Some things, well, they just aren't me.

I think my councelling is going OK....no more horrible and overwhelming nasty stuff, plenty of talking and working out things that I can change or let go of, very good.
I really like Jan, she is good for me and she is a good therapist,not patronising ( ugh ever had a patronising do gooder that has NO idea ,but talks as if they know it all?!?) If I met Jan elsewhere I would like her, a good basis for trusting her enough to tell her the deep and dark stuff.
I begin to have problems when I start to hear the tree hugging bits sneak in. I think my face might show it, if no other way by the absolute frozeness of it, I have to work so hard at not sniggering, that I can feel my face do 'the look.' Now I know, by the very fact that I need this therapy, that I am not quite alright. Not certifiable but not quite hunky dory. I'm not sure, however, that I will ever be able to do some of the things suggested.
I can't envision ever standing in front of a mirror and telling myself 3 good things about me. Blimey O'Reilly.
I don't do mirrors, I have to look in a mirror to do my hair, so I look at my hair. If I do make-up, I look at the bit I'm making up. Full body mirrors....not on your life, Same reason I don't do photos, to see it all as a full picture...ye-gads.
I am beginning to wonder how I will cope when I have lost more weight, when the time comes to wear clothes that show ..... ME. I am safe in my long, loose, hiding clothes. Nice clothes, make me invisible clothes. They are beginning to make me look lumpy, in places that I am less lumpy. They have gone from tight and ooof, don't bend down because there won't be blood moving, wheeeeeeee can't breathe, to ooh, sliding off. Knickers that are so high up, I could almost keep my neck warm in a cool wind.They used to roll down if I moved quickly. I might, you know, have to THROW THEM AWAY SOON. What then? Smaller loose clothes for a while I suspect.SMALLER CLOTHES! I have smaller clothes, lots of them. Brand new ones. I am a bit scared of wearing them, how bizarre is that? Bizarre because I want it very badly. I have some girlie clothes, I mean feminine ones, not black, dark blue or grey. Imagine. Today I picked up a pretty bra. Then I put it back down. Pretty. Feminine. Womanly. Imagine that. I can't, quite. Yet.
So, if I can't picture what is to most women so normal, so every day and ordinary..can you imagine me standing in front of a mirror proclaiming inner love and utmost confidence in my charms and outer beauty?? Get out of here!
I am setting some teeny tiny goals that are so exciting to me, that I can actually, almost, if I squint and hold my breath, imagine doing. I want a photo taken of me and my children, scratch that, LOTS of photos, snaps, portraits. With me happy and relaxed and not looking as though I am on day release from a secure unit, or hiding behind anything, everything, or not actually even IN the picture because I TAKE the picture so I don't have to be in it and see it and cringe.
I'm glad that the weight I can't wait to get rid of is going, it is going to be such a massive change for me that I am going to need this time to get used to it. I like the small changes that I see already..I am beginning to believe that the big ones will really happen. Can I imagine being brave enough to be the real me, on show, without this fat that hides me? Being big is a great way to be invisible, the bigger you are, the less you matter to the world. I think I am getting ready to be seen, I wonder if I am ready to do the seeing and look at myself? Lawks, one step at a time lady!

Oh, and another thing.....

I miss my dad. Really miss him. I feel like a mad woman who is endlessly taking to herself.
"Please don't let it be true"
"well it is, get on with it"
" But how come all these other even older men are still here...and who said they could wear those jumpers? My dad wore those jumpers, no-one else should be allowed to wear them, somebody stop old men wearing my dad's jumpers"
I hate knowing and actually believing that he is gone, MY dad.
I relive that whole time in the hospital, we were so calm...why were we calm? If we had known then how we would feel now, would we have been any different? I think not. I think he dictated how we were. His spirit was so huge that we were calmed by it. When I think back and remember, I don't feel a bit calm, or peaceful. The nurses at the time kept asking me if we all understood how serious the whole situation was, of course we knew, of course we understood, i'm not sure we believed it is all... they just couldn't believe that we weren't in melt down , we still laughed and joked, we were still absolutely 'us'...I'm so glad about that. I wish ( for me) that we could have tried more to get him well, but I am glad for him that he went quickly.
I'm not sure I looked at him enough,even though I actually sat and made myself stare at him near the end, drank him in, what if I forget his face? What if we forget the things he said, that no-one else says? He called me Lily. I hated it when I was younger but the older I got the more I loved it. I don't want anyone else to call me that but I miss hearing him say it. I miss "cheery-bye"
Funny how the things that drove us crazy when he was alive, are the very things we miss most. I wish he was here to nag me about my car, I wish he was here to fuss about mum and ask me to order ridiculous things from ebay for her. I wish he was here to get christmas and birthdays wrong. When asked to buy fruit for christmas he literally bought 3 of everything, 3 satsumas, 3 apples.....HA! He was the worst back seat driver ever known, he'd insist on going a 'shortcut' every time and we'd invariably end up going twice as far. Once, when I was stopped at traffic lights, he was tapping my leg and saying "RIGHT!! you have to turn RIGHT!" So, I pulled into the right hand lane..only for him to say " what are you DOING??" Because it wasn't a one way street and so I had just pulled into the WRONG side of the road! He made me panic every time he came in my car.
I wish he was here to be H's friend, I loved it that they got on so well, H would go with dad on his 'jaunts' and they would probably have the best time, not talking to each other and just getting on with the task in hand.Fish and chips on the way home,
I wish he was here for us to ignore, or take for granted. I wish he was just here.
Bloody cancer.

Oh but look....


4lbs down this time, if I can do that every 2 weeks, well WHOOHOO!! It's coming off It's coming off!!

Ho hum........

I am bored. I know we shouldn't say that, and people of intelligence should always be able to find things to do but I AM SO BORED! I have a fat burning exercise video staring at me, I think H is still awake though and some things should never be done in front of a loved one, believe you me, that is definately one of them!
There is always housework to do and with the boys home from school this week , there is more of that than ever.....but that's not very thrilling is it?
I would like to be able to walk past my dining room without wondering if that mountain or ironing is going to fall over and smother me, if I could see the worktop in the kitchen, the bit by the phone, that mysteriously collects all those things that can't quite get thrown out, (we might need it one day), but isn't deserving of a place of it's own, well, that'd be splendid. I could do all these things but it'll all get undone again tomorrow, immediately....why do that to myself? I shall add to the ironing pile though, clean washing threatening to topple and cover us all is one thing, anything whiffy is another thing, nope, not in my house.
I am going to burn some fat people...it's 10pm and I am going to do it, exercise and see if I can't get this body of mine to kick off some weight a bit quicker...what in the world is it thinking, is it feeling that having held onto such blubber for so long it is loathe to lose it or what? It is coming off but so slowly it's hardly noticeable and I want to NOTICE!! I have a feeling that once I have shaken my stuff with Rosemary I will come over all lively and then.....well, who knows what time I will go to sleep!! I shall leave you to picture me doing aerobics..kind, aren't ?

I am SO the mummy!

I am unashamedly vain about how gorgeous my children are. I make no bones about the fact that they are positively and utterly beautiful.




So then, I preen and puff and allow myself the absolute glory that comes with having given birth to such splendid works of humanity.Seems perfectly fair doesn't it, when you've done the tough bits, like growing them, stretch marks, wobbley bits, teething, no sleep, tantrums, school runs, doctors appointments, snot, nappies, fighting, whining, treading on lego in bare feet, never being able to wee without having to wipe dribbles of boy wee off the seat first, when you do all that ( and more) doesn't it seem fair that you get to snag all the praise, soak up every single comment andintake of breath from strangers and friends alike when they look at your babies and are forced to comment on their outstanding gloriousness? You bet your bottom dollar matey that I am well aware that this is all down to me, Ok the fact is there that some genes were given to me from the daddy ones ( which sounds like I am such a hoochy tart, there are only 2 daddy ones, both husbands and each fathering 3 of the said beautiful people each)Well, yes, they did help make these people but you know, you can give anyone the ingredients for a great meal, doesn't mean it will work out delicious does it? There you go, you understand what I am saying.
So, you can imagine that I find myself in a position that leaves me flummoxed. I have 3 children with some pretty beautiful dark skin, Seth is a light olive and has fairer hair, green eyes, Isaac and Eli though, dark skin, deep brown eyes and dark hair. I have been asked, can you believe it, the question..and not once or twice but SO often....." are they yours?" " Have you adopted them?" " Are they your real children?"
I don't think I will ever quite get used to answering that question ( especially when one man asked if they were my 'actual' children or grandchildren, spit in his eye!!) they are so much a part of me, so obviously grown under my heart, and part of my soul, they are MINE and the fact that it isn't obvious, takes my breath away in a not very pleasant way.
Does it seem fair that the mummy does all the hard work and gets to puke and ache and push and tear, her body gets a pummelling and is left looking like a balloon that has been blown up and let down and blown up and let down again, it leaks and never quite returns to that firm and pre-baby state. All that and what happens? the beloved infant is an absolute replica of the daddy one!! No-one ever asks if H is the father of these boys, one glance and it is clear to all that he is the reason for their being. The sense of injustice when he was a bit hopeless at the birh of Seth and Isaac, in fact with Isaac he was only there for 10 minutes, arriving for the finale and off again to have dinner with the other male relatives in celebration......He got the hang of it with Elijah and did very well indeed, but that's beside the point isn't it?
So, I am here to tell the internet world that I am TOO the mummy, not the nanny, granny, childminder, babysitter or friendly neighbour. I made them myself and did it very beautifully thankyou very much. I am the mummy. Clever, clever me.

Anyone wanna play?

Seth is home from school, with yet another hideous bout of 'some virus, just let it run it's course' h walked Isaac to school and took Elijah to gramma's, Seth came into bed with me, we heard H get back, " Quick" said I "daddy's home, pretend we're asleep" I woke up at NOON!! I love games like that! Oh and the sun is shining, at last, after days and days and days of rain. Ahhhhhhhhh, at last.

A tale of two titties.

Completely unrelated pictures, but how cute are they???


This will make you cry I think. I have 2 boobs, they have lived and loved and have seen some things in their time. I didn't have any to speak of until I was 15, then over the summer they simply 'were.' No little sprouts in a trainer bra, from nothing to 34c in a matter of weeks. Lawks. I never really liked them, they were responsible for rocketing me into the limelight in a horribly uncomfortable way. I wish, now I look back, that I had enjoyed the firm and voluptuous ones that I had in my late teens and twenties, I could have strut my slim, yet busty, self through life and been a bit gorgeous, had I the mind to. I didn't. I was very shy about my body and when I look at pictures of me in my size 10 jeans with my lovely bosoms in a t-shirt that fit, that didn't hang loose and shameful, I could scream for the years I felt I was ugly. Silly young twit.
0I sort of live through Sophie a bit, and although a part of me thinks maybe I should encourage a tad more modesty, because she is my daughter and her boobs are SO much bigger than mine were at 17, well, I am sad to know that the day will come when she looks down and sighs, wonders where those pert and firm womanly objects have gone and asks how in the name of all that's swinging did those pendulous great blobs take their place? So I look at her in her skimpy things and know that modesty will come either with age, or children ( I hope, please don't let her be a boob strutter when she is a mother, so undignified somehow)Gravity and stretch marks come to us all ( it does, if it hasn't come yet, don't be smug, those things are going south one day, like it or not)
My boobs grew with each pregnancy, if I bought a bigger bra, they filled it. It was like potting a plant, they grew and grew and they never went down, well they went down, but they didn't shrink. They hung. bigger and lower each time.
I hated those things, painful and heavy, taking my bra off each night was an experience never forgotten, the thwump as they fell would fill me with horror every night.
Whenever I went out I was the target of lewd comments, 44FF and impossible to hide, I would hear " nice tits" and cringe. Men would talk to my chest , always. Creeps.
So, I got rid of them.
I had a reduction. Oh what bliss. I was very firm with the surgeon and said that if I woke up and saw big boobs I would make him take me back. B cup please, little pert ones that would just sit there and not hurt me, no boils underneath, no sore neck, little 'ski-slopey' bosoms. I got them!! I kid you not, I showed EVERYONE, I loved them, I didn't care about scars, I just loved these little things that stayed where they were when my bra came off, not a slap or a thwump, just 'there.' Marvellous. I had 3 more babies and they didn't grow!! WHOOHOO! Still nice, tidy boobs, B cup, hmmmmm bit sad that the rest of me grew and they were more like a pimple on an elephants bum than boobs but rather that than the way they were before.
Now I am losing weight, I have been looking forward to the day when my boobs were bigger than my belly. Pretty bras and lacy bits.......guess what?
THEY ARE SHRINKING!! I put my bra on in the morning and there is a wrinkly space. In my B cup bra. I am nearly 44 and for the first time ever I am losing weight off two little bosoms that can't spare to lose any. LOOK you diet fairies, there is a veritable whale like amount of blubber on my belly..take that!!! My bum is big enough to block the sun,, if it were ever to come out, TAKE SOME OF THAT! Leave the little boobs alone, be nice. I like them just as they are, please don't leave me with empty sacks of skin, let me have my young bosoms, time has ravaged the rest, I liked having young boobs, be kind. LEAVE THE TITTIES ALONE!!!!!
Thankyou.

back in the saddle again.

Hoorah....something has clicked back into place, since the rotten thursday I had the worst 'bad' feeling, me, just felt bad inside and couldn't shake it. What that meant, of course, is the enthusiasm for the eating well has been SO HARD! I have stuck with it, but grumpily. Needless to say that made me feel more useless....etc etc etc. Hooray. The cloud has lifted. I feel good again, ready to show 'em what I am made of. This is the first tme EVER I have hit a low and stuck with it,not given in to the black voice that tells me I am useless, can't do it, should give up, won't be able to reach that goal. I DID it!! I feel even better than before about it...does this mean that I will do it? that soon, I will post pictures like Julie's showing a huge difference, a smiling me? A new and happy me? I CAN'T WAIT!!!
H was so great the other night, not saying the right thing, just the very fact that he told me how he feels and although this whole depression and councilling deal is almost impossible for him to understand, ( he says things like " so you really want to be happy? Well be happy then" a typical aspergers type thing to say!!) he wants to do whatever I need to feel that release. Good man.
So, tomorrow I am back, the blob blog will be written and we will be back on regular turf again. whoopdedoo.
Oh AND one of my old friends, who is funny and fun and has been to the states and come home has moved HERE! RIGHT HERE!! I can go and see her and she can come here and we can go out and do fun things. Hoorah again. And again.

That is SO not funny.

Now, I'm not saying that I don't adore my children, you all know I do, they are divine lumps of gorgeousness, especially when asleep. They aren't asleep yet, they have been awake for many hours now, noisily and sort of grizzlingly awake. We tried an outing, in the mended car ( which really really likes me, I put in £10 of petrol, which was getting me a pathetic 26 miles before garage holiday and we did..wait for it.....76 MILES before the gas light came on. WHOOHOO!!!!!!!!)but it rained and they didn't seem to appreciate the joy in my voice as I was yelling over the screaming " but LOOK we have done 37 miles and there's still petrol left!!" They wanted whatever toy was out of reach and whatever drink we didn't have and they wanted to BE THERE NOW!!!
We almost got there and the heavens opened, heavy rain that hurts and gets you very wet, very fast... with wind....sort of sideways rain that H didn't believe existed when he lived in L.A. he knows now that it is real, very real and happens even in may, when it's almost June.
We came home and had a nap. I went shopping and bought delicious things that would cheer grumpy boys up and let them use their mouths for things other than whining and fighting and even more whining. Talented kids, they can eat and whine at the same time.
We ate dinner, and cleaned up and not 12 minutes ago I sat down with a feeling of well being because we have done so much and so now, NOW it has to be time for bed..... It must be late. Soon I will glory in the delighful sight of 3 sleeping boys.
It is 5.21. That is SO not funny.

OK, enough breathing already.

I am coming out of my self imposed exile, I am on the verge of Ok-ness, particularly tonight, having watched a fabulous weekly show called grumpy old men,which makes me laugh-properly, can't beat that. I love grumpy old men, except when the one I live with takes things too far and begs for a smack in the head, or on the head( very satisfying on a bald head let me tell you)I so shouldn't laugh at his expense as he as been particularly sweet of late and even made himself talk to me, in a loving and supportive way,for probably at least half an hour, which is a long time when talking about emotional things is painful to you. We were both reassured when we realised that nothing had dropped off and the sky didn't fall down either. Maybe he will even be able to do it again, in a year or two,I like him, so no bald head smacking this week.
I have a gripe though, its about 'my space'. what IS that all about? I keep trying to read it, understand it, but my brain and eyes get insulted, they all seem so MANIC, busy busy, flashing things and noise and more noise, I can't ever seem to actually read one of these blogs. If I click on 'read this blog' I get told that either nothing has been written or I need to be a friend. I give in and scuttle back to my quiet blogs, my nice blogs with writing and sometimes a nice tune. Thankyou my gentle blogger friends, for your simple layouts and clear writing. I love you.
Oh...OH, my car is mended. At last. It is home and happy to have new shocks and a new airflow meter, not to mention the new throttle, and so it should. It cost a lot but not as much as the Toyota man wanted. I think my car likes me for spending so much money on it and is going to be kind right back and actually work.
It did me good to take a break, I have slept well for the past few days and that makes everything so much better. I spent a day or two with Dan and am reassured that he is fine, that he truly doesn't remember any of the horrors of that time so long ago. Slowly I am putting it all in it's place and very soon I will be able to grab and hold onto all the great things that life has to offer NOW. Never mind what was, there is so much right now to be had and enjoyed.

Taking a break.

I'm taking a time out...not for long I hope,just enough time to gather some good thoughts and breathe for while. I need some time where I don't have to think about anything much, which means not having to think to write either.
Hopefully things will soon be such that I can be me again and even perhaps be funny, I like funny. I miss it.

Planning some plans.

We are planning some plans ....is that fun or what? Holiday plans, where we are actualy going on a real break, to a place we haven't been before. We are going in august for a whole week and we are going to have some fun, oh yes we are.
I was weighed today.....2 weeks since last weigh in, I was so excited, ready to see the nurse step back in amazement at the enormous amount of weight I have lost. Guess how much I lost!





For heavens sake!!! No pizza when we were away, sticking to this diet like a gum to a shoe and TWO pounds?!?!?!? That went down well, I can tell you! At this rate, I could be, oh at least 1/2 an inch smaller by the time august comes around!! I am laying all the blame on the arrival of AF this morning. That better be the reason or I'm going to be REALLY grumpy about this.
I feel so much lighter than 2lbs...my scales and mums scales both say I lost at least 8lbs....GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!Two pounds. Where's the cake?

Laughter is the best medicine.

Always wear clean underwear in public, especially when working under your vehicle. From the Northwest Florida Daily News comes this story of a Crestview couple who drove their car to Walmart, only to have their car break down in the parking lot. The man told his wife to carry on with the shopping while he fixed the car in the lot.

The wife returned later to see a small group of people near the car. On closer inspection, she saw a pair of male legs protruding from under the chassis. Although the man was in shorts, his lack of underwear turned private parts into glaringly public ones. Unable to stand the embarrassment, she dutifully stepped forward, quickly put her hand UP his shorts, and tucked everything back into place. On regaining her feet, she looked across the hood and found herself staring at her husband who was standing idly by.

The mechanic, however, had to have three stitches in his forehead.

Nohing like a laugh is there??



Great news on the junkbucket front. The toyota dealer quoted us £1.266 to fix our car. Yikes. Between ebay and the breakers UK group I have found all the parts, ALL of them for £273. at most it will cost £100 to get them fitted. Spit in your eye Toyota dealership......honest Jim down the road gets my custom again!! The even better news ( sort of, can it get better than that?) is that once fixed it will use LESS PETROL! Less of that stuff that is now almost £1 a LITRE, oh hoorah hoorah. It will also, you know, keep going when I turn it on, it won't cough and die if I slow down ( which I am forced to do even when I don't want to sometimes, around schools and at red lights and things. ) I am almost giddy with excitement but am trying to hold onto that feeling should something really exciting happen, like getting weighed and hearing the nurse gasp in astonishment or something of that nature.
I am doing well on my 'new me' kick. My rings come off now, not that they need to but if they come off, there is always the chance that a new one might fit on and that would never be a bad thing.
My jeans also come off WITHOUT UNDOING THEM! Smaller ones don't go on yet unless I lie down and I am so SO too old for that malarchy.
I am excited to know the numbers of the weight loss, I have scales here but they are new and not the same as the doctors ones, I can't remember what I weighed on them...I have lost a PILE on mum's scales but if you lean backwards on hers you can lose another 5 pounds, so as happy as they make me, I can't quite do the 'look at me I am so skinny ' dance if I rely on those.
Part of the trouble when you have a lot of weight to lose is that feeling that it will take so long you might never do it. Feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the task before you can quite easily happen, and a nice cake and a pack or 3 of chocolate biscuits help you to sit and plan your next move. Tough being fat.
I am walking, imagine that. I almost like it. I really like the feeling when I have done it, that'll do for now.
I'm toying with the idea of buying a video. One that will make me want to leap about when everyone is asleep and feel energised and thin. Who wants to feel energised at night though ? I can't do it in the day for fear of being caught. Or seen. Or heard. The neighbours might think the end of the world has come when their foundations shake . It's important to think about the neighbours, especially when you have teenagers that throw parties when you are away.
I see big girls in their track suits with water bottle in hand, power walking, red faced and shiny. I am so impressed with them. I am sure that only the shallowest of nasty people would have anything but admiration for these women, but I just can't join them. I worry too much about what I would look like.
I wish I had someone to go with, make it more fun and more difficult to just stop and go home. Anyway I don't have headphones. I think you need headphones, I've never seen a power walker without them, so I really would look stupid if I was thumping along the road actually listening to the world, instead of some upbeat music spurring me on. H has got headphones, but the stuff that comes out of them makes me lose the will to live. Talks by historians aren't well known for encouraging fat ladies to walk faster, I think they make them stand stock still in horror that someone would actully choose to pump that directly into their eardrums, or at very least eat copious amounts of chocolate and cake.
Can you believe how utterly brilliant I am at excusing myself? You don't get to my size by giving in graciously. I have had years of getting myself out of exercising. I used to go cross country running. Not walking, RUNNING. I adored the whole thing, screaming lungs, corned beef legs from the cold, stinking trainers from the rivers I ran through. What happened? I still get a thrill remembering how it felt but that's as far as it goes. Reading back that last bit has me worried about myself even back then......look at what I enjoyed!! Actually TV and stodgy food is much easier to understand.
Life is bizarre isn't it?

The worst thursday yet.

" Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in me. I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you. Peace be unto you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid"
( John 14. 1. 18 and 27)

I should dread thursdays much more than I do, rather foolishly it seems that I skip on over to the doctors to see Jan thinking that I probably don't need to go anymore, those are the worst, when it catches me unawares.
Today, well, maybe I should have known, I have been in a funk for a week, not really knowing what is wrong, but something has been niggling its evil way through me the whole time. I couldn't put my finger on it, not that I tried too hard, just felt wretched and out of sorts. Until this morning when I breezed into Jan's cosy room , with it's comfortable chairs and reassuring lilac walls. Normal chit chat, recounting the week, sort of mentioning the grey and miserable feeling that has hovered. Then Dan. My boy. My first born and gentlest of sweet boys. The rest is mine and Jan's. Details of what started the following, will stay where they are, which isn't in me anymore.
I started to feel that hideous swelling, that massive medicine ball of horrendous pain that pushes on my heart and my lungs, it tries to burst it's way out anyhow, through my back, through my chest, out of my throat. I couldn' t let it out there, although she did ask me if I wanted to, just a pathetic sort of whimpering that came out. Hand over mouth and curled up against the physical pain, I managed only to say that I had to get home. I said I didn't want to go through this anymore or deal with how ripped apart it was all making me feel. I don't have a choice though, it is time, and it's coming out. It's very, very frightening.
It is a mere few steps from the annexe to my home but it felt like a lifetime before I made it. Sunshine around me, deepest darkness inside. I literally heaved and retched every step of the way and when I got home the front door was open to let the sunshine in. I kicked off shoes and somehow made it upstairs, my legs were so heavy and the weight in my chest was enormous, it was all I could do to crawl up those steps......as I got into my room, it started, complete and utter blackness, my chest ripped and out came a noise I have never heard and certainly never made in my entire life, it tore my throat, it tore my chest and between my shoulder blades felt like a white hot poker. Every muscle in my body convulsed, every ounce of me heaved and was in spasm as this filth was released. Whatever evil was trapped in me for the past 17 years made it's way out accompanied by the loudest shrieking and moaning imaginable. I tried to keep my head in a pillow but because I wasn't able to keep still as each spasm and howl forced its way out some of it was at full volume. Every time I thought it was over, it started again, over and over and over again. Where has that been hiding for so long? How have I lived and walked and breathed, how have I smiled or laughed, carried babies, eaten ( and I certainly HAVE done that!!) with that inside me? In making it's way out it rendered me totally blind for a while, absolute blackness and a pain in my head that is indescribable, it was an exorcism, it was pure and undiluted filth and misery. Not one part of my body escaped. How can a feeling, an emotion, be so physical. How can it take on a solid form that can do such harm to a body and mind? This is tangible, physical and solid.
Thankfully Eli was playing outside and H was watching him with the ever present ipod earphones in. There was nobody to hear and nobody to catch the poison as it left.
When it's over I swear that I stink. Noone says I do, but it feels like a stench is on my skin.
I felt lonely though, because it was so frightening, I have done all this on my own and I so want someone to help me now. I know though, that to be rid of it , truly kill it and be better, I need to do it alone.
I've been home 4 hours, I have slept for 3 and I am exhausted. My head hurts, my legs can barely carry me and I'm shaking, from head to toe. H has taken Eli to get the boys from school and then to the park. Dinner is cooking and I can just sit here and be still. Healing indeed.
I'm going again next week, of course, I think I may be ready, or more ready, for whatever may happen. It isn't over, but it's on it's way. I hope every second of this, from June 1989 until it's done, is being recorded by the angels, I hope nothing is being missed so that when that monster faces Christ himself, he will be held accountable for every single bit of it. Not until then will it really be over, but I am secure in my knowledge that the pain I have and am suffering is almost at an end....... his will be eternal. Justice indeed.

Every pedophile out there, every worthless child molester, every monster, man or woman, who allows this to happen , who makes it happen, who thinks his or her carnal pleasure and perverted desires are important, who touches and damages a child, children, families, be undeniably sure that your day will come. You will not be forgiven and you will never, EVER be able to squirm or lie or slither your way out of the punishment that will be so just, so fitting and so miserable, and remember, it will be forever. FOREVER. The evil you have forced on innocent people will come back to you 100 fold...be ready.
I know there is a God and it is stated throughout scriptures that the most beloved to Him are the little ones, children.
" Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my father on heaven." ( Matthew 18. 14)
Oh you stupid, stupid people who think you can harm even one child and get away with it. Every tear and every breath of fear will be yours to answer to. May I and every other righteous mother and father, every damaged and pain filled child be there when your punishment is served.

An accidental stroke of genius.

I just have to share this because it is SO brilliant that every mother of small people should know about it.
I bought a pedometer, a cheap one, that was actually too cheap....so I bought a better one. Isaac saw the not so good one, he wanted it. H had a 'free with walkers chips' one and Seth wanted it. MIRACULOUS!! They will do anything ANYTHING we ask. Getting dressed is amazing..." how many steps to grab your socks? Quick go and get your school shoes, how many steps will that be? How many steps if you go and fetch your book bag for school, how many steps to your classroom?" Seth took nearly 11.000 steps at school yesterday, Isaac? Who knows, he keeps pushing the reset button- but it has been FANTASTIC!! Seth didn't even whimper about going to school yesterday as he couldn't wait to see what number he would be on when we got there! Isaac is Mr fetch and carry, all we need to say is " how many steps if you run and get....." and he's OFF! His first words this morning were " how many steos I take downstairs?"
Buy one at the dollar store.....it's a dream. I hope they don't get bored too quickly. I am in heaven.
By the way, it is 3,441 steps to school and back.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch.

We arrived home yesterday around dinner time, we walked into a home barely recognisable. Spotless and quiet. Now, those of you parents of teenagers, having been left alone for 4 days, will understand that this will evoke feelings of trepidation. Why is it SO clean? why are these two so cheerful, so polite and accomodating? Cripes, something's amiss and no mistake. The full length split in the solid wood bathroom door was the beginning of the real truth, the rest is coming out, bit by bit. Lies first, oh such clever ( not) lies that only teenagers can make up and expect a parent to believe. Oh..funny thing, Jordan ran up the stairs and tripped, fell head first into the door...what a laugh...except the split was obviously from the inside of the door. Big mistake to lie to me my children.
Throughout the day it has become clear that there was a party...and trouble. The full story hasn't emerged but the bits that have sounded plausible aren't pretty.
I am way on the side of lenient with my big kids. I have been watching and seeing things I don't much like but have been allowing them rope enough to feel freedom and hoping (whilst closely watching) that maturity was close enough to step in and save the day. Unfortunately, they have hanged themselves with the rope and blown it. It all stops here and I think they won't like it too much.
Also.....my car is on the brink of hopelessness. The repairs are out of reach for a considerable time unless I can find the parts on ebay. £900 to fix it. PPPTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHH. I hope I can reduce that by finding the parts and getting a local garage to fit them rather than the toyota dealer. We'll see. It can get boring, the winging it thing, the robbing Peter to pay Paul. I am not going to worry, we will walk and keep walking, save and be glued to Ebay. I need an airflow meter and a throttle position switch.....such innocent sounding bits and pieces. My new project.

New subject.......it has been a joy to me to become aware of the sights that are to be seen when you walk, rather than drive....oh and catching the bus, going through back roads and seeing new sights, missed when busy getting from A to b the fastest way possible.
I saw a sight that begged to be photographed, grrrrrrr that my camera was at home.
A young couple, sitting on a wall, with their sweet baby in front of them, in his pushchair. Neither could be called obese, but neither were they slim, or toned. Wobbly and a bit chunky, both. Both wearing those fashionable yet impossible to understand why, low rise jeans and short shirts, both leaning forward to talk to their baby....as the bus passed behind them I was forced to stare at the sight before me, a matching pair of bum cracks, at least 6 inches of each. Oh dear, the things you see when you haven't got a gun!! I can't help but thinkof the risk they were taking, the wall was a relatively low one with a cycle path behind...I shall say no more.

I am off now to wait for teenagers, the new rules are being set down tonight and it will all be done with the calmest of voices...that seems to hit home harder.

Pictures first.....

I think you can see that it was beautiful. The whole weekend was as it should be, a mix of high emotion and restful moments. What mattered most was that it felt right for mum. She found it hard to do but as soon as she had done it, she felt better and as if this is what he wanted. We all felt that he has been around us until we left this place......as we left , he stayed to go on to wherever it is he is needed now. It was a sad feeling for us but now we feel we really should just do what we need to do now.
I know that we will see dad again, that is enormously comforting. Nothing stops the ' right now' being sad though. Nothing makes life easy as we work to learn how to do this without him .
I can't help but try and imagine how this must be for mum....but I can't. I am just so in awe of how strong she is. How dignified and gentle.
I love you so my mum. Please live to be 105, then you can slow down and we'll find a lovely home with a log fire and a jolly matron who will make you rooisbosh tea and feed you jelly sweets by the handful. You shall have toast and bovril in bed and watch Miss Marple all hours of the night. But not til you are 105, we need you 'til then to be just as you are. You're the mum, it's the law that you be here and be the same. I know you never break the law..... Oh and holidays? We like you taking us.....that's a good new thing, we'll keep that one. Thankyou.

Dear God, I hope there is a hell.

Not the hell fire and brimstone of catholic and other religious kind, but one of eternal skin crawling misery,where you are aware of greatness and beauty, but you can't be a part of that. Ever. I hope that hell means a heightened sense of right and wrong, a clarity of those things you have done that hurt others and whatever pain they suffered at your hands may it be inflicted on you, only worse. Much worse. Know and understand exactly what you have done, be genuinely sorry for having done it, and then feel that suffering, live that misery, cry that howling sorrow.
I have held onto and believed in that scripture that says " But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea" ( Matthew: 18: 6) When my boys were hurt I didn't, couldn't, spare a moment to hate the monster who did it. Reading that scripture gave me strength to carry on and heal the damage. I believe that in all things there will be justice and I hope that I am right when it comes to the man who harmed my sons. He escaped justice on this earth....I am sure that his day will come and that, for now, gives me some peace.
Thursday is therapy day. It is clear to me that this time, now, is the time for me to get well. Today was a session full of revelations to me. I seemed to spend the hour talking, talking...fast. As I was talking I heard myself saying " ooh..oooh... I hadn't thought of this..." and would then be able to explain something new that had come to the surface, something that until now I maybe wasn't ready, or able to deal with.
Jan asked me to explain what this pain has been like and if I could describe what it felt like as it comes out and leaves me. It is a physical thing, it is solid and black, tubular with barbs and it starts somewhere above my belly button and ends just below my throat. Pieces are breaking off and bit by bit I am coughing and screaming it out. I think that it has to break because if it were to try and come out whole, it would kill me.
When these creatures who hurt children, do what they do, they don't just physically hurt that child. They destroy whole families. They kill innocence and joy, they eat away at souls and cause festering wounds in minds and bodies. Damn them to my choice of hell.
I am slowly beginning to feel alive. This morning as I walked home from the school run, I actually felt life in my legs and felt the air going into my lungs. I haven't taken a proper breath for 17 years. I have held in so much that there hasn't been room to breath deeply. My whole existance has felt like being underwater, knowing that everything is happening but all of it has been sort of 'removed'. What a pitiful waste of 17 years of what should have been living. I grab onto the fact that I have had enough wits about me to make sure that no-one else has had a wasted time. My boys didn't lose anywhere near as much life as they could have and I was so careful to keep the real horror from anyone else that it didn't contaminate other lives. But, here's the huge deal. WHAT ABOUT ME? How sad that I have lost so much. Years I can't get back and feelings I can't feel. I am so excited that at last it IS time to do this. No more wasted years, no more missing the great things that are there to be had.
When I went in to my appointment today Jan said " Helen, I can SEE you are getting better, you are actually melting......you are throwing off that weight before my eyes"
THROWING IT OFF!!! I have to say that I feel so different, I feel as though I have already got rid of the weight that has been holding in this misery. When I see in a shop window that actually I don't look too different yet, I am enormously suprised. I shouldn't look like this anymore because I don't need it. I don't want anything shut away or hidden anymore, I want it gone and I want this fat off so that I can be the person that has been cowering inside for 17 years.
Then I went to the park and saw a friend who I haven't seen for a couple of weeks, she said my face was different.....I can't wait til everything is as different on the outside as it is on the inside.
I bought a book today, its a great book, written by Louise Hay, it's called 'Heal your Body'- in it it you can read how our attitude to life can cause our ailments. I looked up the things that have bothered me for years, look at this, remember how I talk about my hernia? The size of a babies head right in the middle of my stomach. ( Hernia- Ruptered relationships, Strain, Burdens, incorrect creative expression)
My throat that hurts and gets blistered. ( throat- the inability to speak up for one's self, swallowed anger. Stifled creativity. Refusal to change. A strong belief that you cannot speak up for yourself and ask for your needs.)
Itching skin, years and years of undiagnosed hives and welts. ( itching- desires that go against the grain. Unsatisfied. Remorse. Itching to get away or get out).
Overweight. ( over sensitivity.Often represents fear and a need for protection. May be a cover for a hidden anger and a resistance to forgive. Running away from feelings. Insecurity. Self rejection)
Hemorrhoids. (Anger at the past. Afraid to let go. Feeling burdened)
Acne ( Not accepting of self, disliking one's self.)
Amazing. I am becoming a new me. I shall soon be thin and be able to sing again ( is it weird that my once rather pleasant singing voice has been missing for years? I can't sing anymore, just can't get the sound out....I hope that comes back!!) my hernia shall shrink and disappear. My skin will be clear and non itchy. No more pain in the arse. I shall be like a butterfly, albeit an elderly one, but I am so excited. I wish I could shake, like a dog fresh out of the water, and throw off this weight. Patience has never been a virtue of mine and I think after carrying it around for so many years I have done my time. I want it off me and gone. I have lost the equivilent of Seth so far. A mini person. I need to lose the combined weight of Isaac and Eli and I will be me. Just me. I can hardly wait!!
Tomorrow we are going away, a mini break with mum, Leah, Julie and Berian. We'll scatter dad's ashes and release some balloons. We'll be back on monday. I shall of course take my laptop but, unsure if I will go anywhere with connection, may not post until I get home. Miss me. I like being missed and positively preen at mentions of praise and slendidness. We are going to Tintagel on one of our days out.....I love it here, I am so excited to show H some more of this beautiful country!! Look at the pictures and imagine being there too.

So much to say......

Ahem, I sit here, with my laptop. MY laptop, on my lap.....bought through a clever man who is married to someone at church who reads my blog...yes, I actually know someone in person who isn't family, who reads my blog, marvellous. Anyway, Andy, who is married to Sara, who reads my blog and who has 3 of the most divine babies, deals on ebay, buying and selling computers and so he sold me a pretty nifty laptop for a great price, I took H with me because I am dim in all things technical and would have been happy to look at the thing and buy it if it looked nice, I know nothing about gigabites or rams ( althoughI sort of feel that gigabite may actually be spelled with a y not an i) and H knows these things, when I saw him begin to drool and sound wistful at the numbers and almost weep at the very telling that my laptop has more of everything than the big house computer, I felt pretty sure that I was onto a good thing. He was very good and brave in an incredibly masculine way and although it felt as though I was breaking his fingers when I took it from him (after he had done all that boring stuff to set it up for me) he has scarcely mentioned what he could do with all this memory and ram and gigawhatsits more than a time or 17.
I took my laptop to my writing class because I wanted to look the part , it looked very impressive in it's carry case while I scribbled notes with my biro on scraps of paper.
I took it to make a point as much as anything, you know, rather like a dog cocks it's leg to mark it's territory, I showed the world that this little box is mine. Selfish in the extreme and marvellous. Mine, mine , mine. It's pretty hard work at the moment, so different to the house computer, no mouse, now that takes some getting used to, sensual with all that stroking and coaxing the arrow thingy ( I am so technical aren't I? I scare myself sometimes) The delete button is in a whole new place, why do they do that? Why aren't things ever simple?
I think I will love it soon enough though, if it's too new for me I have no worries about money wasted, there are at least 3 people in this house that are drooling and longing for the novelty to be too much for me.
It's very pleasant to sit wherever I fancy and be online, I am sitting with feet up on comfy stool as I type, luxury indeed.
Thankyou Andy for helping me get my new toy... Jordan wants one now, H wants one.......we might be regulars! Of course that would mean we never talk to each other ever again.... unless by e.mail or I.M of course!!

This morning I went to the funeral home and collected my dad's ashes. I have driven past for a week or two, knowing he was there and imagining that he was calling me to remind me that he was there and please could we get him and take him somewhere a bit more homely before we scatter him. Fanciful I know, but in these things we are allowed to be imaginative and even ridiculous because it makes us feel better, or worse and even feeling worse is gloriously self indulgent and if you can't be that at a time like this then PPPPPTTTTTTHHHHHHHH.
Everything to do with dad's goodbye is for my mum to decide, we can have our opinions and desires but they are to be kept to ourselves until she says what she needs and then we can fall at her feet and say "thank goodness" because she is always right and we all love what she wants.
She has been sadder these past few days, since her darned old car just withered and died in the middle of the road as she reversed out of her drive and since she fell in her beautiful but steep and treacherous back garden that she loves.
Cars have the power to make women tremble when they go wrong, mine is still very sick but I am ( hoorah again Ebay) in the process of having her made well and able to trundle us through another year. Mum's is a part of her, it is as old as mine but has been to many more places and has been loved and cared for by dad and his garage of choice. Never before has mum had to think about what noises mean or why it has stopped dead in the middle of the road. Having such a thing happen and not having dad to tell her what the problem was and it's OK because it's fixed now is not alright. It makes me want to turn up at her house with a shiny new car that will have unheard of before things, like warranties and phone numbers to call if it so much as coughs.
Falling down in your garden when you have made your poor joints scream with pain for days because it keeps you busy and not thinking of how sad it is that dad isn't there to cut the grass and do bloke like stuff and take the cuttings to the tip so you ask your kids which is horrible because you never ask your kids to do anything, even though your whole life has been spent doing things for them, is never alright. It makes your aching legs wobble and your heart sad and even sitting on the lovely bench dad put there and oiling it and planting lovely roses next to it won't stop the tears coming. Good thing too. Good thing that you have a son in law that is a landscape gardener that comes and looks and tells you what he IS going to do to make the garden a bit safer to be in.
So, quite a bit of sadness about dad this past week or two, knowing we are going to scatter his ashes has made us all feel that raw pain again too, not that it's gone away yet of course, but it's bringing a new wave along. Talking to mum about her being sad and me being sad and mentioning that actually I think dad wants out of the pleasant funeral home and can he come home please just for a week? She said of course and would I collect him. Yikes. This morning, after my invigorating and healthy walk to school and back, I went into the funeral home, trying not to look like I was sweating ( even though I was but it was drizzling too, so hopefully they thought it was the rain).
I did much talking to myself in order to be calm and not throw myself on the rather tasteful blue sofa in the waiting room and wail. I took deep breaths and told myself to be British and find that stiff upper lip. And there he was. In a deep wine coloured plastic urn, not unlike a candy jar. Hmmmmm. I signed forms and gave phone numbers and said what relation I was to the deceased and I left. Only after dad had been put into a very grand gift bag. Dark green and uncannily like something you would be given if you had bought a hideously expensive bottle of wine from Harrod's .
I walked home with tears and quivering arms, swinging dad in his Harrods gift bag, not entirely sure if I should laugh or cry. He was heavier than I imagined he would be ( though nowhere near as heavy as he was) and it just seemed so ridiculous that this was all that was left of him. So ridiculous that actually, I think I don't believe it, and that makes it all not at all sad. I can see now ( though absolutely couldn't understand it a bit before) why people find themselves with their dearly departed sitting on their mantlepiece forever. It's strangley comforting and not a bit morbid. Dad is in his gift bag on top of my TV cupboard, out of reach of little boys hands ( can you imagine if they got to him?? How awful if we had to test the sucking power of the Kirby vacuum on that one!!) I am almost tempted to take him out of the gift bag and have him sit on display, in his fancy shaped jar because darn it, if it isn't exactly the same colour as my sofas.
He doesn't belong to me though and I'm sure his jar will blend beautifully in his own front room with it's peach colours. He will be going home in the morning when I take the boys to school. Seeing his remains has comforted me in a way I wouldn't have believed and I hope it does the same for mum. It just puts it all into place and helps me see, and believe, that his body is gone. His spirit will always be near and will be watching out for us, his body is for now, as they say in the scriptures, returned to the dust from whence it came. Things are as they should be in this great plan we all live.
I am so aware of how small we are, but how great we can be. I think my dad is at his greatest right now and while we stay here, finishing the plan that was set for us, he will be looking out for us and yelling for us to get it right, work hard, be good, do what is right and be happy. Pretty much what he and mum have taught us all our lives. Keep yelling dad and watch over mum in that old jallopy. We'll watch for her too, she's doing alright and she's as amazing as ever.
Have you been telling her off for working on that garden all hours and only eating toast? I suspect she has heard you and blown a few raspberries.....she knows when she has had enough, just have a word with the man upstairs and make sure those bloody flowers bloom like never before for her will you?
Oh and some whistling good news for me is HERE...whoopppdedoo for me!!