Words?

Watch this whole thing, don't give up before you see it all.

Sort of makes one feel ashamed doesn't it? How often do we pity these people who aren't quite like us? I rather like the idea that inside they are watching us and pitying US for not being like them!

Teenagers are SO the new toddler, except more stupid.

When you have toddlers, you take it for granted that on matters of great importance, you will say something, say it again, ask if they heard you, see if they understand, say it again, show them, say it again........you get it. It doesn't often seem annoying even that you have to say the same thing over and over because aww, little people, small brains, learning and all that. It is a joy to watch them grow and learn and really 'get' things. It is immensely satsifying to see what amazing things these young people are capable of. Year after year they astound you, what clever people you have born and raised.
Then, something happens, the bodies keep growing, changing, delighting you ( or with daughters scaring you) but the brains? What happens? Where does all the knowledge you saw go? What the ??????
It is with great sadness that I have to inform you that despite all that work, when these people hit 14ish, they go backwards. Once again we are returned to the days of saying it OVER AND OVER again, this time though, they don't appreciate it . They aren't thrilled that you give them all this time and energy and wisdom.
They grunt a lot and eat a lot. They tell you how grown up they are and how smart they are and how much they know, and they show you how stupid they have become and how little they understand.
Every so often, much as it pains me, I am reminded that Daniel, Jordan and Sophie weren't products of an active imagination and wishing very hard. They are their father's children, damn and blast it all.
The first one hasn't quite left the stage of having to be told 3 million times to put his shoes on and don't sleep with a woman that isn't your wife, when you have a wife. I'm not sure he will ever get past that stage, he is 45, it's not looking good.
I quite like seeing his sense of humour coming out in my children, he is funny, I'll give him that. He works hard, very good. Crap with the money he earns and it keeps going downhill from there. So, it is usually not a fluffy moment when I see his traits showing in my children, that I adore.
Jordan, of all the kids , is the most like his dad. Dan sounds like him, exactly, which means I am always over chummy with the first one, on the phone until I realise it is him, and very short and impatient with Dan because I think it's his dad.
Sophie, bless her heart has her dad's brains. Amazing at the things she wants to do , no stopping her but will never win hearts and influence people with IQ or general knowledge ( does that read very harsh? Sophie, if I am dead and you are reading this I love you. Don't cry. I loved your dad even though he couldn't spell and did Irish dancing at his grandad's funeral, it's OK.)
Jordan, he has his fathers abilty to not hear or understand anything that isn't quite to his liking. He will smile and crack a joke, say all the right things and then do what he bloody well pleases. I have hit the very first occasion whereby that isn't going to cut it. I am going to win this one..it is going to get bloody. Ouch.
So, we had the discussions, we got the nodding and the 'absolutely, don't worry, it won't happen again' again. He said he got it. Mel can't / won't sleep in his room. That was last night. This morning. Guess. Go on, guess where she was? Did you guess yet? It's unbelievable isn't it?
It wasn't even worth shouting, was it. What's the point, I know it feels as though shouting might make them hear better. It doesn't. Whisper, with a bit of hiss. Works great.
" I think, Jordan, that it is time you asked Andy if you can move into the pub"
"NO! Absolutely not, nuh uh, no"
"Well, a flat it is then"
"I am not discussing this now I will talk when I get home from work"
" Ok, make sure you come home alone then"
"WHAT???? WHY?"
"because, I absolutely do not want to see Mel in my house"
"WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU SAY? HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?"
followed by a whole lot of yelling in his room and hitting of walls and more yelling. After 10 minutes I went into his room and said

"why, can you tell me, are YOU angry? Are you this angry because I am NOT going to allow you to do what you want in MY house?"
He stormed out. left.
Mel then said
"can I say something? I really respect everything you say"
"NO! you don't! because LOOK WHERE YOU ARE!" ( still in his bed)
" I didn't know until last night that you had said I couldn't sleep in here".
Here's where we thump our head and learn that although I have told Jordan until I am blue in the face....he hadn't told her, he was too embarrassed to tell her. Didn't know how to say those simple words. "my mum said no"
He can sleep with her, treat me like an idiot but not open his damn mouth and say " Actually you'd better not sleep here, mum will go mad"
"So, he didn't tell you"
"No, I didn't know until Sophie told me last night.
"So Sophie told you last night?"
"yes"
" Oh, I see, yet...... DUH!! Look where you are, it's today, after last night, when you DID know.
I have told him and I am telling you that this is MY house, I am more lenient than any other parent of teens I know, I allow all kinds of things many parents won't BUT you. can. not. sleep. in. his. room. ( here's where she agrees, because hey, she isn't even allowed friends in the HOUSE forget her bed)
"Jordan has had my time, Sophie has had my time...now it is the little boys turn to have things the way I want them to be for them.
If any of you don't like the rules in THIS house, leave, I will not say this again. I suggest you find Jordan and tell him that you now understand what I say, I am through telling him, see if you can make him understand how things are. I don't want drunk people in my house, I don't want unmarried people sleeping together in my house. I don't care who likes it or whether any of you agree with it. That's how it is, like it....or leave, could it be simpler than that?"
I left then because my brain hurt and my heart was a bit achey too. I don't want my kids sad, could give a stuff if they are mad.

Teenagers are worse than toddlers, you have to not only repeat it but then ask them to explain what you mean, then check that everyone involved knows and understands then really, REALLY check that not only did they hear, that they know, and understand, but believe that you actually MEAN it.
Then check again.

Then hit them, as hard as it takes to make your frustration feel less. Frustration will be replaced by humiliation because hitting a 6' 5" male doesn't make them even flinch, they roll their eyes and ask if you are done yet, ignore the feeling of stupidity, the overwhelming release of tension is worth it. Even do it again to get your money's worth.
My hair is greyer today, all badges of honour.
Thank heaven for Chocolate trifle. Yes, chocolate trifle, £1.48 from Asda. Chocolate sponge, chocolate custard, chocolate mousse with cream and chocolate swirls. Thankyou Asda.

The 2nd post. I think your skin will crawl too.

This post won't be funny, won't be entertaining and might strike you as not me. It is me, this is what is inside me all the time, usually smothered and forgotten because life has become so much better and is predominantly joyful.
Sometimes, things happen that make the world stop in it's tracks and pull us up with a start, this morning that happened to me.

I am exceptionally tolerant with my teenagers. I am more tolerant that my sisters and seemingly more tolerant that my childrens' friends' parents. Not anymore.
I have always wanted my kids to feel that this is their home. I wanted them to want their friends here and feel happy with being here. I have had teenagers sleeping here on floors, sofas, spare beds, Jordan's bed, Sophie's bed. They have been here for one night, three nights, 7 weeks........we have fed them, listened to them, yelled at them, laughed with them.
More and more we have seen those flexible boundaries pushed and pushed. Children need to know where they stand and I have forgotten that with these big kids. Not anymore.
It seems to me that they have totally forgotten who runs the show. I really think they believe that this is THEIR home. That's different to their home.
Shall I bore you with details? Here goes.

I told you about Mel, Jordan's girlfriend. I told you the rules I set, I have told Jordan the rules, told Mel the rules, over and over.
Last night...or this morning at 12.45am I went to get a drink before going to bed and Jordan and Mel came in, I spoke to them and said to Jordan,
" Do NOT blow this, don't do anything to make me sorry I said Mel could stay. This is your room, Mel sleeps in the spare room. If at any time H or I see this door locked and Mel in it with you, she goes. You might well go with her. I raised you 3 big kids the way I wanted to, I chose what happened in our home, I chose what you saw and what you didn't. These little boys deserve the same . I don't like what you are doing with Mel, I can't stop it, but whatever you think, whether you agree or not, THIS IS MY HOME , you will do as I say or you will answer to me. Do you understand?"
He said he did.
I went to go to bed and remembered something else...walked back to his room and when I opened the door I recoiled and made a horrified noise because in his room was a man that made my skin crawl. I hated him on sight, no reason, just did.
They laughed, because they thought I jumped and 'ughed' because I hadn't known he was in the room. I said what I had to say, went to bed.
At 6.45, I woke for a pee, walked out of my room and coming out of my little boys room, half dressed, was the skin crawl man.

Dear God.

Me, talking quietly " did you want the toilet?"
Him " no, that's free"
"then what do you want?"
"I was looking for where I was"
"Well, were you were had better be downstairs, what are you doing here?"
He went downstairs, I followed, he went into the spare room.
I went into the front room where H was with Eli and Isaac, I began to speak to H and tell him what happened when I stopped, because I wanted to puke or punch someone.
I flew through the kitchen, door to Jordan's room locked. I think the whole street may have been woken by the way I hammered on that door.
Jordan opened the door and asked what was up....
"THAT!" I yelled pointing at Mel. In. His. Bed.
"Either you are incredibly stupid, or you think I am. Which is it?"
"well, she slept here because Neil slept in the spare room"
"And Neil is the man I just saw coming half dressed out OF MY CHILDRENS ROOM IS IT?"
He was stunned but that might have been because he woken up after so little sleep.
"Sophie said he could stay, not me"
" I don't care who said he could stay, he was in MY CHILDRENS' BEDROOM AND I DON'T KNOW WHO THE HELL HE IS!"

I made Sophie get out of bed and tell Neil-whoever-the-hell to get out of my house. Now.
Sophie and Jordan are indignant, that's my fault, I have allowed them to feel that this is THEIR house, it isn't, it is their home. For now.
What happened today could have been the very worst nightmare for any parent. I have read about people waking up to find their children dead because some creep chose to do evil to them in their own beds. This man that was allowed by my children to sleep IN MY HOME was someone they 'sort of' know. A good laugh, comes into work, known him ages, Oh you know Neil, ah, whatshisname, it doesn't matter, he's OK.
I have spent the day heaving. Wondering why, or how, when faced with him coming out of that bedroom ( and actually he was just lost, still too drunk to know where he was ) why did I not punch him, with every ounce of strength in my overweight body, right in his weasley face? Why did I speak to him so politely? Why did I retain such calm and poise?
I have no doubts at all that this was nothing more than idiocy on his part, he went back to bed, if he had been up to no good he would have scarpered.
I am more angry that these damned selfish individuals that I gave birth to are so stupid that they think having any scum they meet up with in MY HOME is alright. It is NOT alright. IT IS NOT ALRIGHT.
I am done. H who pretty much goes along with what I decide for these big kids, has spoken. HE said he has reached saturation point, he has said enough. Is enough.
No more stupid squealing girls, no more loud and idiot boys. NOBODY THAT HAS BEEN DRINKING. Stay the hell out of my house.
How do we know who these people are, this was not a 17 year old. I am sick with thinking what could have happened.
Here we have 3 little boys who, with every right in the world, don't even have to give a thought to the fact that they are safe. It is a given that they have 2 parents who will do everything in their power to protect them. I am obsessed, you all know I am obsessed, with keeping these little boys untouched by evil. There will be NO monsters in their lives, not if I can help it.
I see that look every day in their faces, that was missing in their brothers' eyes. That clear, unblemished trust, innocence, if you have never seen a child without that look, you may well not notice it is even there, but I do and I cherish it. Be damned if anything will snatch it from these children.
When I took Elijah dancing it was even more sweet to me because I had been reminded of how blessed it is to see that light in his eyes every day of his life. Every time he looked over to see if I was watching and he grinned, I saw that joy and relished it even more. When Jordan was his gae he didn't smile much. He didn't laugh, he was never naughty. He was very broken.
I think that may be why I have allowed him to overstep the mark so much here now. Everyone told me he would never be the way he is, I was told how he would always be partially broken, that he would have issues with relationships, be afraid of sex.
I don't want him to be sad. Well, mad is different from sad. He is going to be mad when I tell him Mel can't stay. Tough. He won't be sad.
Sophie will, is, mad that we dare tell her what she can and can't do in 'her' house. I told her that when she pays the rent she can have more of a say but the rent here is more than she handle, perhaps she should start looking for a bedsit and then she can fill it with every kind of low life she chooses.
We spoke to Sophie at great length, til she was sick of hearing it. She thinks we are over reacting. Oh well.
I have told Jordan to come right home after work at 9pm, he asked if he was in trouble....d'ya think?
I wonder if they have any friends whose parents will take pity in them and let them stay for a week or seven.

Now we've got that our of the way, read the post below, it's happy and uplifting and just makes me grin from ear to ear . Dance baby, Dance.

Well, Zippedy doo dah indeed.

I am going to post two entries today because I have both ends of the emotional scale to blog about, a happy, nay ecstatic post, full of goosepimply marvellousness. That's this one and then later, when I am alone and can let it all out, there will be a post of skin crawling, seething, festering rage. I can't blog about the 2 things at once because it would be impossible. Both happened today and matter to me.
My boy had his class. It was a taster to see if a) he liked it and b) the teacher liked him.
We arrived a little early and Eli watched through the glass door, so exciting to see the ballet class in action!
He met his teacher, who is called Mrs teacher ( not really but my point is, she is 'Mrs' not chummily using her first name, score one for me, I like some good old fashioned manners.) she is incredibly firm and commands attention, very good.
First 20 minutes was tap dancing, such joy. This little squirt who was head and shoulder smaller than all but one other child, watched and toe tapped and heel toe, heel toed like a pro, he skipped and gallopped and stamped and tippy toed, he side stepped and held hands and looked at himself in the room length mirrors.











My heart was in my throat, in that lump swallowing way that has you gulping and biting the inside of your mouth to stop tears of absolute joy. I almost managed to hold it together until, to the tune of Zippedy doo dah, they skipped in a line towards me.



My oh my! WHAT a wonderful day.

2nd half was modern dance and he did exercises,



banged a tambourine, skipped some more, oh sweet heaven, there was hand clapping and foot stamping and more blissful moments that we ever thought possible for our £5.

Do you want to see a move clip of him, I know you do.....



in fact, why not two........



At the end of the class, the teacher came to me and caught hold of my hand, she said " this is ABSOLUTELY the class for Elijah, he is divine, he was fantastic, please bring him back next week"

It was just the happiest thing for me to do today and I needed to have that.
What I need though, is so unimportant compared to what ths little boy gained today. While having such fun he was also learning to look and listen, to be obedient and follow instruction.
Zippedy doo dah. Indeed.

And all that Jazz. Oh...and.....

I had an attack of the BOREDOMS today, smacked me in the face with a vengeance, if I was 6, maybe I would have been flinging myself about and sighing a lot, slithering off the sofa and pleading for some fun.
I need something that makes my heart race, something that gives me that kind of zippedy doo dah feeling . It must be time.
I look at Elijah and he has it, the feeling I long for. He wakes up in the morning and the very first thing he does is to reach his hands above his head, clap them together, do a super dooper twirl and claps again. THAT'S what I want to feel like in the morning. He dances, all day. He stops in the middle of eating and does a twirl. He breaks into song at the drop of a hat. He is joy personified.
I took him to a dance academy and signed him up for modern
and Jazz classes. Tomorrow he will go for a taster, while we were there he climbed up on a little pedestal thing and did his hand clapping, twirling foot tapping routine, followed by a FAME like leap onto the floor. The boy just loves to dance!
They also do stage struck classes, dance, drama, singing and the whole shabang. He has to be 4 though. The witness to his pedestal twirl did say that we should call and see if they will take him early but he's 4 in july, we can do some dancing til then.
He watched the DVD they gave us and decided that the yellow tutu was for him. He even likes sunny colours.
I am a little afraid that given my state of mind and my yearning for excitement I am at risk of being a truly hideous pushy mum. Can you picture it? Waking him up at 5am to practise, dragging him to every audition for even the smallest parts in pantomimes and spring plays.
Already it's there, did I all but make my tongue bleed at the dance academy, stopping myself say " Show the lady ! Dance baby DANCE!" Give me fame and glory. There IS a monster mummy inside us all, heaven help me.
I think H finds it hard not to push Seth's brain, although I don't think it is possible to push that, it is so fast it's doing it's own thing anyway, what I mean is, I hear him saying things like
" Hey Seth, howabout we work on your eco plan in the morning?"
He has one you know, it's cool, he's 6......Dance baby dance.

Isaac, perhaps is the smartest of all, he has the thing that stops us pushing him anywhere, we let him just find his place and excel all on his own....he sat beside me this afternoon and read a whole email as I typed it. Our reaction to that kind of behaviour from him is to very quietly cheer, pretend we are astounded and say something like " you are 5 years old, who said you could read? Stop reading. Immediately!" Then shut up so he doesn't get overwhelmed with attention and avoid doing that again thankyou.
He is the easiest and most difficult of these boys. He is heaven to me in that he doesn't need endless discussions on things, say it, make sure he heard it, it's done. Show him once, leave him alone, he does it.
Just try to get him to wear a coat in winter or shorts in summer and there you have your battle.
So I'm not bored anymore. It was fleeting. I'm watching American Idol, I think Eli could be a winner, mothers should encourage their children ( who? What? When did I say mothers should be shot when the tell their kids they are sure to win???) Dance baby, dance.

11pm. Update, although not an update because it has nothing to do with anything I wrote earlier....anyway, Is there a lesson I am being too slow to grasp or what? Jordan and the quite beautiful Mel came in earlier and oh dear, Mel's mum has thrown her out, lock stock and black bin liners. Why does this happen? Why do other parents find this so easy to do yet I seem to hang on to mine despite crusty pasta bake dishes and phone bills with way too many mobile numbers on them?
So this time, she has been evicted because her room is untidy. I say this time, I don't mean she has been thrown out before but the last teenage homeless person we put up had some similar sob story that became clearer and clearer as time went by.
This time. this evictee, there is the added 'bonus' of Jordan being abit in heart with her. What to do? what to DO?
They all know I'm hardly going to say " shame, s'cuse me American Idol is on, hope she finds a comfy bench"
I mind being put in a position where I have to make a decision right there and then, so I didn 't. I did say that tonight she can put her things in Jordans room and her body in the spare room, quite firmly stated that should Jordan's room be locked with both of them in it she would be taking her bags with her elsewhere. I was also pretty firm about not tolerating anything remotely close to this........



Her stuff is staying in Jordan's room because I can't stand the thought of the boys getting into it. She has a place to go to soon (I'm told) and until then I am going to make Jordan pay for her to get the bus to college and what not. Here we go again.

Flat batteries, fisticuffs and fries.

So, the car is mended. It was simply an old and weary battery. Empty cells and just too worn out to even cough that big old car into action.
So simple, it would seem wouldn't it? This is me though, the blog gods know that I thrive on drama and they shine down on me.
I pay £18.80 a month to the R.A.C. Seems a bit steep but I have the queen of services, home call outs, roadside assistance, car towed at no cost, taken from anywhere in the country to any garage of my choice and a few other things thrown in, oh any car I am in, not just mine. A got a free pen and note book too.
Peace of mind is the very best gift that comes with this membership. I am such a girl when it comes to cars, I only just learned how to open the bonnet on this car, I have absolutely no idea what I meant to do once it IS open.
Breaking down brings me out in a cold sweat and panic attacks, I need my breakdown recovery, it makes me feel safe and looked after.
Anyhoo, checking my bank statements the other day I saw that the payment had come out and very briefly I wondered if I was happy paying that.....today I know I am. Fixed car and entertainment thrown in.
I called the man from the RAC first thing this morning and explained that the car had coughed and died, blah blah.
"A man will be with you within 2 hours madam" And 20 minutes later, there he was. Hmming and hahing, checking and such like, battery is dead madam, empty cell and ........you get the drift. So, he got it started and assured me that should I drive to the local auto parts store, it would start again so I could bring new battery home and have H fit it.
Took my little one with me, bless him, and off we went, at 9am.
Stopped at store, turned off car, just for hell of it turned key just to make SURE it was going to start. Dead. As a doornail.
Bought battery. £68 minus a few pennies, acceptable-ish.
" I wonder, is there anyone who could fit that for me because, guess what, RAC man was wrong, car is dead, have small child, it is so cold, am personally completely useless etc. "
" Nope" ( sucking in of breath between teeth)
"hmmm, perhaps you can jump start it? "
" Nope, gotta brand new pack of leads but can't open it for you"
"Oh, right, shall have to call RAC back out, how dreary. Never mind"
Tut, sigh, grab battery, "s'pose I can do it, we're not a damn garage though"
Such finesse, customer care and chivalry. Not.
I am now faced with that hideous situation where I am stuck in a car that doesn't work with a grumpy git resentfully 'fixing it'. Lovely. So, polite chat it is then.
While he crashed about, he gave me a monologue of how, if anything goes wrong, I'll blame him....
'I won't, thankyou for doing this.'
'they all say that and then they DO blame me, we're not even a garage'
Whilst that last comment gave me a slight feeling of panic ( what did he mean they all say that and then DO blame him?) Is he as good as me at fixing things car like and blokeish. ( and yes that probably IS a sexist remark, get over it.) I felt I should sort of make him understand that I wouldn't thump him and that I DID know the nature of his work by telling him my brother works for this very company in another town.
Ah, light in the gloom....we chatted about the company and I told him who my brother was, he knows him and then said
"so, how's your dad?"
" Oh, he died"
Then came a wierd sort of thrill that comes with being able to make somebody squirm. Not the nicest thing to admit to enjoying but, well.......it is sort of fun. Turns out that dad often popped in and sent messages to Dave ( because it would have cost 10p to call David and he could get to the store for oooh about £1's worth of petrol, ) he always bought his car parts from this store because if he called Dave first, he would get the employees discount.
So after a fleeting sadistic smirk at the look on my knight in grumbling armour's face I felt sorry for him because he was genuinely sad to hear about dad.
Whenever I have to say the words out loud, that my dad isn't here anymore, I experience the same feeling of disbelief. It still makes my whole heart and soul lurch. I still miss him every bit as much. It still hurts.
So, the battery was fitted...HOORAY. Dead. Completely.
Long story short. I didn't blame him. The RAC man though, on his return. Did. In fact there was jolly near fisticuffs,
' what d'ya do? You blew the whole damn fuse, its' dead'
'well, couldn't leave her sitting there after you sent her ....why didn't you follow her here to make sure the car started? What's she paying that monthly fee for? You're meant to fix it or take it to a garage, we aren't a garage'
' you blew it, you knocked it and blew it and .....'
So, he towed us to a more selubrious setting ( Mac D's) and Eli and I had lunch ( yes LUNCH people, having left at 9am!!!) and hot chocolate and warmed our frozen souls. We then wondered around Sainsburys and did our shopping, while mr RAC man drove around to find a new fuse, (that naturally was difficult to locate) and just in time the car was done, new battery, new fuse ( not charged for) and off home in time to get the boy to nursery.
That old car positively THRUSTS into action, almost makes me jump, so eager is it to start.
I was so pleased with it, being so old and yet so gloriously ready to keep working with nothing more than a new battery and fuse, that I took it through the car wash. Clean inside AND out, heavens to betsy.
I am rather cheery tonight, good day and really good drama on TV. Easily pleased, the best way to be I always say.

I am a witch. Darn it.

You know when I wrote this....

at the moment I like my old car, it is behaving and working, even though it does cough a bit first thing in the cold and all. I even cleaned it, which makes me like it more. It is due for new brakes and a tire or two. (Ack, look, I wrote tire instead of tyre which is how we spell it in England, what is happening to me, I shall be writing check instead of cheque anyday now. ) So, dear old car is being good and is cleanish and I rather like it. Wait and see if I just jinxed the old clatterbucket into dying on me now.

On sunday...SUNDAY!! You think the Lord would be looking down on me blessing me for seeing the good I have in my life and thinking how I deserve such happiness and goodness, because look how unmaterialistic I have become.
Well, yeah, the damn thing died. I just tried to start it so I coud go to Asda and buy toilet paper and hot chocolate, it sort of coughed, the once.. and then locked the doors and died. I liked the way it locked me in, as if to rub in the fact that "ha ha, you're going nowhere lady" I let it rest for a bit and tried again, it laughed briefly and then nothing. If it wasn't so tragic it would be funny. It's so cold and the idea of walking to school THREE times is just awful. H does the taking in the morning and then I take Eli and collect them. I had to eat half a packet of crunch cream biscuits to make myself feel better.
Today has been a rotten kind of day apart from Dan getting here at the crack of dawn.
He plays with the littlies, he isn't bored with them or cross because they keep getting into his stuff, he is always so thrilled to see them, and they him......happy moments when he is here. He talks so LOUD though, I swear he makes my ear drums rattle. He has a new job, clever man. He will start as deputy manager of a beautiful hotel in Bath. Built in 1700 and something, splendid indeed. I would post a link but you know, mad people and all that. He's a grown man I know, but always best to err on the side of caution isn't it?
He was meant to come for 2 weeks at the beginning of the year, when he lost hisjob he said he would be down as soon as he found a new job, he had been here a little while when his phone rang, it was Shawn, asking where he was and when he would be back because he wanted to see him. He only left this morning, shut up.
Dan is very patient and just said that he was with his family and would be back tomorrow.
The mother in law in me came out. I sat folding laundry muttering under my breath and calling him names. I absolutely make myself accept that if he makes Dan happy then nothing else is my business... but honestly, I see where some mothers are coming from when they just can't shut their mouths.
Look matey, my son might well love your safari jacket, jangly jewellery wearing, manicured self but you'd better look sharp if you want my affections. Little pip squeak.
I liked seeing my 3 big people go out together for dinner , meant I didn't have to feed them, also it was just nice to see them being friends.
They are all in Jordan's room watching a DVD now, lovely.
Maybe its not so bad enough after all. If the car is still dead tomorrow I will weep.

The trouble with teens....

Is that they show you stuff you SO don't want to find funny.....but do.





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10 things....

IS there ANYTHING people don't know about me? I suspect not but here goes.

1.Everyone that knows me knows that I want a new car. You all know it, I am a bore about it. Someone should just give me one to shut me up. I like Toyotas actually and also Kia, however, at the moment I like my old car, it is behaving and working, even though it does cough a bit first thing in the cold and all. I even cleaned it, which makes me like it more. It is due for new brakes and a tire or two. (Ack, look, I wrote tire instead of tyre which is how we spell it in England, what is happening to me, I shall be writing check instead of cheque anyday now. ) So, dear old car is being good and is cleanish and I rather like it. Wait and see if I just jinxed the old clatterbucket into dying on me now.

2. I am excited about Sophie's attitude to college, amazing. She is getting up at 5.30am to get there, doing homework, enthusiastic. YIPPPEEEEE!

3. My favorite perfume is, Romance by Ralph Lauren.

4. I love my new outlook on life, the budget is unbelievable, each week we are sticking to the 'pots' there is always a small amount left to put into the treats pot. This week we bought some new books and a takeaway from the treats cash and there is still some left ! I haven't touched my own 'allowance' for 2 weeks.
Imagine, rent week, we have ALL the rent, none of this week's grocery budget has been touched, H and I have at least 2 weeks of our personal allowance left.
I don't have to even think about the rent, I want to tell you that all the big bills were paid at the beginning of the month, before they were due, all the direct debits came out without me having to think about them, I have managed to syphon off a little bit of money into a savings account.( yes, a savings account...blimey O'riley who'd have thunk it??) I do believe we have cracked the spending trend in this house and we are all incredibly happy about it.

5. My favorite pastime has got to be blogging, writing and reading. Always open to new reads...SEND ME LINKS, I love 'em.
Here are 2 I found that made me honestly and truly laugh til I burped.

YOU HAD ME AT IDIOT

FUGETABOUTIT!!

If a blog makes me laugh or cry, I love it.

6. I am most comfortable in my house, with H. I have never known anyone that makes me feel the way he does. Sometimes I think I should do something HUGE to make myself perfect for him, I changed my hair dramatically once, asked him what he thought and he said " how do you usually have it".
I said over and over when I was a single parent that all I wished for was a good man that just wanted to be here, enjoy dinner and watch East Enders, he is perfect and really, his smile? Melts the hearts of many. Hemakes me snort with laughter too.

7. When I am stressed I'm not nice, you wouldn't like me.


8. I don't like rude people, I don't tolerate it, ever. If a shopkeeper is rude, or a bus driver....I let them know that I don't tolerate it. I get worse as I get older, any day now I will call someone a whipper snapper and tell them that in my day they would have been whipped.

9. I am not a very good carer. Actually, I am, but I am not gentle and patient. I think I am one of those 'cruel to be kind' ones. I don't do that wiping fevered brows thing well, I will fetch and carry and dispense medicines but I say things like " never mind, you've got another one" and " is it bleeding? Oh it's not that bad then"

10. My indulgence is...., see, now, that's where I fall, I copied and pasted from Julie Q's blog and then deleted her answers leaving just the first part of the sentence...on this one I didn't delete enough, should have just left My indulgence......because then I have to add an S, my indulgences and write ARE not IS, because I have so many, I am weak and self indulgent, I eat too many things and take afternoon naps, I read a lot and love TV, I adore crafts and laughing, eating out and being waited on. Indulgent me.

An extra little nugget for you.

We have a commercial here... THIS ONE . It came on and Isaac watched it, pointed and said ( and I kid you not, he DID) "BEHOLD! The son of God." Bless, I sort of see where he is coming from and it Is made out of all natural ingredients, I think Jesus would approve of such a drink.

I blame the parents, kinda.

Ugh. I watched 4 hours of American Idol. I love it, usually. I particularly like the bad auditions. I marvel at how many people get the impression that they can sing, really. I can pick the sad people who have no friends who spend way too long in front of a mirror with the CD player on as loud as it can be, so loud in fact that they can't hear their own voice as it belts along to the song. I see them with eyes closed imagining they are on a stage being adored by all. Even when they are faced with ridicule they reply with courage and real belief that they DO have talent that the judges know nothing, will regret it, are stoopid, and off they go, spirit uncrushed, to sing of their rejection, planning what they will sing next year, when they come back.
Sometimes I cringe so much I actually have to hide my face in shame for these people, at the same time as absolutely loving how terrible they are. It quite makes my week, in a bullying kind of way to watch these people make absolute ninnies of themselves.
However, there is a group of people that I dread seeing, somehow they get through and are added to the ranks of the terrible and shoud be scorned. They are the teenage fragiles and the disabled. Last night I watched a youngish man, who to me, was obviously autistic in some way, sing, with such determination, he was then labelled, mr freak/ geek.
Simon Cowell asked "What the **** was that?" and this sweet young man replied " that was me," his 'weird' tone was mocked ....his intensity was laughed at. And through it all, he just looked puzzled, because he HAD hit the high notes and the low notes and had done things the way they should be done..but he just didn't sound, or look, good. He said afterwards that he would have to watch the recording before he knew what he had done 'wrong'.
Then there are those fragile teens, who beloved by their parents are told how great they are, how beautifully they sing, how stunning they look, how they are destined to be superstars. I suspect this is what their parents see, what they hear. I never get that though, I adore my children, truly I do. I look at them with pride, am outrageously vain about them. I do see their flaws though.
I look at Elijah and my whole being swoons, I can still see he has a little monkey face though, little creature with slightly outey ears, divine and perfect.
I can hear Jordan sing and be touched, but wouldn't pay for him to make a demo tape of any kind.
I am ridiculously proud of my girl child, she is beautiful......I wouldn't though, encourage her in any way, to head for a career as a diplomat.
So, WHY do these parents take their very ordinary, slightly tone deaf, dumpy, spotty, gangly, usually unconfident and slumped over children, to parade their untalented selves before millions and this panel of unmerciful judges?
WHY?
I saw that one 16 year old boy juggling and sort of not singing very well, do his stuff and then get jeered, told he was useless, asked to do even more humiliating tricks to entertain us and then ripped to shreds again. As if THAT wasn't enough, then he is filmed swearing and yelling in that typically teenage way, because he was mortified and disappointed, then, when rage had subsided he wept, real tears and humiliation....his mother hugged him and said
" you WILL be famous, you WILL"
NO. HE WON'T....what she should have done, way before that audition is to say,
" Well, maybe this idea isn't the best. You are pretty good at A B C and we are proud of you, you do know though, that to be a winner on that show you have to be extraordinary at the whole singing and entertaining thing. Whilst WE think you are great, you probably don't have what it takes to win this show. " and then work on what he CAN excel at.
Or, if you are like me and not so tactful with your kids, say ( and I did say it to Sophie when she said she was going to be on the X factor)
" I think not . You can sing, you can. You won't win though because your voice isn't strong enough and you aren't anywhere near bad enough to make it on TV as a 'crap lets make her look stupid' one, so it'd be a waste of train fare, what else do you fancy doing?"
If you are me and then your child then says they will go on Big Brother instead, well then you say nothing, raise your eyes to the heavens and pray, really hard, that she goes off that idea because she IS exactly what they are looking for for that show, big boobs, not a shred of decorum, big gob and a flash temper.
Dear Lord let her go off that idea before next year when she will be old enough to audition. Don't you think I have endured enough in my life without having to see my one and only girl child win that show because she gave so much entertainment? 's not like she would even split the money with me or anything.
Anyway, I digress.
What are these people thinking to allow their kids to put themselves in this situation? Most teenagers are so fragile, especially these ones, the ones I am talking about. Kids that probably don't have to many friends, those quiet shy ones that spend hours alone in their room dreaming of fame and fortune but can't quite open their mouths to talk to real people and have some fun, in the real world.
It is almost as if this particular group are from the same place. I can spot them a mile off, I am pretty sure the auditioners can too, and they rub their hands in glee because THIS is what we're looking for. I think there should be a rule. There should be a mother earth type censor somewhere who edits who can be shown on the show.
I know that if I were on the sidelines I would be able to say
" don't send that one through"
Overweight warblers with no confidence,sweet dispositions and bad shirts are not entertainment, they are just lonely and should be sent on their way, a little disappointed but not crushed.
People with 'empty' eyes, who are stiff and ill at ease, who don't look anyone in the eye but talk in a monotone voice about how they know 'how' to sing because they had lessons and their friends have heard them play an instrument and said they are good...SEND THEM HOME quietly and kindly.

Lumbering big 17 year old girls with bad skin, who have dressed like Britney and say 'everyone says' she is exactly like her......hmmmmm, not sure on that one, let them sing and see just how bad they are.......but probably just send them home without the ritual stripping of all self esteem. Give the stupid mother who allowed her child to leave the house looking like that a smack though, definately.
The 27 year olds who strut and wear Elvis suits, let 'em have it. They probably deserve everything they get.
Boogley eyed fat girls who say they have watched every series of Idol, for every country, who claim to be the BIGGEST fan, who say they are for sure the next American Idol but still, after all those hours and hours of viewing have NO IDEA what the show is all about and STILL think they have it wrapped up, well shove them in and let Simon and Randy have their fix of bullying, they are so asking for it!
Maybe make the large girl with no bra, no muscle tone and a silk shirt understand that no-one is going to get past that fact and advise her that she probably shouldn't dance.
Just someone, please stop those gentle spirits who are trying to find some kind of footing in this world, who are desperate for some kind of acknowledgment, who long for some praise and just need someone to tell them they are of worth, please stop them being sent into that lion's den.
It isn't true that everyone knows what they are letting themselves in for. I can see every week which ones are going to be damaged by that frenzy of meanness. I know I'm not the only one.
I blame the parents for letting them get that far and more for even THEN telling them the judges are wrong, that they DO have what it takes and then probably taking them along to other auditions for even more soul crushing ridicule.
Yet still, I watch.

Things that make me go...oooooh, grrrrrr, ha ha, pppttttttthhhh

This might just end up being a list, I spend a lot of time thinking about how things make me feel.
Like how MAD I get every time I walk into the bathroom and see more PEE ON THE DAMN SEAT. Really, EVERY time, I can never go in there and see a clean toilet, ready for me to sit on. It isn't even that we have 3 little boys, the bigger they are, the more they splash and drip and DON'T CLEAN IT UP!
Then, when I am just about as cross as I can be, something will happen to make it all seem better...like the fact that H cannot walk barefoot, he has worn socks for so long, every minute, that he has super smooth feet, sometimes, he will try and not wear socks and it is quite the funniest thing in the world because he slips, up stairs, downstairs, on flat ground..whooooooop, and down he goes. Hysterical. If he tries to sleep with no socks, it is even funnier because he says his feet slip....it will make me hoot with laughter because he lies there saying he is falling and his feet are slipping....almost makes up for piddley seats, but not quite.
Crusty bread and real butter. Just makes life worth living, also makes me fat which makes it less easy to enjoy living. That's such a problem because I want to enjoy my life, which means eating nice things, but hate being fat. Life is full of disappointments isn't it?
Poo. Can you believe that pooping makes me smile every day? For some reason known only to H, a swiss horn thing arrived in our bathroom, it is hung on a hook next to the toilet. ( and if I wasn't all together too idle I would take a picture) When Isaac, who is a bit worried that he will never wipe his own bottom well enough, has finished his business, we hear 3 long blasts on the horn and H goes running to do the honours. It is absolutely this type of thing that makes this house a great one to live in. Happy day indeed when we heard the horn when Isaac was at school..WHAT? Elijah, on the throne, waiting for a wipe. Hoorah.
Putting the boys to bed. We have a lovely routine that mostly works, H has taken to reading to them while they are in bed. For some reason they have decided that they will be in the dark and H will read with a flashlight.
I very nearly always forgive every last one of them for peeing all over the seat when I see this touching sight. H perched on the toy bench, torch in hand. Seth snuggled, Eli sucking his thumb and Isaac in his little cave like bed. He has a blanket tucked into the mattress under Seth's bed, so his is all shut off from the world. All is well with the world when these people are having storytime.
Wind, not of the bottom variety, but the weather sort. It is SO windy here, gales and people dying. Walls and vehicles, scaffolding and trees being blown and smashed. Scary. When you're inside and the fire is blazing, it's a different feeling, a safe against the world and cosy way to be. With the rain lashing against the house at the same time I really do count my blessings and appreciate how things are for so many other people.
Sleep. I love it. I think it is one of my favourite things to do. Maybe because I don't do it very well. When that blissful feeling of sleep begins, I am the happiest person on earth.
I am about ready to go and sleep right now. Lucky me, shall go and pee first, after I have wiped that blasted seat down again..which will wake me up, will probably end up back down here with some crusty bread and butter, getting fatter but feeling happy with the wind and rain noise outside. So, all's well that ends well. Night night.

The tooth, the whole tooth......

Don't you just love it? He lost his first tooth today, hadn't said it was wobbly until this evening. Then he said " ooh, my tooth is driving me crazy, oh, it's wobbly..IT CAME OUT!"
Naturally, he couldn't leave it alone and was playing with it and dropped it, he said it went in the fireplace. He left the note by his bed. I LOVE Seth's notes.














I adore gappy smiles, the big tooth is already quite big...the 2nd tooth is very wobbly too.
I absolutely cannot be a party to pulling wobbly teeth, it sets my very last nerve on edge...ewwwwwwwww. With the big kids I would give them an apple, or a twix to eat, that little wobbler would get stuck in the food and get pulled without me having to go anywhere near it!

Did you miss me by the way? I've been card making and having a splendidly arty time of it, I am going to be on the ball with birthday cards this year, after the wonderful reaction to my hand made christmas cards I decided I would make all the birthday ones too.
It's my responsibility to make the cards for the children at church, so I am making them too. I am having a very nice time.







I feel like I am in a time warp or something, everywhere I turn things are whizzing past at breakneck speed. Sophie is changing before my eyes, these little boys are growing and getting so big, so fast. I almost think that I need to hold my breath and not blink in case I miss something.

Eli had his first full afternoon at nursery today, when I picked him up at 3.30 he was so tired he could hardly speak, he nodded his head a few times, ate dinner, had a bath and was crashed by 6pm. Heaven. Happy, tired boy.

Isaac has gone up a level in his reading....progress indeed.

So, busy and happy. I can live with that.

It's the way I tell 'em.

I had a pretty good day today, worked out exactly why I have been screwed up ine the head again. Long story, not sure I can even get into it ..... it's one of those stories that once you start telling means you have to tell a whole history and...well you know dull. Usually.
It is great to have that lighbulb ping and the realisation that you're not actually going mad. I like it when that happens.
Also , at church today the bishop came up to me and said
"Helen, I want to thank you for what you said in your testimony last week. I said to Claire ( his wife) that I could listen to the things you say for hours you know how to tell things and put it all together into a story so that we can't help but listen"
Now, how lovely is that? Smashing.
He also said something about giving me a load of slightly dull but necessary books and having me read them, but in my own words onto tape so he can listen and play them to his children. Awww.
It is years since anyone has said that to me. There was a time when I couldn't speak to anyone on the phone without being told that my voice was wonderful and could I just keep talking please. About anything. When I lived in the states I would get discount on stuff like paint if I would ask again for what I needed. Is that fabulous? Asking someone who loves nothing more than to talk and talk, to talk....and then giving them discount for doing it.
Of course, then I had my voice losing, talk hating, don't look at me, period of sadness and so maybe I forgot that this was all such fun to me. It was very nice indeed to be reminded that perhaps I still have it.
So, why have I been slithering reluctantly back into that fear filled angst? Well, it's all to do with monsters.
You are aware that I work with the children in our church. I love that, they are gorgeous and worthy of our very best. They get it.
The lengths that are taken that even after a lifetime in this church I have been unaware of, are enormous. Let it be known that in this church your children are prized above all else. Their well being and safety is paramount.
The children have one hour of singing and such like all together and then they go to classes. Their teachers are picked and called and they have classrooms, each classroom has a window and those responsible for the teachers etc will be sure to look through those windows at least once or twice during each lesson time.
If the children need the toilet during the time they are in primary , one of us will take them, they don't run the halls they aren't alone or unsupervised. Even at church bad things can happen.
The very nature of church means that strangers are welcomed in. Strangers in the childrens' area though are not welcomed and are politely shown to the adult part of the building.
During a meeting we had last week, we were told that it is necessary to be particularly vigilant with the children.
Without giving any details, but with telling you that, yet again I am so impressed with how careful the leaders are with these children, nothing is left to chance. Anyway we discussed how extra important it is to watch these children to make sure that they are always safe and not left unattended at any time.
While that all made me feel great to know just how much these children are loved and protected, it must have stirred up the filthy, dark, hate filled memories of once upon a nightmare. I wasn't aware until this morning, when I was getting dressed and my head was filled with what if's.
What if there was someone at church I didn't know, what would I do if anyone tried to hurt any of these children? What sadness is it that even here, in a place that should be the safest on earth, evil can still get in? While all this was going on in my mind, my whole gut twisted, my whole soul was sad and felt dark again and then I knew that this is what has been eating me.
This is a sad world because we so want there to be places our children can be safe, and they really can be, we just have to make those places safe. We just have to be a step ahead and watch carefully.
We shouldn't assume that because WE are good, others are too. If we take our children to a public place, that has open doors....we should accept that bad as well as good can come through those doors. I just hated being reminded of that. I always hate being reminded of that time when the monster ruled our lives. I am immensely relieved that no monsters rule us now.
What is hugely reassuring is that even without us knowing, there are people watching out for us, people who have our very best interests at heart. Not a stone is left unturned in the quest to keep these children safe and innocent. Reassuring indeed.

I wanna......

We have entered a new zone in the house of many. It is a touching and happy zone, there is a lot is music and smiling and skipping going on.
It is the zone whereby teenagers who have met the person of their dreams play lots of songs with the words " I wanna " in them.
There is something very, very touching about hearing this kind of music and BOYZ to MEN coming from behind the door of a gangling great 19 year old boy. He sings along too, not terribly tunefully but he puts his heart into it which makes it sound good anyway.
Jordan is smitten, we are all learning what we are meant to do, very slowly and awkwardly. I have no idea what I am supposed to do when they decide that sitting with me all night is exactly what they want to do. Blimey. It's quite pleasant to have their company as we do like the same sort of stuff on TV, whereas H likes different things mostly, we watch a few shows together but he likes to plug into his laptop and watch gripping things like inventions from.......anytime that lived in black and white and the ladies wore long frocks.
It IS however mildly uncomfortable to see the intimacy. They are kind enough not to be snogging and mauling each other...they'd better stay that way too or I shall recipricate and snog the face off H in front of them, that'll put a stop to it quick enough I'll wager.
It's just a strange thing to see your child learning about this new step. It's almost like going though it again myself. I remember all these emotions so well. What an exciting time.
Mind you, if you think it's skin crawlingly ack to imagine your parents being frisky....wait til it's your kids. It is horrible.
Naturally the mummy in me is thinking " don't hurt him, be nice, " I dread going through an Elton John phase, where all the sad songs are played and doors are locked.
He is 19, I am pretty sure this isn't it, and hope it ISN'T because 19 for a boy is young, Jordan isn't a mature 19 year old. I just hope that for both of them , this is a happy time.
All this stuff just didn't enter my head when I thought of being a mum. I honestly never got past imagining babygros and first days at school, who in their right minds strokes a squirming belly and thinks about what it will be like when that baby is 6' 5" and dating a model?
It'd be nice to be oblivious but these young' uns are just so
shameless and uninhibited. Is that a good thing? I still hate the idea that my mum knows I have 'done it'.I pretend that she doesn't know. I'm sure that when I was dating, I would sit bolt upright next to my date, should I go to his house. If his parents were in the room I think there would be at least one cushion between us, yet here they are, these 2 young people, lying on the couch together and not a care in the world. Is it a goo dthing? I don't know, part of me loves the fact they are relaxed but the other part wishes they didn't want it all and just felt they could take their time.
Shall I switch subjest without so much as a by or leave? I shall.....
I am being a bit stupid. Have no idea what is going on but my head is playing ames with me again and I am so mad at it.
I have gone right back to being afraid of being outside. WHAT??? I thought it may just be the christmas rush, with all that insanity and shoving etc, but it's not christmas now, is it? The sales are over, school is back and yet still, when I go out, I have a pounding heart, my head spins, I want to puke ( wanna puke? haven't heard that in any of the songs from behind Jordan's door)
I get back to the car ( or house) and find my hands bleeding from where I have been digging at them to stop me crumpling to the floor in a dead panicking faint. ARGH! I am so CROSS! Why?
I'm not sad. I don't think I am worried but I just don't want to go out, at all.
I think I want to go, I manage to get out and then suddenly I am so afraid and so shaky, all I want is to be back in the car, or the house.
Oh...subject change again, am I too late? It has been delurking week this week, I have been meaning to beg for lurkers to come out and say hello and make me feel all worthy of my $10.000 +blog value, I love comments in a shameless and most ego inflating way. Say hello, please.
I know you're there because my lovely google thing tells me. It just doesn't say who you are, just sort of where you are. I am excited that England reads me too, England, Canada, USA, Australia, Spain, Japan, Obanikoro???? ( sorry, no idea where that is..useless me!!) All kinds of fabulous places. Thankyou.
I heart my blog!

Any takers??

My blog is worth $10,726.26.
How much is your blog worth?

I think that is really quite reasonable actually.

The old ones are still so often the best.

Today is story character day for Seth. They have to dress as a favourite character from a story written by a good author, no disney characters and no TV characters.
Seth was a Leopard, from How the leopard got his spots by Rudyard Kipling.


I just love this story, I love the way Rudyard Kipling writes, H tried to read it to the boys last night but it's tricky and very English.

Such fun to see all the kids dressed up, far too many princesses and fairies though......hope the leopard doesn't get peckish!!
School is great at the moment, what a shame both the boys are having such a hard time going in. I am not one of the mummies that gently try to extract weeping children, I get very impatient when I KNOW they will love it, when I KNOW they have fun the minute I leave.
Yesterday after I had taken sobbing Seth back to his classroom 3 times, on the way back for the fourth try this is the conversation we had
" I . can't. go. I am worried about papa"
"PAPA? Why are you worried about papa..he is gone and we know he is fine, we can miss him, but we don't need to worry about him and .....why are you still crying?"
" I don't like school, I never finish my work on time"
" Do they beat you if you don't finish?"
( incredulous whip 'round of neck and stare at me)
"NO!!!"
"that's alright then, no need to worry about that, better get in and see what's happening today hadn't we?"
Luckily, they ( oh touch wood etc etc) usually take in turns to do the clinging thing in the mornings and they never do it to H, it has been plishing it down with torrents of sideways rain for days, all very well to have 10 minutes with your wellies on, but walking to school and being soggy for 7 hours isn't fun. I have taken them this week. I don't like it.
When I picked Isaac up yesterday, his teacher and classroom assistant were almost jumping with glee.
"tell mummy your news Isaac!!!"
Isaac lay on the floor and scooted along on his book bag.
"Isaac, your NEWS, such exciting news ...will you tell mummy???"
Isaac rolled on floor and shook his head.
It took a while but they gave in and told me themselves. Isaac had been playing in the puppet corner with a puppet ( heavens, imagine that!!!) it was reading time, and you have to love these teachers they get him to read to them, even though he doesn't actually talk. They somehow manage to point to the words and watch his mouth at the same time. Now, I know he can read....they are sort of sure he can read but he is very reluctant to show them. Yesterday, they called him from the puppet corner to do his reading, he came over and still had a horse hand puppet with him. Well for heaven's sake that darned puppet read 100 words, out loud in a proper voice! I can picture how they looked from one to the other with eyes open wide wondering when that voice would go right back in!!!
I let them have their joy and didn't like to burst a bubble by saying that chances are he would be silent again today. I didn't get a chance to ask today if they heard that voice or not.
I took Sophie, her friend, her friends nephew and Elijah to an indoor play place today, the nephew is 2 months older than Eli and was very funny. Mouth older than the rest of him, I was left wondering many times how someone of 3 even knows about the things he was talking about!
It was lovely having Sophie and Kylie there to do the sliding and go karting while I read a magazine and just behaved like a chauffeur.
It was also lovely to feel all smug and maternal because na na na na na my kids were nicer than theirs!
Sometimes its good to spend time with other children so you can see how nice yours are.
I listened to Kylie yell at her mom on the cell phone because she had dared to ask for the money she had lent her.... and had a little 'blood run cold' moment as I was flung back to the years Sophie yelled at me, but THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN ANYMORE!! and I listened ( oh for such a long time) to Tyler whining, and whining and asking and demanding and never quite being happy with all the things to jump on and play with or his chips, or his drink. While my darling ne'er do wrong ate his lunch and smiled and said 'thankyou' and got his shoes on when it was time to go.
Perfect me and perfect them. Perfect.

In gratitude, we smack.

We had a moment today, one of those moments that feel as though they are lasting for a very long time, but, in fact it is all over in seconds.
I park outside my mum's house when I collect the boys ( the house which is for sale, when she sells it life will be easier for her and she will have more money and live in a littler house that is easier for her to run and look after, one that won't be RIGHT BY THE SCHOOL....selfish of course but what can you do?)
So, I parked and walked to the school, collected boys who for some unknown reason, rather than being weary and foot dragging after 7 hours of school, are bouncy and loud and they RUN, every day I say the same thing " DO NOT CROSS THE ROAD ! WAIT TIL I GET TO YOU AND WE CROSS TOGETHER!!" every day. They almost always wait, Isaac always waits, Seth is hard to convince on the being a child thing, his mind is 34 he can't understand that being grown up and smart means NOT CROSSING THE DAMN ROAD.
Today I caught up and Seth was waiting for me, no sign of Isaac. We waited and called and looked and called and looked and called and waited.
The road is very narrow, just room for 1 car to pass at a time, cars parked both sides, mine is on the oposite side right outside mum's house.
Lots of cars coming down the road having picked up kids. I couldn't quite believe Isaac had crossed the road, but couldn't come up with any other explaination for not seeing him, he must have crossed and be hiding behind my car.
Seth and I crossed..no Isaac.
That's when the slow motion moment began.
I saw him..across the road having been hiding behind Angela's car, that was parked in her drive. Angela the neighbour and extra grandma that lives opposite the real gramma. He laughed, how clever to have fooled us so completely and then he RAN. Right out in front of a car that was going very fast for such a small street, it was going fast...in slow motion.
I had time to see the horrified look on the driver's face and the passengers face, I saw the passenger patting her heart and screaming. I saw Isaac running, still laughing, I heard myself SCREAMING as loud as my lungs and vocal chords could manage " NO! NOOOOOOOOOO! NO!" And still he ran and still he laughed and there was NOTHING. I. COULD. DO.
The car stopped, just in time, right by my Isaac's 5 year old body, without hitting him. The car didn't hit him.
So I did.
What kind of whacked out reaction IS that? Oh thankyou Lord my child is safe.... WHALLOP! More screaming of a relieved and vomit worthy nature. "WHATHAVEITOLDYOUABOUTRUNNINGINTHEROADWHAT
WEREYOUTHINKINGYOUNAUGHTYBOYIWASSCAREDAREYOU
SCAREDWEREYOUSCAREDSETHITHINKIMIGHTPUKE!"
Why do we react by smacking the legs of a child who has just been spared the jaws of death? It doesn't help anyone does it.. but darned if I've ever seen a mother react in any other way.
A lesson was learned and I so hope it sunk in because I am just too fragile to deal with many moments like that.
Thankyou Lord for keeping my Isaac safe today so I was able to beat him a bit and then kiss his face off in a most embarrassing way when his friends were about to come past in the walking bus. That'll show him, he won't risk that again in a hurry.

The Map! The Map!

SO exciting, I forgot all about my map thing.....over there on the right, you can click on it and then stick a pin in and leave a message! People have been doing it!
I have just had the most splendid time reading your messages and seeing where you live!
THANKYOU!

It's one of those things.

So, my baby started his road to education and all things grown up today.
I have oft read mothers writing about how their babies are growing *sniff* and you know what? I roll my eyes and usually call them names ( in my head) especially first time mothers, because if you ask me, first timers are always THRILLED when their babies pass milestones.
I read or hear women saying that they cry because their babies aren't babies and they started school ( WHOOHOOOOO!) or had a sleepover, or got a tooth and my thoughts usually go along the lines of " Oh shut up! You love it, you know you do. Kids grow up..get used to it!"
I have positively skipped and whistled on the way to first days of school, bragged endlessly at first steps ( 9 1/2 months with Sophie, my children are genius babies, what can I say?) I don't like the getting of big teeth, that does get me feeling a little weepy, those little faces become so gawky overnight when little pearly teeth fall out and big old tombstones take their place.
Anyway.....here I am. My baby, the last one for me, is at school. He loves it, he was divine. He doesn't need me there. Happy boy.
Oh dear life, I wanted to weep the whole damn time we were there.
He loved the sand



He played with cars....






He did cutting and sticking......



He didn't have his daily nap, he was at nursery right through nap time, about 10 minutes before we left he said he was tired.....while I chatted with the teacher he took himself off into another room, when I found him he had got a book, tucked himself into the little play bed and was sucking his thumb, waiting for a story!
My heart leaps with this baby every day.
He is an endless joy. I have to join the ranks of those sniffing mothers who weep at the growing of their offspring.
I will miss him. Truly I will, he just oozes such glorious deliciousness. He expects adoration wherever he goes...and he gets it. He is completely unafraid to show love, his best friend Mia was at nursery for her induction day today as well. Mia cried
and Eli dropped what he was doing, ran to Mia and said
" oh, don't try Mia, iss OK."
I will never have this at home with me again, not full time......I am without baby. I hate that.
My whole life I have thought about, planned for, dreamed of, tried to prevent, tried to conceive, been pregnant, had babies. Even when I was single, when Sophie started school, I still knew that this wasn't the end, that somehow there would be more. I knew it, I knew them, I was waiting for them.
Now I know this is it. I really won't be having more babies. I hope I will be a nana, grandma, I know I will but it won't be the same. I am determined not to interfere when my children have ther children. I won't have a say. They won't be mine. I will visit and they will visit ( because they won't be living with me, no they won't!!!)
I am pretty sure that this will be fleeting sadness. I know that there are new things to look forward to. 'New horizons' as they say in floaty sort of novels and rather sickening positive thinking thingumies.
I might come to love the whole time on my hands thing. I'm just going to miss the precious moments that having little people are guaranteed. There is nothing like a tiny hand stroking your arm while you read a story. I just can't quite imagine that anything I can do from now will quite come up to the emotions and rewards that I have enjoyed so far in my grown up life. Perhaps that might be because I haven't ever wanted anything else.
I put the boy to bed at 7pm, I sat in the dark after we had read our story and just listened to him breathe.
I fully intend to grab every moment of this last baby, soak up every sight of his still chubby thighs, bask in every time he reaches up and plays with my ear as he sucks his thumb.
I am almost ashamed to admit that I am feeling selfish about this last bit of babyhood, I am reluctant to share him, I want him all for ME. *sniff*
Shut up me.

Sometimes, the words just can't be found.

Today was fabulous. My Isaac ran out of class and could hardly breathe he was so excited.
"OPEN MY BOOKBAG!" he said, over and over. I did and inside was a Head Teachers commenation certificate. I will scan it tomorrow and show you. It is more valuable than gold. He got it for helping his teacher in the production of 'the Smallest Angel'
Remember how he was too afraid to be a penguin and they made him director? He took that so to heart.



I went on the 3rd showing of the play. There he was, my director boy, in his suit, with his clip board, as close as he could be to Mrs Teacher. At one point I saw him lean very close to her and thought ( as it was so hot) that he was weary and was about to lean against her. I caught my breath and waited, wondering if I was about to see a miracle unfurl and see him snuggle his teacher. He didn't, he sort of 'caught' himself and sat back up but he was SO close to her.
When I went to collect him, his teacher was so thrilled.She told me just how incredible he had been and explained that he had so taken his calling to heart. She said that every time her attention wandered, he would nudge her and point to the place on the script so she would know where they were.
She said he handed her pens when she needed them and at all times, knew exactly what should be happening.She was stunned that he knew every line and exactly what song was next and pointed it all out to her.
She must have spoken to the head teacher and he thought that was worthy of one of his commendation certificates.
I was beyond thrilled that Seth had one of these for a project he did well, if I am honest I am pretty certain that throughout his life, Seth will bring home many such awards. He is a brain, he thrives on learning, he adores praise and all things to do with showing how bright and sharp he is, he is a super boy.
This though, this award for my Isaac.....well, what a joy. To see how completely thrilled he is , to see HIS little chest puffed out, to watch HIM show daddy his award and watch as it is placed in daddy's special folder, where it is sure to be laminated and treated as precious beyond any monetary value. Well, these things are what makes every frustrating moment worthwhile.

For every time we have to drag him kicking and weeping silently to do something the rest of us do without a second thought.

For every time I have to find yet another jacket because the one he said he loved yesterday is very, very bad today and can't be worn because, well it might make him die.

For every time I have to pretend that I am not sad he is hiding again.

For every time I have to make out as if I am not embarrassed that he has turned his back on someone because they said 'hello'.

For every day I have to give up on a plan I had because my Isaac just isn't going to be able to go aong with that plan.

For every one of those times, there will be something like today, a little piece of blue paper with hisname on, that shows me is loved and valued and appreciated, even though he is hard work and even though he will never be the same as his peers.
Thankyou Lord, for this little boy who will never be like anyone but his glorious self.

Just stuff.

No real idea for todays blog, just a fidgety need to say something. I love saying something. Not often listened to, or heard but just saying stuff makes me happy.
I spoke briefly in church today, such a show off. I love speaking in front of people.
I like the first sunday of each month, instead of set speakers, everyone has the chance to bear their testimony, say what they feel about church and how what they believe makes a difference to their lives.
Sometimes it can be a bit overwhelming and I'll be honest, the loud weeping that comes with strong belief makes me uncomfortable. Sometimes I know that we can be moved to tears if the spirit so moves us, wailing doesn't sit comfortably with me.
I do love, however, hearing those sweet testimonies that are from the heart and are short. I don't think a testimony is meant to be a life story but we get those a fair bit, I don't think it should be a naming thing where you tell how great other people are, we get that too. I just think it ought to be something that helps others to feel good, to maybe remember how they felt, how they feel. Encourage someone to look for something better.
Life is changing here all the time , not anything we are doing purposefully, just a splendid and happy natural progression I think. We all seem to be muddling along together so nicely. Sophie has been so sick and I am a terrible carer, no patience at all, I find myself telling her that yes, I see the welting great rash again, it is as horrible and ugly and sore looking as it was 7 minutes ago but really... looking at the itchy foot while I am eating my tea....doesn't make me feel any sympathy.
17 year olds should soak up the sympathy given the first time they complain, take the medicine the doctor gave them, have a lovely drink and GO TO BED! What would we mothers give to be able to just do that when we are sick? I am pretty sure you wouldn't see me for dust or cortsone cream if I had the chance to disappear when I was poorly. I know she is itchy, but what good does it do to keep thrusting that rash in my face at inopportune moments?
I am a little stunned to learn that Sophie has signed up for a new colege course, she found it, filled in paperwork, went for interviews and got a place and starts tomorrow, its one of those things that leaves me open mouthed and like a guppy. Sophie, being grown up and responsible. Blimey. Hope she loves it, she loves the college and it all sounds great...here's crossing fingers and hoping and praying and trying to take it all in and breathe.

I think I feel like a different person. How so? Hard to say, just calmer. Never thought I would ever feel calm, my whole life has been a worry, I worried about not finding my shoes when I was 12, really heart thumping, wretching fear if I couldn't find my shoes and THE WORLD WILL END IF I DON'T FIND THEM! Children, have children, everything bad will happen, worry, bad things did happen ,more bad things will definately happen, worry, husband, heart attack, worry, oooh every twinge he has, worry, teenagers WORRY.
So, now I am calm. Perhaps my brain just burned itself out. Cool.
I think maybe it's like when a farmer burns a field. Turns the whole thing to black stubble, apparantly when they do that, it makes the field all clean and ready to grow a new crop beautifully. I think that's what happened to my brain. It got burned out, black stubble. Empty and sort of useless for a while, until....little sprouts of great new stuff have begun to force their way through the burnt bits.
I am beginning to remember things.....that might be because I have been such a useless mush brain of forgetfullness for so long that everybody close to me speaks to me as though I am a 93 year old deaf person with an advanced state of altzeimers.
" HELEN! MEETING? WEDNESDAY? 7PM. HERE? WEDNESDAY? OK? 7PM? "

"HEY!! YOU PARKED YOUR CAR THIS WAY..REMEMBER???"

Even I usually remember stuff when I am told so simply and it is repeated often enough. But that aside, I am actually, honest to goodness just remembering things. All.On.My.Own. FANTASTIC! Little sprouts of colourful and beautiful things, shooting through the burned out stubble that was my brain.
I wonder exactly what and who I can become when the stubble is all gone.
I still have so much that is hanging around, the fear that another massive bad thing is waiting around the corner, I have had so many of those that it's impossible to believe that it will all be floaty happy stuff from now on. Life isn't like that is it?
I am just more able to enjoy this time where the good things are happening, even that is a joy, better than being afraid of the good times because, well, we all know some nightmare will come along and ruin it all don't we? That was exhausting, feeling like that was like a living death.
So...here we are at the beginning of a new year, with sprouts of good stuff bursting through the old rotten dross. Here's to what's around the corner...may it be more of the happy stuff. Please.
Oh look, this is Jordan new girlfriend....



she is a model.....she's pretty isn't she? She's nice too and he sort of hearts her and is nice to her. She still isn't sleeping here though. I am in charge. Ha!

P.S
I love H.....it is 10.45pm, we are sitting with a movie on and he has his laptop, he's watching something with earphones in, lots of sounds of great interest are coming from his chair..."ooooh. Huh? Hmmmmmm...."
What you watching?
"Huh? Oh me? Inventions from ancient civilisations"

I think Seth gets it from him.

Halfway through the week....

Half way through our pay week..and LOOK still money! Gas is charged up, electricity already has enough to last ( both pre-pay meters) cupboards stocked, healthy food being eaten ( homemade leek and potato soup for lunh today, mmmm!) This budget is really working out well, it is almost fun to see how little I can spend, when walking home ( because if I walk, I buy less because I hate to carry huge bags home!) I find myself walking past shops that I would ordinarily go into, why tempt myself when the idea of having cash left on wednesday to transfer into the 'treats' pouch is so appealing?
H is happy because he can see what is there and where it is going, he also gets to shop without having to ask for cash ..... he takes the boys too which is GREAT!
This week has been sort of hit and miss because there were so many bills to pay too, from next week the idea is that there will always be enough in the bank to cover standing orders and direct debits, no more penny pinching and scrabbling around to find the money for those bills.
I do feel a certain amount of shame at just how much money has been frittered away on ...what? Nothing really to show for it! Bad me.
Even E.bay is losing its appeal somewhat, I just don't look because we don't need anything. I don't need to see a bargain that is irresistable.......so I don't look.
It feels like we have more money. We don't of course, but seeing cash, split into categories, makes it all more real.
To me, it doesn't feel like spending cash when I use my debit card, I can spend £30 here, £28 there and not think a thing of it...if it's cash in front of my face I think harder about whether I want / need that item much more.
I have also started giving ME an allowance, £30 a week, the same as H....I have never done that before, its been a case of if I have money I buy it, a magazine, hair stuff.....but usually I don't buy it. Now I have a seperate purse for MY money, I can buy a treat or save........it feels good to know that there is something set aside for me to choose.
I am fascinated to see just how much money stays in the bank now. I don't think for a minute that we will hoard up huge stashes of moolah, but just the idea of not having to panic when the rent is due to find that extra £100 I used on who knows what.....thinking about having the CHOICE of whether to go away for a weekend....all this is hugely attractive to me, it will be heaven.
So, so far this is good, we can definately see how possible it is to live like this. I hope it quickly becomes habit and we can see all the benefits of sticking with a plan.

The very best game in the world.

Santa bought Isaac a spy pen, one of those pens that writes invisible messages and then you shine the purple light and the message shows up.
Isaac wants to be a spy. I am encouraging this because it would seem that to be a spy he must be neither seen nor heard. HOW COOL IS THAT? He creeps around the house and hides behind chairs, he takes notes and is silent.
This is a happy silent, not a hiding silent, not a withdrawn silent.
What a game, probably the very best gae in the world.
Elijah has taken his delicious musical levels up a notch. He has discovered ' high school musical' he loves the 'We're all in this together' song. I am going to have to snag a video of him because it is a cross between the X factor and Fame, for toddlers. He breaks into song and dance at a seconds notice, he points and kicks to the side and shakes that little bootie.
I did buy the DVD yesterday, it had to be done, we have had more than our money's worth already, we keep putting it on to the bonus track, the one that has 'his' song on it. We don't tell him we are doing it ...just pop it in and wait...wherever he is whatever he is doing he stops and then he is OFF, right into the routine.
Probably the best dance routine in the world.
He positively basked in being alone today. He was gentle and funny and just glorious.

Isaac, his teacher said, took pretty much all day to settle, he was withdrawn and quiet but by the end of the day he was happier and says he won't cry tomorrow, but he never ever wants to go to school again. Darn it. He did take a break from being a spy in order to be a teacher, he took register, very sweet ,with paper and pen at the ready, calling our names. " Good Morning SETH!" he said and Seth had to reply " GOOD MORNING MR ISAAC" Such a strong and confident voice.
In real life, when it is registration time, Mrs Teacher calls his name and he answers in his head. He has to raise his hand, or a finger or try and make his little disobedient head stop telling his body not to work. To do something to acknowledge his name.
I wonder if he gets mad at this body that won't do what he wants it to do. He says his head won't let his mouth work. Sometimes I stare at him when he is a situation that makes him afraid and I am sure that he wants to do it, he looks like he would give anything to open his mouth and let that voice out. I watch him watch the other children with something akin to awe at how they can be so brave as to speak outloud, how they can get on a stage and dance, my Isaac loves to dance, he loves it.....at home he will stand and dance and clap and twirl, he does his own little freaky break dance thing, he loves the X factor, he loves American Idol, he pretends he is one of the contestants......I wonder if he minds that he just can't let that sweet little voice, that still can't say so many words properly, out.
We bought new school shoes today, clarks of course, shoes have to be good ones for little people, everything else can be ebay or car boot sales but shoes have to fit. I am able to conquer the world if my feet feel good. So, we went to get shoes. They have the snazziest foot measurer there, you stand in it, press a button and hey presto you can watch while it scans your foot and says what size you need. 12.5 E. Skinny long feet. He wanted to go first. He ran to that machine and froze, grabbed Seth's arm and pushed him on.
Oh horror, lady grabbed Seth's trouser leg and rolled up the legs.
Isaac's face said he wanted to get on that thing so badly, stupid legs wouldn't let him get on it. We decided that the lady would stand behind me and not look.....when he was sure she wasn't looking he jumped on, rolled his own trouser leg up, pushed the button and grinned when the machine said his feet were EXACTLY the same size as Seth's. 12.5 E. Skinny long feet.
The lady brought out the shoes she had in the right size, both chose a pair ( such dull old black school shoes, they both so wanted red and silver running shoes) lady helped Seth, mummy helped Isaac, 2 pairs of boring shoes SIXTY POUNDS, £60!!!!!!! They'd better be comfy and grippy and make them run fast and read well and be reverent in church, dear life, SIXTY POUNDS!!!
Probably the best school shoes in the world.
A long day today, a good one though. It's alread tomorrow 1.10 am.....oh H went to the doctor today,he has been in horrible pain for weeks, stiff neck, bad shoulder and arm....headaches and general fed upness. He went to see if he could get a referral to the neurologist and get the marvellous injection in his head again, his new doctor was able to give him the shot himself, it really is amazing to see the difference so quickly, hopefully he will get some sleep tonight, he has been waking at 3am and coming downstairs as his neck hurts him so much, it'll be great if he manages to sleep, just seeing his face without that hooded eye pain filled look was a treat.
Probably the best needle in the world.

Am off to bed. Ah, am sleepy. I love it.
Definately the best feeling in the world.

Well, that was fun.

First day back at school, I thought I would drive them, H usually walks them to school but It's tough for Isaac when they have been away from school for any amount of time.
It was horrendous! Seth was fine until Isaac lost it ..then he joined in and started weeping.
Isaac is heart breaking, you know when you see kids not wanting to go in somewhere, they scream and fight and hold onto the door frame etc? He does that without making a sound, not even a squeak, just torrents of tears silently pouring down his face and the most heart rending pleading look on his face. He roots his feet and hangs onto the doorway and he just won't move.
Nothing cheers him, to make it worse he forgot his hat, his hiding tool, if he has a hat on I suppose he feels he is hidden from it all. No hat, just a hand held over his head and tears, silent tears.
What must it be like to feel that fear over and over again? To work through it, get safe, feel comfortable and then have to go through it all again everytime there has been a break?
It never gets easier being tough about it either. Picking him up and just making him go in, handing him over to his lovely teacher. Walking away as if it doesn't wrench my insides out.
He wanted me to take his hat and I said I would...the thing is, if I do that, he'll cling again and cry again. I feel sick not doing what I said, maybe I will drop it into the office ready for lunch time.

Dan is having a rough time too, he went to work on monday and was told that instead of the 2 weeks he was told,the restaurant is closing for SEVEN MONTHS.....so now he has to try and find a job to fill those months, he has a flat, credit card, bills and insurances to pay etc. He isn't here for his promised 2 weeks because he is in such a panic about finding work for those months.
No matter how old they get they still call home for reassurance, I'm sure he won't need too much of that though as he has worked since he was 16, maybe 2 weeks without a job in the whole of that time. I bet he calls in a day or two to say he has it covered.

Ha, the other thing they don't grow out of is trying to get their own way. I have been very clear in saying that he is NOT to have girlfriends sleep over, maybe I am old fashioned but hey, live with it. I would not allow Sophie to have boys sleep over, one rule for all. He keeps sneaking around that rule so I had to be VERY clear. Last night he said " *Sigh*, probably won't be going out with Mel for long" ( Oh and this is a new girl, not the one with a baby, that lasted a week)
"Oh dear, Jords, why's that"
" Nowhere to go"
"Well, you can come here with her, she just can't sleep here, you can take her out, have fun, go to dinner, whatever, just not sleep with her here."
"Why can't she stay here though?"
"Because I said so, because I am not going to allow anything that I don't want and that Sophie will then decide she wants to do too. Why can't you stay at her house?"
"Her parents don't want it either and anyway their house is too small, they fight all the time and I don't want to be around that."
It doesn't get easier being tough.
It sort of surprises me how kids these days ( am not old, am not!) really want it all on a plate, made easy, their way.
I am 44, not ancient, it doesn't feel so long ago that I had boyfriends. It would never have occurred to me to even think about having any casual boyfriend stay over, if he had, it would have been on the sofa. When I was engaged to the first one he stayed on the sofa, once, I think.
To me, part of the thrill of being young is NOT having it all, having to work at being together, sneaking time with each other, looking forward to when you CAN be together all the time. What fun is there in meeting someone and just right away having it all? I am determined that my children enjoy the fun of not having it all!! Especially in my house thankyou very much.
Sometimes it's sort of fun being tough!