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Typical.
Not much to blog about today, it feels like one of those days that is spent running on the spot.
Isaac's speech therapist came to the house today after school to see how he is doing and catch up with him, the school have told her how mute he is at school.....well I think I can quite safely say that she saw how unmute he is at home! He was very loud.....ignored her so perfectly even she was impressed and then, THEN..... yegads... the devil's spawn came to tea!! What in the name of all that's psychotic came over the boy? He just went so beserk that I was hard put to make a joke of it. He screamed and kicked, fought and screamed and screamed some more. Eventually Beverley the nice speech therapist sort of scuttled out of the front door with a thankful look on her face and I think she said she would call me, it looked as if her lips were saying something like that but she could just have easily have been saying ' bless me father and pass the garlic'. I think she was impressed at the way I tucked the spirited youngster under my arm and carried on talking to her as if I didn't actually realise just how completely demonic he was being.
I have no idea why he did it, it may have been that after the 3rd whack in the head from the flying power ranger binoculars, I took them away and put them out of reach.......hard to say.
Within minutes of Beverley leaving and a 4 minute spell in his room he came out as meek as a lamb and the child possessed was no more. We won't think about him being 14 and having that kind of rage will we? WILL WE????
I am old. I feel old. My like aged friends are talking about new conservatories and quiet holidays without their children who have left to go to college. They talk about retirement. Ha ha ha ha ha ha...... H and I talk about how we will raise these boys and then just sort of crumble in a heap of osteoporitic bones and pray they visit us at christmas, as we sit in a stupor facing each other in an old folks' home ( where neither of us will be incontinent because we have our pride) Please let us be in an old folks home, because I don't want to cook meat and 2 veg for H when the boys are out in the wide blue yonder, I want a fish finger and some bread and marg. at 4 pm and to be tucked in bed with a talcumed bottom by 7.30pm. I shall be worn out by then, when Eli is 18 I shall be 61. That's not too young to be in a home. It's just right. Let those other old biddies walk around the world and work in charity shops if they like, I'm sitting down in a plastic covered chair, in some nice stretchy elastic waisted trews, reading a large print book and waiting for someone to bring me cake and cups of cocoa, just let anyone try and talk me out of it.
I had a taste of it today when mum gave me a lovely dinner in her front room on one of those little foldy tables in front of me, some warm crumble and custard for pudding and then left me all alone in the quiet.....heaven. Never let it be said that I am difficult to please.
Lawks, H has been ill, chest infection, he has been very poorly with absolutely no sympathy from me because I have been feeling hard done by. If anyone is going to wallow in bed it should be me in my state of mourning and heartache......he can get a cough and sore throat any old time, selfish as ever, trust a man to get ill and even have the doctor verify it and give him anti biotics just when all the attention should be on ME in this house right now. I can't get to be the centre of attention even at a time like this, that is SO typical.
H must be feeling better because there is some mighty zippy music coming from the bedroom. Well, let him feel better but the music will be the only zippy thing in that bedroom tonight I can tell you. It's all very comforting to think of your dearly departed watching over you but there are times it could be a bit unnerving.
So, that's it for another day....I'm definately finding it hard to write much at the moment, if you think that's bad you should hear me try and speak, hopeless. Mumbling nonsensicle muttering. Complete pathetic-ness unless I am shrieking. Great stuff.
Isaac's speech therapist came to the house today after school to see how he is doing and catch up with him, the school have told her how mute he is at school.....well I think I can quite safely say that she saw how unmute he is at home! He was very loud.....ignored her so perfectly even she was impressed and then, THEN..... yegads... the devil's spawn came to tea!! What in the name of all that's psychotic came over the boy? He just went so beserk that I was hard put to make a joke of it. He screamed and kicked, fought and screamed and screamed some more. Eventually Beverley the nice speech therapist sort of scuttled out of the front door with a thankful look on her face and I think she said she would call me, it looked as if her lips were saying something like that but she could just have easily have been saying ' bless me father and pass the garlic'. I think she was impressed at the way I tucked the spirited youngster under my arm and carried on talking to her as if I didn't actually realise just how completely demonic he was being.
I have no idea why he did it, it may have been that after the 3rd whack in the head from the flying power ranger binoculars, I took them away and put them out of reach.......hard to say.
Within minutes of Beverley leaving and a 4 minute spell in his room he came out as meek as a lamb and the child possessed was no more. We won't think about him being 14 and having that kind of rage will we? WILL WE????
I am old. I feel old. My like aged friends are talking about new conservatories and quiet holidays without their children who have left to go to college. They talk about retirement. Ha ha ha ha ha ha...... H and I talk about how we will raise these boys and then just sort of crumble in a heap of osteoporitic bones and pray they visit us at christmas, as we sit in a stupor facing each other in an old folks' home ( where neither of us will be incontinent because we have our pride) Please let us be in an old folks home, because I don't want to cook meat and 2 veg for H when the boys are out in the wide blue yonder, I want a fish finger and some bread and marg. at 4 pm and to be tucked in bed with a talcumed bottom by 7.30pm. I shall be worn out by then, when Eli is 18 I shall be 61. That's not too young to be in a home. It's just right. Let those other old biddies walk around the world and work in charity shops if they like, I'm sitting down in a plastic covered chair, in some nice stretchy elastic waisted trews, reading a large print book and waiting for someone to bring me cake and cups of cocoa, just let anyone try and talk me out of it.
I had a taste of it today when mum gave me a lovely dinner in her front room on one of those little foldy tables in front of me, some warm crumble and custard for pudding and then left me all alone in the quiet.....heaven. Never let it be said that I am difficult to please.
Lawks, H has been ill, chest infection, he has been very poorly with absolutely no sympathy from me because I have been feeling hard done by. If anyone is going to wallow in bed it should be me in my state of mourning and heartache......he can get a cough and sore throat any old time, selfish as ever, trust a man to get ill and even have the doctor verify it and give him anti biotics just when all the attention should be on ME in this house right now. I can't get to be the centre of attention even at a time like this, that is SO typical.
H must be feeling better because there is some mighty zippy music coming from the bedroom. Well, let him feel better but the music will be the only zippy thing in that bedroom tonight I can tell you. It's all very comforting to think of your dearly departed watching over you but there are times it could be a bit unnerving.
So, that's it for another day....I'm definately finding it hard to write much at the moment, if you think that's bad you should hear me try and speak, hopeless. Mumbling nonsensicle muttering. Complete pathetic-ness unless I am shrieking. Great stuff.
posted by The other me | 7:06 pm
2 Comments:
I'm with B. I love you Mumbling nonsensicle muttering too. It makes me realize that I am truly not at all alone in my insane desire to sleep until the children are all grown and successful.
Take comfort in the fact that if all your readers and friends were there with you Helen, we would come bearing chocolate and compassion.
Good luck with Isaac...you're doing a fabulous job with him...even on his darkest days :)
~Lisa~
I'll third that ;-)
I love reading your blog.
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