell myself that he will never be a horrible teen and even if he is I shall be so unbelievably insane by then it won't matter.
I shall be wearing crimpolene trousers and stretchy purple sweaters, comfy mismatched shoes and feeding the neighbourhood cats leftover cottage pie. The highlight of my week will be buying the TV guide and planning my schedule ( oh shit that's already the highlight!) and meeting my creaky old sister at the scouthut for W.I and buying homemade goosberry jam. She will smell of dogs because she is already a grandma and her babies are 2 springer spaniels called Jiggy and Meers, they are beloved and I give her 2 years before she is having their portraits painted, doing them christmas stockings and telling them to come and kiss mummy, she denies it will ever happen but I have an uncanny eye for the future sometimes.
I will smell of....hmmmmm what WILL I smell of? not wee because I am never letting my pelvic floor muscles relax, incontinence shall not be my demon! I shall smell of lemons and vinegar because I already have a yearning to make my own cleaning products and white vinegar, bicarb and lemons will clean anything. ( no kidding, wrap paper towels soaked in white vinegar on those limescale old faucets and they come up like new in about 30 minutes!).I shall spend all day cleaning and all the next day dragging H around to see how it is STILL clean!
My Daniel will still love me and take me out for the day and cook me lovely dinners, Jordan will think of me when his kids are driving him insane and Sophie will be a mother of 4 girls all just like her ( and living at least 300 miles away please Lord) pleading forgiveness for being such a hideous cow for so long in her growing years, we will have saturday evening phone calls with her telling me how bloody awful her life is and how she can't understand how her children can be so mean and selfish...and I shall love them and forget they ever made me so sad by forgetting so often that anyone else matters.
In the way of all mothers I shall forget it all and tell mothers of horrible teenagers that I can't give them advice because my children were never a bit of trouble, just as I tell everyone that my babies slept all night from 2 weeks and never cried when teething.
Ahh mothers, the worlds best amnesiacs and the worlds most convincing liars.