Adventures in the wilderness.

Once upon a quite recent time, there were three little boys Bobby, Johnny-Rueben and Jim.

For most of their lives they had lived in cramped and somewhat dismal surroundings for such lively creatures, but fear not, little stopped the bouncing and mischief the miniature people craved, for small boys have surprising abilities for naughtiness and adventure.

One day, in a rather splendid and unexpected way, they found themselves living in little boys' paradise, in a wilderness of jumble and space. Quite glorious Space, most definitely with a capital S, what treasure.




Bobby, Johnny-Reuben and Jim ran and they ran and they jumped and they span. It was magical. A most precious time of memories and joy.

It seemed as though time stood still, days were no longer measured in minutes and hours but much more by fun and noise and inevitably dirt. Small boys are magnets for the likes of grime and things of unpleasant odours.

The grown ups were banished from the wilderness, not for them such mysteries and freedom. Housebound and dull, exactly as grown ups have always been, they could be seen spying on the little people and watching the adventures from afar.



The littlest of little people was especially watched, he sometimes forgot that there are dangers in the wilderness and with his preference for shoes too big and unsuited for rugged and treacherous terrain he would venture forth fearless in the search for his wiser and courageous brothers. The grown ups seemed not to appreciate the magic of fences and angels who watch over special boys and they hid behind doors and window frames and kept a close and often tear filled eye on this littlest of little people.
The mother grown up was especially sad when she watched the adventures of the wilderness, for in her world, time was still measured in days and hours and minutes and she saw that time was running out.
She saw the delight her miniature people were basking in and she wanted to hold the magic forever. She knew that soon, the wilderness would belong to some new children, little girls called Betsy and Mable.
Would the wilderness be wasted on some prissy little persons who might run from the toads and dragonflies? Would Betsy and Mable understand the wonder of mud and the tangled hedgerows?
Mother grown up was sad to think that the treasures would be missed and may even be left to rot or be forgotten, even worse cut down and cultivated, made pretty and useless.

Would Betsy and Mabel tell Bella their secrets?



Would they stroke her silken ear and whisper of plans for tomorrow?



Time was flying and Bobby, Johnny- Reuben and Jim would be leaving the land of fun and freedom. At summer's end it would be time to move to the house of nooks and crannies. They must leave the wilderness and move to an abode of new adventures, enclosed gardens with their own hidden mysteries and a house with many rooms. This new house, with the river and bridge at it's entrance, like a castle with a moat.



Mother grown up began to think that for some, change is it's own adventure. That each new life will bring it's own joy and mystery and that maybe, just maybe, Bobby, Johnny- Reuben and Jim would find new joy in the house without the wilderness.
She thought about times when she was a small person ( yes, it is true there was a time, many moons ago, when mother grown up WAS small, imagine that!) she remembered having adventures and finding treasure and she saw that even when time has passed and the magic has gone, she can call it back and hold it tight. The little people will still be happy, they will make more memories and hide the treasure in their hearts and minds. She knew that when they were old and they too were banished to the inside, where all grown ups belong, that her little people would rescue the memories and remember the treasure. Her heart lightened and she vowed to make this summer the most magical the small people could possibly imagine.
Magic is wherever little people are, where you find the little people, especially the dirty ones, who measure time with grime and unpleasant odours, there will be treasure and heart pictures, memories and joy. In castles and box rooms you will find whatsoever your heart desires, sometimes you might just have to look just a bit harder but that makes the finding so much more divine.
The End.

Pure Genius.

Hoorah! Problem solved, in theory. Lacey suggested checking out all inclusive prices for flights and hotels when we go to LA in December. Genius! Complete and utter fabulousness. It will cost only an extra £600 to stay for 3 weeks in a hotel, like we are really on holiday! Our own space, someone to make our beds, the feeling of actually going on HOLIDAY. Oh joy. I am going to do it.
I am now excited to go, having spent weeks dreading the very idea I can now look to December and think of sun, shopping, sleeping in clean sheets in a bed ( which will be made by someone else) being able to drive over to grandpa's house and feel like we are visiting because HEY we are on HOLIDAY all the way from England.
Now, I feel like the scrimping and saving will be a joy, because we're going on HOLIDAY, not spending £2.000 to feel very grumpy and put upon and hard done by and all that jazz.
When we visit the house we can actually feel like maybe we can go out to eat or maybe someone will cook for US, instead of ' she's here, when's dinner?'
If we feel overwhelmed by the volume of people, well we can have a day at the hotel and use the pool, we can call and say " HEY! we're going to Disneyland wanna come?" instead of wondering if anyone is going to do anything and HEY WE'RE ON HOLIDAY...... Entertain us!
I am giddy with excitement because I have never had a holiday EVER, not ever. This will be a HOLIDAY! For ME!
So, now we can step up the saving ( as well as moving again, twice) and so you may notice that paypal button because well I see that on lots of blogs, big blogs and little blogs and I have never thought anything but " hey, wonder if that works?"
It is by no means a guilt button. It can be ignored or clicked on. ( actually, that does make me feel a bit squirmy) At this stage I am willing to do anything for a HOLIDAY. Anything except make my regulars feel uncomfortable or obliged. Please don't. It's more for those well to do famous people who I am sure read my blog and wish they could pay me gazillions for my wit and daily episodes of drama and unbelievable news. Those people. It's to make them feel happy and fulfilled. See? I am kind and thoughtful through and through aren't I?
I am pretty sure that I won't ever be able to buy a home or a car that smells like leather instead of wet dog and burning oil, some people manage that with their blogs but that pressure to perform and please would render me unable to write anything but " um........err........today I um, thought, err.......oh no am blank, can't write" so no homes or cars but maybe a bit of holiday?
I'm waffling and excusing myself. I shall stop.
I am going on HOLIDAY, I am. I am going to ebay and sell all my worldly goods and we are going to eat cheap and cheerful meals, walk if we can and clap our hands at the growing penny jar and dream of LA in December, Disneyland and sea world, visiting grandpa and Auntie Kara.
I can't wait to go to target and see clothes for the fuller figure in abundance on regular hangers ( not shoved in the back of the shop with double the price on them)
We will eat Mongolian barbeque, good pizza, get refills and have people smiling at us everywhere we go, we will have people tell us to have a good day and sound like they mean it.
I love England I really do but Americans know how to have a good time. I am so ready for a good time. 3 weeks. THREE WEEKS in a HOTEL, on HOLIDAY.
Oh sweet joy, anyday now, once the HOLIDAY is booked, I will have a sparkling annoying flashy thing, telling the world how many days are left until we fly.
Actually, the whole idea makes me feel like this










we just heard pure joyful giggling from the garden, looked out of the window
and saw him.....is this not the epitome of joy and freedom? What would I give to feel THIS free??
Yeah, just thinking of 3 weeks in a hotel in a sunny place makes me feel like that.

This and that.

I have so much to say but not a bit of energy to say it. How much energy does it take to type some words? Not much at all, which just goes to show how weary I am. Weary.
Last night, Seth came in and said that his bandage had fallen off but it was OK and he had put it back on, rather than mess with it too much, and because he was so OK and not hurting, I taped the dressing on more securely and put him in bed. First thing this morning I took him to the hospital to get it checked.
Oh dear.
It must have bed last night, and dried, and gone crusty and revolting and very very stuck, they had to soak the dressing off and bless his heart he didn't even whimper. The kid must have a pain threshold like none other. ( although he squeals like a stuck pig when I trim his nails?!!) The nurse, pulled and poked and soaked and prodded and he just sat on my lap and sometimes screwed his little face up a bit. After about 15 minutes he said " oh, mummy, my tummy actually hurts and I feel sick." And then he was, sick, he puked his little body inside out. Then he needed the toilet and we were able to come home. As soon as we got outside he said " ahhh, better now, I definitely won't puke anymore. It was hot in there"
I am astounded by this little man. His finger is a bloody pulp. I cannot imagine how long this will take to heal. It does look lovely and clean ( no, not lovely, raw and sore and bloody and truly painful, but not lovely) He has such tiny fingers, he is so petite and bird like and to see that tiny finger all chewed up like that was just horrendous, helped only by his complete calmness and fascination with it.
I have a feeling that when we have to go back to get it dressed again next week, he won't be nearly as calm. Bribery and copious stretchy lizards at 25p each seem to take the sting away a bit. Marvellous.


Dan called today, Sophie girl is happier, we had a blip on thursday when she called and without taking a single breath said
" oh I am so tired and my sink is blocked and the shower is cold and I forgot my toothbrush and I have just been using my finger and I had a tuna and sweetcorn sandwich and I am going to be in this room my whole life because I have no friends here and no-one will ever like me and I am bored and Daniel has had 2 days off and I haven't seen him and I am so lonely and I have nothing."
Wilt ( me) silent prayers ( me) phone call to Daniel.
30 minutes later she was at his flat watching DVDs on his huge TV and using his laptop.
Today he said that she is much happier , is going out with one of the girls from the hotel and he had been on duty with the police, saw her outside a pub chatting with some people. He rolled down the window and barked " WHATCHA DOIN???" The people she was with looked at asked what the problem was, Sophie said " He's my brother"
"your brother is a copper?"
"Yep"
And with that they all turned and walked away from her.
May he always be just around a corner and may news travel very fast in that town! Dan said it was all very innocent and above board but the fact that these people were put off by his being a policeman, well hooray that they walked away.
I am so tired.
Mentally and physically and emotionally. All wore out and ready to crumble.
I Am SO glad that school is out, the relief that at least we aren't tied to a schedule is enormous. To be able to wake up and paddle around in my pyjamas, that's what is keeping me this side of drooling in a faux leather chair in a day room somewhere.
Which may or may not be a good thing.
When you start to envy those people who lose it and are sitting staring at a wall with blank expressions, regular drugs and a cooked meal placed in front of them on a plastic tray, well it's probably time for a nice holiday. I will hopefully be getting a holiday in 6 months, after 2 more moves and who knows what surprises.
I say hopefully because nothing is ever certain and right now, Grandpa has his 2 other kids ( kids?? Grown offspring) living with him, and a daughter in law and a grand daughter. In a little 3 bed, 1 bath house. I am not paying close to £2.000 to sleep, all 5 of us on a blow up bed in grandpa's front room for 4 weeks. No, I'm not, no siree.
We do not have the money to stay on a hotel, so unless grandpa's house empties out some, we'll be staying right here.
When I lived there, back in the day, in that other life. I was pretty much chief cook and bottle washer, sole female and not beloved. The men in this family have not a clue about women and on top of unsatisfactory sleeping arrangement? I am so not going all that way to cook and clean for all those people. H's sister is great and I love that she will be there but the rest of them? I doubt that they would notice or care if I dropped in an exhausted heap from serving them all and cleaning up afterwards..... I NEED A HOLIDAY! I don't need this life thousands of miles away without even the promise of my own heavenly bed at the end of it all.
I keep trying to subtly explain my feelings to H, upon which he gets that puzzled look on his face as if I made it all up and who could NOT want to be just as we were?! Might be time to drop the subtlety and get the sledge hammer out.
nearly 1am. I am ready for my bed, I could stay there for 3 days straight. If only.

Here's looking at you kid.

Gorgeous boys, though I say so myself. Only had to take 65 pictures to get these, they're getting better!!

The boy.

I have no babies. None. My littlest boys is four today. All grown out of the little things that make babies a whole species of their own. I rather like babies but am feeling a sense of freedom and am beginning to feel as though I might come out of the fog anyday now. Once I can sleep a bit more.
School holidays. I love them. No school runs ( 3 a day lately) no making packed lunches, no uniforms of set times to be and do. Just us doing what we think of doing, as we feel like doing it. I woke up at 8.30 yesterday and today, that to me is like heaven.
Today was Elijah Henry's birthday. Four. Big boy world.



We had a lovely day but the relief that for a week or so, we can just relax, no pressure. Well apart from doctor appointments and moving house, all's pretty darn hunky dory.
Eli's party was really just a few friends playing and having some tea, jelly and cake and anything that I could grab that was in a packet and needed nothing more than to just be put on a paper plate.
He loved it. Which is exactly how it should be.



He loved every bit of his day, except the part when he was overwhelmed by the urge to taste his number 4 candle. He chose that candle and held it, he wanted it prominently placed on his Shrek 3 cake. He hearted it. So much that he ate it.



But it wasn't good!

Sweet little singing boy who just loves every minute of every day. Rarely cries, always sings. Naturally assumes that he will be adored wherever he is..and so he is. My neighbour said the other day
" That little one...I just want to look at him, listen to him, love him. He is just gorgeous." He really is.
He is still very drawn to all things pretty. Long hair, skirts, flip flops, the more spangely and gaudy the better, high heeled shoes, hair bands. He gets dressed and then pulls his tee shirt down so that the neck is around his waist. Hoorah! a 'stirt.' No shoe is safe around Elijah. No little girl or pretty lady can relax if she is wearing a necklace, long chained and sparkly is his idea of perfection. Lawks.
He is an endless joy. Life without having had this boy doesn't bear thinking about. He is a gift.

So, really...

If my life were a soap opera, it would never catch on because no-one would believe it. Viewers would switch off tutting and complaining that all bounds of credibility had been stretched beyond belief and the writers were treating them like idiots because, pttthhhhh, no-one has a life that full of drama and mayhem. Do they? DO they?
Happy birthday to me, yesterday. Beautiful day with glorious sunshine and promises of happy things.
We were almost set for the perfectly posh party and I had let the boys skip the last but one day of school because, sunshine, cake, fun? We need it, muchly.
10.30am, time to shoot to the shop and buy some strawberries and cream. Home again home again, jiggety jig. As I drove through the gates at 10.55am ( 5 minutes to party time) I saw H and Seth at the door, covered in blood and screaming ( Seth that is, H was sort of hopping on one leg and holding Seth and looking relieved to see me and maybe 20 seconds away from screaming too.)
Isaac had slammed Seth's bedroom door and Seth's finger was in the way, Yegads, I took a quick look and saw bone, ack......straight to hospital, left Seth and H there and drove home, I left the door open and made one quick call to tell my friend what was happening. On the way home I got a call from my niece and explained to her and asked her to go in and at the same time warn her that it looked like a scene of crime in the house. Seth has run upstairs, downstairs, in the bathroom, the blood, there was much.
I got home, luckily people were running late and I set to, scrubbing the blood off the carpets, walls and sink. Then I heard Gemma...
" Helen! Oh, normally I'm not the squeamish sort but I found the finger. Oh!!"
Wanna see? Want to see my boys FINGER???? It's blurry but still gross and will make you legs quiver and your stomach churn, be warned.
Here's a link . That's the whole nail, the nail bed and about 1/4 inch of his finger.

Happy birthday to me....happy birthday to me, I thought I would vomit, happy birthday to me.

Poor little boy. He was amazing, he had surgery, they had to trim the bone, try and close the wound. He's bandaged up and will have to see various people in a week and then 2 weeks. He will never have a nail and I expect his finger will look pretty weird but he isn't in pain and seems fine. H and I might stop shaking around about 2013, maybe.

I think my party was fine, I was there in body but my brain was really elsewhere and as soon as everyone left at 3pm ( without eating cake because who can remember to serve cake or talk or be sociable when your boy has his finger stuck on a door frame? I had taken it down by then and even showed people who aren't my mum, because grandma's legs give out when 6 year olds digits are wrapped in paper towel and handed around at a party) I shot back to the hospital just as the boy was coming out of surgery. He was in hospital for about 10 hours, we got home around 10pm. He is just fine, amazing how kids just get on with life and let it all go.
I woke up at 3.40 having a panic, somehow at the time I just got on with had to be done but when I relaxed and it was all over....
OH MY LIFE! HIS FINGER! THE FINGER! STUCK TO THE DOOR! POOR LITTLE FINGER THAT IS IN THE BIN AND NOT ON MY LITTLE BOY'S HAND!
So, that was yesterday.
Sophie is happy. It is a long time since I heard her talk with hope in her voice. Still praying. Always praying.

Where's the paper towel...my cup runneth over.

She's there.
I am holding my breath and curling up in a safe little ball, all inside my head.
She cried and really cried and she hugged me, hard.
She knows I love her. She does.
Dan is more than an angel ... who knows what to call him? He is beyond glorious.
He called and kept calling and telling her how great this was going to be.
He called when she was on the train and said that he had the staff waiting as a welcoming committee, that they were all going to play cards, eat pizza and put her hand print on the office wall.
He called when she arrived and said that she was happy and excited and that her room was ready and she started work at 9am tomorrow morning, he has told her that she will have £645 a month after tax and her accommodation has been deducted.
He has worked out how much she can spend and still have £3.000 saved by christmas. He has told her that this job is for as long as she does it well and she can make of it what she will.
He has also told her that she gets no favours, she has no chances and she had better make the most of this opportunity.
She has £8 to last her until I send some money next week. There is a new law here that forbids smoking in any public place, she cannot smoke, even in her room.
Dan will buy her credit for her phone, will take her out, she can go to his flat and hang out and he will introduce her to good people. He won't give her money.
She will be paid on August 17th, soon enough for her to have something to look forward to, long enough away for her to clean out her system. We are pretty sure that this drugs deal is very new, she has tried whatever people have given her and she liked it.
She is so skinny, tiny but not gaunt. She has never been fat but she has always been beautifully curvy. Right now there aren't many curves.
What was wonderful is that a few of her real friends, the ones that come back even when she has been revolting, they came to the station and I wish I had had my camera. They said all the right things about how lucky she was and how perfect this job was and how it was all the best of everything but will she come back and visit? Can they go and see her?
There was hugging and crying and teasing and laughing.
When she got onto the train with huge holdall, backpack ( without clanking metal mug thankyou) 2 carrier bags, a vanity case and a handbag. She stood, looking very young and with tears streaming down her face and the train began to move. Those beautiful girls who came to say goodbye, well, they yelled her name and they RAN, right alongside the train acting like war brides sending their men to war. They waved and yelled and shouted and waved ......... and she laughed.
There is so much good in this world and she tasted it this evening. I hope she feels so much of that that she can hardly believe how things were here lately.
I told her that she has been dragged down and been feeling that she is stuck, that she can't behave anyway than the way she has because people expect it of her but now, well now she gets to rewrite the book. These new people only know her as Dan's brother and will be looking to see how fantastic she is too. That she can shine and laugh and have fun. She can show them who she really is and enjoy how much they will love her.
I told her over and over that I adore her and that she has been breaking my heart but now I am looking forward to hearing how great his new life is. She can do it and the biggest part of me knows she will.
I hope she knows it. I hope that she isn't so low down that she has really forgotten how beautiful she is and how possible it all is for her to do whatever she chooses.
She told me that the last time she can remember feeling anything close to happy is when she stayed with a friend in a hostel type place for homeless teens, she said she felt good because she was 'better' than them because she still lived at home, that she chose to be there and they didn't have a family that cared like she did. When she left and I wouldn't let her come back, she said she felt like nothing. She felt lower than anyone else she knew and didn't feel she could ever feel good about herself again.
I saw her grow tonight when her good friends ( that she felt she couldn't see anymore because they were better than her) came to see her and were telling her that this was fabulous and she was so lucky and they wished THEY could have a chance like this. I watched some hope come back, I saw some straightness come back to her spine. I saw the smallest light in her eyes.
When I wrote in my letter to her that I couldn't do this one, and I pleaded with God to take this trial away, I believe he heard me. I have never asked that before, I have always asked for the strength, or the wisdom, for guidance and clarity of mind. The ability to go and do and conquer.
My boy took this one away, no accident, no happy coincidence. Almost immediately my prayer was heard and this nightmare was taken from me. Now my girl has to take her life into her hands and make good.
I will be true to my word and will be grateful for those things I have, even the leaking house and backfiring car because, truly, I have everything I could possibly need. I will not stop praying for this child of mine and I know that this is the very beginning, it is not over, it not all healed. What we have here is a fragile miracle.
I have such faith in prayer and have no doubt that prayer works. Not always do we get the answer that we long for and rarely is the solution to our problems a simple one.
I am, right now, feeling humble and incredibly grateful.
My cup runneth over.

He sent me an angel.

21 years and 11 months ago, I was given my very own angel, he has stepped in and presented his sister with what could be her salvation.
Daniel has given Sophie a live in job at the hotel where he works. She will be a chambermaid, cleaning rooms and helping out, room and board and a pretty good wage on top. She leaves tonight and starts tomorrow.
She is leaving behind all the people who have helped her get this low. She will meet new people but right in the foreground will be her brother. She knows this is her final chance, she knows that brother or not he will sack her without hesitation if she messes up, if she gets involved with the wrong crowd he will have no hesitation in making sure she and they get away with nothing.
This is a huge risk for him and I know he is doing it for me.
I am so proud of this boy and am so grateful that the Lord gave him to me, that he sent him to step in and help Sophie at this time.
Please, please don't let her mess this up.
I have cried until I have puked, I have been almost unable to stand with the weight of this worry. It will be a long time until I can relax but for now at least I can breathe.
I am cooking her a huge roast dinner, letting her have a long hot bath and putting heron a train.
Thankyou Lord, please don't take your eye off this girl..

Dearest Sophie.

I. can't. save. you.

I have nothing I can do, nothing to say that you will hear. I am powerless and I have to step back and watch what you are doing to yourself.
TO YOURSELF.
This, my girl is YOUR life. Yours. Amazing that even though I gave you life, even though I was the means of your being here. I cannot live this for you. Would that I could, I wish with every quivering fibre of my being that I could crawl inside you still incredible body and take over. But I can't.
For 18 years I have fought your corner.
I gave birth to you and when, 10 weeks later your dad walked out, it was because of you that I spat such rage. I KNEW that you would somehow grow up feeling that this was your doing, that because this stupid man, and that's all he is, a stupid man, had no vision, because he had absolutely no idea what treasure he had right in front of his eyes, so he walked in search of happiness and treasure. Stupid, stupid man.
He didn't walk from you, he is running from himself. IS he happy Soph? Is he? Did he find what he left for? He's still running.
Your childhood without the daddy you craved was sad for you. Your epilepsy made things difficult. That was then, this is now. Don't let the past wreck the future, don't let disappointments ruin the possibilities. Don't.
You have such memories in your head, so different from mine, so filled with belief that you were never loved, that everyone was better than you. No-one is better than you beautiful girl.
When you would clear the playground because you were so in everyones face, when you couldn't, because you were poorly, learn how to play nicely and have friends, I fought for you. I helped you make friends and you had fun.
When your dad would let you down I cried for you.
When you were left behind because he would take the boys and not you...I would make up for his loss.
HE was the one that missed out sweetheart.
When he made you sad at christmas, I drove 200 miles to get you, I made Christmas, I found Santa and you had magic. I did that because I adore you. You are my girl.
When I stick to what I say, when I tell you how something will be, when I give you a consequence and I stick with it and I have to endure the rages and the screaming and the swearing and the pure hatred, I do that because I love you. Sophie, I love you.
When you were 5 and you wouldn't sleep, when I was a single mother with 2 little boys who were so hurt and sad and I had you with your epilepsy and all your behavioural issues, when you would come downstairs again and again and again. What did I do? I gave you a choice, you could stay in your room and read a book , listen to your music, play quietly or you could sit in the downstairs bathroom, with the door open but no toys, no company, no books. You screamed for 3 1/2 hours that first night, every 5 minutes I would remind you that you had a choice, your room, with books and music or the toilet. Again and again and again. The next night you screamed for an hour, the 3rd night you came downstairs, looked at me and said " Ok, I will go and read a book" and from that night you stayed in your room and you were happy.
How did that get turned into a memory of being locked in a bathroom while I played with the boys?
I would never do anything like that Sophie. I had to teach you to sleep, I had to do something to make sure that I had some time in the evenings to recoup, to recover and be ready to face another day. For 10 years I was single, I refused to date, I had my friendship with Gary, the one man I had ever really loved. I kept him apart from you mostly because he wasn't free to be with us. When I saw that you adored him that you wanted him to be your daddy, I had to end it, be lonely again and hope that you weren't too damaged. I got that wrong. I'm sorry. He didn't leave you like your dad, he was never ours in the first place. I took what wasn't mine to take and when you do that....well you will always suffer in the end.

When I met H, I was happy. I thought that here was our family, here was the man that you could love and who would be an example to you. I wanted more family, I wanted someone to love- that loved me, I was tired of being alone.
I can see how you felt that you were pushed out, you're right you did miss out a bit, going from having my every attention, my constant company to having to learn that I am allowed to love too, that sometimes I can and should have time for me.
I had 3 more children, little boys with their own personalities and quirks and needs and blessings. I didn't stop loving you when they were born, not an ounce of your love went to them.....you are my only girl, my most precious daughter, my heart. Always.
I made a mistake for those 10 years in allowing you children to believe that my sole purpose was to cater to you.
You are my only girl and such a beautiful one that it's impossible not to marvel at how stunning you are.
I am, if I'm honest, a little in awe of your confidence, those same impressive boobs that I had, that I hid and covered and was embarrassed by, well you love yours, you stick those babies out and you hold your head up high. You appear to be so unafraid by anything and I am afraid of everything.
I can see what you think you are hiding though and I know you ARE afraid. I know you are sad and I know that you want the mummy to save you. I cannot do that. If I thought that grabbing you and bringing you home, if I believed that doing that would work, that you would cry and be sorry and want to try something different that WOULD make you happy, in less than a heartbeat I would do it.
Snorting white powder will not make you happy, it will not make your world a better place.
It IS NOT helping you little girl. You look like hell, like a girl who has nothing to live for, who is on the brink of disaster. I saw you with those people and I died inside a bit. What do yellow skinned, bleary eyed, tattooed 50 year olds want with a beautiful, sad little girl?
They want to strip you of everything they lost years ago, they want your soul precious girl. They want you hooked so that you will have to do what they want to keep getting your fix, this happiness you tell me about.
THEY ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS.
They aren't my darlin' they are the devil in very poor disguise. I would sell my soul and give my heart to save you, to make you see that you are killing yourself.
By letting me 'find out' what you are doing so easily, I hope that means that you don't want to be doing this, that you want to stop, that maybe it is a sad attempt to find something missing. I am ignoring the voices that tell me I am clinging to feeble hopes.
I hope that one day you will be a mother that you will hold a child of your own in your arms and know, in an instant what it is to love. I will pray, every day of my life that you will never, ever have to stand back and watch that child destroy her/himself and be powerless to help.
I can't save you sweetheart, I can't stop you, I can't make any of this better. I have to wait until you want to change it, until you come to me and tell me that you want it to be different, I have to let you believe that you are on your own, feed you when you are hungry, tell you I love you and hope that one day you believe it.
This is not fun, I am not sitting here in this house happy that you aren't here bothering me anymore.
I am here praying that you won't die today.
I lie awake hoping that you are with safe people, that you ate today, that you are sleeping at Jordan's and that you will wake up soon and want things to change that you will use some ( or all ) of that bloody mindedness to fight these demons and realise that you are of such infinite worth that drugs and drink and men with yellow skin and hooded eyes are not what you need and definitely not what you want.
The whole world is at your feet my girl. You are able to be and do and have whatever your heart desires. Nobody can stop you doing the great things you dream of when you think no-one is looking. You can have it all.
IF YOU DO IT FOR YOURSELF.
There is love in buckets waiting for you, people holding their breath waiting for you to come and get it.
I wrote journals in the olden days, in the days before blogs. I wrote so many of them it was hard to carry them. Every time I wrote them I would imagine showing you, as you grew, that I felt what you feel, I thought that I could use them to show you that I was young once, I could prove that as you grew up I wrote how much I loved you, I wrote about all your exploits and the crazy stuff you got up to. You made me laugh and cry every day of your childhood. You were the most stunning baby, white blond hair, chunky thighs and a laugh that was irresistable. I could never go out without people stopping me to tell me how glorious you were.
Every one of those journals were lost. Every single one gone on the journey over to America. Every bit of written proof that you are my heart, that since the day I first saw you I was determined that you were going to know what greatness and joy were.
Every written memory to show that you ARE loved , that you have never been a reject or an after thought. I am so sad about because it was real and undeniable, you would never be able to yell at me that I have never loved you. All those books.
Every picture of that laughing little girl who captivated us all with her naughtiness and joy. Lost, memories of a happy girlie gone forever. No matter that I still have it all in my head and my heart, you don't believe anything I say anymore. I am so sad. I want to thrust them in your face and make you see that you are so WRONG, that you have always been loved and treasured and so valuable to me.
Show you how you laughed all day and how we took endless pictures of that chunky little white haired girl who hid kittens in her backpack and ran away with imaginary friends. That cheeky 3 year old who poured 40 bottles of shampoo and bubble bath, conditioner and toilet cleaner in the bath.
the little girl who would ask strangers to be her daddy and bury sleeping holiday makers in the sand. Sweet little girl who kept me on my toes from morning til night and then some.

I saw that you had found my blog. I hope you come back and find this. I hope even more that you believe it.
Every word is true. I promise you.
You are so glorious, my heart is breaking to see you looking this way, dull hair, grey skin, dull eyes. Don't do it Sophie.

Please hear me when I say that I love you but this is something that you have to do for yourself. If you don't learn to love yourself, the real Sophie Alex, if you can't see that you are worth fighting for, worth working for, well the battle is lost. This is up to you and all you have to do is call for me, tell me what you need, show me that you are ready and desperate to help yourself and I will be by your side so fast your head will spin. What I can't do is make it easy for you, the best things in life always come from hard work and are almost always the result of blood sweat and tears.
I think of how sheltered my life was, of how I reached 25 without ever having first hand experience of anything that I read about in the news, divorce, child abuse, drugs, homosexuality. None of it of any importance to me because it didn't affect me, not in my world.
Divorce...horrible but not the end of the world, we did it, got through it.
Child abuse....all done. finished, over and beaten. Talked about until I could puke and now the monster is dead.
Drugs...this one was the one that frightened me least, stupid people do drugs, no hopers, my kids aren't stupid and they know how much they are worth, they won't do drugs, not mine. NOT MINE!
Dear God, save my girl.
Please send someone or something to show her how precious she is, she won't listen to me, I can't make her see.
Please don't make me do this, don't make me watch this child kill herself or lose herself or ruin her life. Please. Oh Please.
I did all that other stuff, I did. I got my boys through the abduction and abuse. I learned that homosexuality isn't the end of my boy being my boy.
I see that a child with disabilities is a blessing and not a curse.
I understand that losing my dad isn't the end, that although I miss him I will see him again. I know that, I do.
I live with the memories and the hurt and the pain of all those things I have lived through and I even manage to see the good that has come through those trials, but this one, please don't make me watch this, because this girl is too precious and I am just not strong enough or clever enough to help her. She needs you to do it and I need you to do it. And I am begging you to take this one away.
I will live without the material fripperies that I think I long for, I will move house and clean other people's house, I will make do and mend, I will stick with my old car with it's back firing exhaust, I will let this beautiful house go and be grateful for that stinking one with the leaking ceilings but please don't let my girl do this to herself, send in the cavalry, the knight in shining armour, the miracle. For me and for her.
Please help my girl.
Oh my Sophie, you are worth the fight, you are worth the time and effort and energy, I will match everything you give to yourself, but you have to go first. This is your fight Sophie, get your gloves on and stand in your corner,I'll hold your towel and cheer the loudest. I love you. Always, I do. Honestly. Mum xxx

P.S. Message to scumbag people responsible for helping my daughter in anyway to harm herself.
She has a brother that is a police officer, a dad ( useless in many ways but handy in some)who is a prison officer, a brother who for some reason, although a gentle giant, has no worries at all about beating the living shit out of people he discovers have hurt his family and she has me. A mother who has vowed and is totally unafraid to kill with her bare hands, anyone who is ever again directly responsible for the abuse or long term suffering of one of her children. Idle threats? Don't try me. When my child is involved my my fears leave me, there will be no head bowing, no scuttling, no hiding and no timidity.
Watch and see.

A prefectly posh party. *ETA

You are cordially invited to our perfectly posh barn on tuesday where we shall be having a perfectly posh party for my birthday.
Women and unavoidable children only (not that I don't adore other peoples' children but posh luncheons are so much more satisfactory without them ...or mine and tuesday is the last day before school hols).
Please bring a plate of something perfectly posh and wear a flowery frock and even a hat.
Weather permitting we shall eat al fresco, if its plishing it down we shall be inside enjoying the salubrious poshness of my converted barn residence.
Time is ticking on my ability to pretend I am posh and deserve to be living in such surroundings so let's grasp every chance for a 'bit of a do'.
Wish you could all come...what will you bring?

Look, am ready to admit that posh is unlikely.....ahem, can't even seem to spell perfectly posh correctly ( see title) am having delusions of grandeur, leave me be to enjoy it while I can. Thankyou)

From the giddy heights.

I think I found fame. Look, its ME on Amalah can you believe that?

Where, What, When, Why and lets not forget Howard.

I can hardly believe I haven't blogged for a few days, I thought I skipped yesterday but it was sunday I last wrote. Actually, truth be told, I HAVE blogged but never hit the publish button, only the delete because Lawks a Mercy those entries were so M.I.S.E.R.A.B.L.E. I was depressed when I wrote them and about ready to jump off the trampoline and never mind the safety net by the time I re-read them. I couldn't put you through it. Hell, cheer up already why can't I?
H is getting the brunt of it, well deserved I suspect as he is making my last nerve hit the high note without even trying. Same old H, beloved one minute, loathed the next and all without skipping a beat. What is it with me and him and marriage and all that jazz? How can he make my heart skip one moment and my head explode the next without changing a thing? I think that may well be the problem right there. The same old, never changing, no skipping thing.
I am 45 in 6 days.
FORTY FIVE.
Old.
Where am I ? Why am I here? Where have I been and where, please tell me, am I going? Why, at this age, am I still floundering and getting nowhere? What happened to the passion I never had or the romance or the fun or the grand gestures? What about plans and dreams and all those 'when I grow up' fantasies? Any fantasies actually.
This was most definitely NOT how it was going to be. Ever. Not in my dreams anyway.
I am so angry, furious even because life has got me and made me old before I am ready. I am still so full of energy and ready for all kinds of excitement and what do we have? Old age living. Steady as you go, fish on fridays, don't rock the boat and always knowing what we will be doing at 8pm and it is never anything that makes my heart race or my stomach flip.
I am spending way too much time with a flippertygibbet screaming inside my head " HEY!! Have some fun! Make hay while the sun shines! Laugh some more! Grab that chance!" and I try but ........gah what's the use?
No-one wants to play.
I do all the stuff around here, you know the shitty stuff, bills and phone calls and shopping and laundry and finding homes and filling in forms and grown up stuff. H does the dishes and he reads and plays with the boys and he does anything and everything that feels alright with him. He is a good man.
I do the birthdays and the social things, we have been having people over to our posh barn and entertaining and enjoying the company of friends, apparently we are quite the place to be and I hear there could well be a bit of a wish list of people who are hoping to come over, I like that, I LOVE that. H enjoys it I think, he doesn't suggest or invite ( except mum amd Leah he invited them before I got to it) but he welcomes and enjoys and says " that went well I think."
What is making me grind my teeth is this.
" H is amazing. I LOVE H. Isn't H just incredible? What about that H then? " much shaking of heads and marvelling about his greatness.
Grind.
Today, mum and Leah, Gemma and her boys came for dinner. Gammon steaks, egg, chips, peas. Fish fingers chips and peas for 5 little boys. Me. Shopped for, planned, cooked, served.
Mum arrives and looked in the garden, proclaimed about how clever H is ( for cutting the grass, yes, it was a tough job, well done indeed.) House looks amazing. HOUSE LOOKS AMAZING...It does. I did the house I DID THE HOUSE! ALL OF IT! Bedrooms and stairs and upstairs and HEY! HOW DOES THE HOUSE LOOK???
Leah comes upstairs "WOW! Howard, somethings smells GREAT up here"
OK Lady, that did it " WHY HOWARD?? Leah????!! Why Howard? He is just sitting here with his laptop.
I shopped, cooked dished..I DID IT! Tell ME how it smells. please. She told me that it is because he has always cooked when she has been over.( Or, once when she came he cooked, the other 3 gazillion times it has been me, always me. ME.
Leah don't take this too much to heart you are one in 3098 people who have told me this month just how amazing my husband is but wait and see if he remembers my birthday, wait and see) He is amazing and mostly I am first to point it out but lately, I am invisible to him, more than normal and my upcoming 45 yearness is making me scream for attention, make me feel young and feminine and wanted and important and anything but old and over it and finished and useless. But this is H and he is as he is and these emotional outbursts are all so high maintenance and must be ignored at all costs, she will get over this if I just ignore it and pretend I have no idea what the problem is. Please God.
I am stamping my feet ( metaphorically of course) NOTICE ME dammit.
Notice me.

Rough start.

Today was a rough one to begin with ( still only 11.35am and the day seems long ahead of me!)
So much has changed in the past few weeks that today it slammed in on me. Much of it has been good change, much of it scary, more leaves me with that dreaded feeling of being absolutely and completely out of control.
When I manage to stop myself imagining the worst I can see quite clearly that this isn't terrible. I am in control, mostly!
This whole moving thing could turn out to be the making of us, I can see enormous chances for growth and the possibility of making it work very well for our family.
The opportunities are endless. I have seen, without our having planned it, just what H and I are capable of. I have learned some fascinating facts about us, seen quite clearly that we have strengths we didn't know we had. Cool.
I can see that we could almost make a business out of what we have learned lately.
How many empty properties are there that could use some TLC and some kerbside tittivating? I wonder how many buildings are sitting unloved and perhaps filled with junk that could be cleared, cleaned, loved and sold?
How many jungle like gardens could use some tidying and clearing to make the properties look more appealing?
Whenever we move out of a house we have rented the landlord will make a comment about how the stove is cleaner than they have ever seen it, how the carpets look great ( not in our last house though, ack those were BAD carpets!!) So many opportunities, for now just ideas but maybe not for long.
I am clueless to the world of self employment. I am intrigued and feel sure that there is a market out there for things H and I excel at. The boys are growing, in January, Eli will be at school full time ( can you believe that??)
My head works in such a way that to be tied down to certain times and days and expectations is so frightening to me that I can't imagine it ever happening. I am so afraid of letting people down that it happens because my fears paralyse me. As long as I feel I am doing something because I choose to, I am able to do it, as soon as I feel obligated I fail. Most people are like that to a degree aren't they? Something that is hinged on my choices, my control and my talents is enormously appealing to me. Is it possible? I think so.
I snot cried for too long this morning. I feel a bit precious and in need of some gentle, never going to come from H, loving support. A fair bit of ego pumping and some brow stroking would be heaven. H has many great qualities, pampering to my girlie weaknesses is never going to be among them.
Crying is alien to H, he doesn't get it, can't understand it and the very idea that he could put a stop to it quickly by putting his arms around me and saying it will be OK, well........give us a shout when those pigs fly! He sort of hrumphs and tuts and shuffles awkwardly, mutters about my being unreasonable and wonders almost aloud about how I can have come to such bizarre and grossly exaggerated conclusions.
The Lord knows what he is doing and by giving H sons I think was a good move, apart from the fact that he is showing his sons that emotions are ridiculous and big boys don't cry etc. Luckily they have mothers who aren't a bit afraid of kissing them soundly in the middle of the street and loudly proclaiming undying love at the school gates, all evens out in the end we hope.
H is building a website, a very cool one that has obviously taken enormous amounts of work. He mentioned it in passing a little while ago and then when it came time to set it up and make it real he told me a little bit more ( and asked for the bank card to pay for it) check it out, maybe it won't appeal to too many as it is a church based site, but even if the subject isn't of your choosing you can see how good it is and what work has gone into it.
" WOW!" said I , with genuine interest and wifely pride" how long has this taken to build?"
" hard to say" was his reply. This is how our lives go, you know, me trying to talk and share things, him trying desperately not to give anything away or have me fawn over him.
Wall, head and much banging.
Mostly we are happy, sometimes I long for some romance or some communication or something. I pointed out a handsome young man carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers on friday. " LOOK! Some men do that you know, buy flowers and pretty things for the women in their lives" ( as opposed to kneeling pads and anti wrinkle capsules from the dollar store)
" hmmmmm" he replied, with puzzled expression on his face " he looks like he is on his way to the cemetery"
*SIGH*
I hate it when he asks the boys " WHY ARE YOU CRYING?? QUIT CRYING!" I will point out that they are crying because they are sad, frustrated, angry etc
and are quite within their rights to weep.
"well how does THAT help??"
How do you explain feelings of the heart to someone who doesn't feel much emotion ( although I did see him well up when we finished a particularly delicious lamb roast once, when his children were born...not a flicker) I imagine it must be akin to my feelings the sight of an iPod or iPhone, I don't get it, whats all the fuss? Why do people care about those things? What? Ppptttttttttth. Mamby pamby emotions and all that stuff.
We are Jack Sprat and his wife, opposites and the same all at once. I feel like I bend to his choosing way more than he does to mine, he feels he lives by my rule more than I do to his. My suffering is greater than yours. Na na na na na.
the thing is, when push comes to shove I am pretty sure neither of us would change very much about what we have, who we are and where we are headed. More kissing would be on my list, less talking would be on his. ( which actually works, if he were kissing me, how could I talk???)
So, crying stopped for a while, thank heavens, how much more puffy could my nose and eyes stand to be?
I do appreciate those of you that tell me I am ( insert pretty much any positive word here) I feel as though I am endlessly whining and really I don't mean to, because things are really pretty good for us.
We are considerably poorer at the moment, £480 a month poorer actually. Even with that, we are calmer than we have been for a long time. It will take some getting used to, our new budget, we can do it though and we will do it. I have a feeling that changes are coming that will mean a whole new life for us. You'll be the first to know when they happen.

Lucky charms.

Ahem......^ do you see that? Do you see it? Thankyou. Noname

Unloved and empty house that we will fill and love for a little while, but not yet. Not for 8 weeks.
Pretty river and steps and water.

A veritable jungle.

THE. HOUSE. IS. SOLD.


Surprisingly, that IS ok. We can stay until the summer is over, then we have TWO houses to move to. Lucky us.

House number 1 is a great big house with a garden that has had students living in it. It is very full of all things students can't live without until they move house and then leave behind. Silver standard lamps and tennis shoes, empty food cartons, smells, you know the kind of thing. It has umpteen bedrooms, bathrooms the size of Texas , rooms we may never use and decor that leaves a lot to be desired. No matter because we we will only be there as long as it take sour landlady to evict a mad man who is living in house number 2, a LONG TERM rental property that we can pretend is ours for at least 2 years. HE is not a good tenant and is as we speak sitting firm and destroying the house.
*sigh*
The estate agents think we are marvellous, says we are a lucky charm, we make landladies empty homes so appealing and homely that they are snapped up by the first people to look around.
I think we might well do the same thing to house number 1, it has the potential to be the most splendid dwelling. Why do people allow such buildings to be so unloved? Even though we know we won't be living there more than a month or three ( you watch, we'll end up there so long our feet will take root in the somewhat ugly blue carpet,which actually will be fine because we can live there RENT FREE til we move again) we will be unable to not love it and will polish it and make it smell beautiful ( please, damp / sweat is so not a good aroma) we will make it our home and have pride in it. It does have a garden ( jungle) and also a river, with real bridge at the bottom of the garden and steps( GET DOWN ELIJAH! NO! ELIJAH..... you will DROWN!) It has windows in the ceiling of the sitting room, could be dining room, how bizarre. It has a colossal kitchen of much blueness. It has a school next door ( not our school though, sadly, how lovely to be able to lift kids over the wall whilst wearing ones pyjamas and then heading back to bed for a while) and a supermarket immediately opposite. It is within walking distance of the town ( handy for H, not so much for me because walking? WHY?)

This house was the one that B the landlady ( hereafter referred to as B) told me about before she showed me the lovely holiday barn that we are holidaying in for the next 7 weeks and 6 days. I wish she had just shown me it in the first place and had us just move right in, oh well.
So, B is going to hire a van and some men and they will move us next time, she will do everything she can to make sure that these next 2 moves are as stress free as they can be.

My only sadness is that the long term house has no garden. None. No freedom for little boys.

The thing is, rental properties are so hard to come by lately, good ones are impossible and long term......forget it. The carrot like promise of at least 2 years of not worrying about moving is too great for us, we will take it and try to make the lack of garden as un-sad as possible.
This summer is going to be one of memories for these little boys. Enormous trampoline, go karts, basketball hoops they have them all, they can go outside
in rain, wind and snow ( and even that wouldn't shock me this summer) and they can explore even the most overgrown of corners of this land we have right now.
I am going to do my very best to enjoy this time, I am going to ( she said with such conviction) gird up my loins ( which actually, will I? Who knows? but that phrase certainly sounds as though it is saying what I mean so I shall use it regardless of whether it is fitting or not) and do what needs to be done, I will dread all the damn form filling and notifying, the switching of utilities ( groan, oh the phone calls) put up with it all because it all means we will have a roof over our heads and a plan for the future.
I will pray that this will be alright, that my nerves can stand it all. That we can have some SUNSHINE PLEASE, this summer.
I shall look on it all as an adventure, as a job of sorts that will eventually be to our advantage. I am sure the boys will be fine, we will make it all seem like fun and let them know that we are lucky to have these chances and adventures.
Wish us luck.

Oh look I went and took pictures, just for you ( and me of course) how pretty is that river?

Just hanging about with Anne.

Isaac wanted so badly to try the stilts.....he picked them up several times but just couldn't quite get himself to step onto them, look at his face can't you see that wishing?

It was sports day today, Isaac was clear in that he wasn't racing, he would be 'hanging about with Anne all day' and that is just what he did.

I love Anne and am always so touched when I see just how much she cares for this little boy of mine. He is very tactile with her, lots of hand holding and hugging, very good to see. He has shone this week, AT LAST they heard him answer the register, loud and clear he said " GOOD AFTERNOON ANNE" all year he has done no more than raise his eyebrows, they say his name and look right at him and he raises his eyebrows to let him know he heard his name. This week, out of the blue...with perhaps 10 school days left, he spoke! Little git, it's almost as though he waits until the very end of the year and then lets them see just what he is capable of, he did this last year in his reception class. How far will he go backwards in September when he starts a new class, without Anne and lovely Mrs H? I suppose we will have to wait and see.

Here he is, with Anne, carrying the water bottles onto the field.

Seth, on the other hand, ran every race, with such vigour and determination and incredible good grace when he didn't win..... for someone so competetive this was his greatest achievment of the day. He loves all things sporty, loves the racing and wants desperately to be the best, to win.
Isaac takes his role as Anne's helper incredibly seriously, he guides and points and shows the other children where they should be and what they should be doing, the remarkable thing is, they let him, they seem to love him and not one of them ever takes umbridge at this child who doesn't actually do any of it himself showing THEM what to do!


Look at my little bean jumping for all he was worth, he actually came 2nd in the sack race, he is quite small but this girlie is very tall! It's only when I see pictures that I notice how little and brown my boys are next to their classmates.

Look how Anne smiles at my boy, she comes to our home and has even been swimming with us on saturdays......no wonder he feels so safe with her. I can't stand it that she won't be his helper next year. this growing up thing is just too tough sometimes.

And.......relax.

So, no sale. They made an offer that apparently was insulting. Anyway the scare was enough to make me jump into overdrive OMG what shall we do where shall we go I can't stand it mode. I am working on some plans that I will share if they go anywhere. For now I have made it clear that for the next 6 weeks we are sticking with our right to peace and quiet and have notified the estate agents that until Aug 27th we will not allow anyone access to this house, no viewers, no surveyors, nothing, no-one, stay away.
We have the trampoline up, basketball hoop, we have cleared some grassy areas, these boys are in for a great summer.
I went shopping today, I got such a buzz.........
these are the prices, original and actual

£129..........down to £10
£36 x 2 down to 10p each..yes TEN PENCE each.
£69.99 down to £10.
£49.99 down to £10.
£36.00 down to £10

I love finding bargains and these were fantastic ones, all stuff for the home, some DIY stuff and some rugs for the boys rooms. Oh and a 6' garden table ( now have to grab some matching chairs! )

I am struck quite often by how my moods swing so much, I hate that I am so open to having my emotions altered by life in general, H is so steady ( although more and more I see that he IS affected he just doesn't run around wailing quite the way I do! He lives by the belief that if he sits and waits it will all be alright and he is right because eventually it IS alright but....that is because I am running around 'fixing' stuff and arranging things and 'doing' I wish I had the nerve to join him one time, just relax, let it be, see what happens. What do you think? We will never know...... because I CAN'T DO IT!

Sophie has a place to live, oh thank heavens, it is a room in a house with an older lady ( my age but older than her!) she has known this lady for a long time and has spent a lot of time with her, the lady's son is moving out and Sophie is having his room, she has to pay £30 a week which is very possible and will teach her to budget and plan her money better. I know that she will be happy and also have help from someone she admires and will listen to. The relief is enormous, she is happy about it and has been quite happy when I have seen her. Long may it last! Jordan is doing so well, he is furnishing his flat, had a great holiday in Turkey and I can see him growing up before my very eyes.
I need to see Dan, seems way too long since we saw him last, he said he will come down this week but we'll believe it when we see it, I miss him.
So, better day today than yesterday, that's a good thing, if we can say that everyday we'll be getting somewhere won't we?

And what, pray tell, could I entitle this post?

Oh it's so funny, you won't believe it if I tell you. Shall I tell you anyway? Hmmmm.
OK. Today I got a call from Dexter at estate agents selling this house. I did. Laughing yet?
He said that the couple who saw the house yesterday would like to come back and look again today. Stupid man, who saw the house yesterday? WHO??
No-one that's who, I shall humour him and say yes, just for the hell of it.
So, he gets here just ahead of his clients, quick chat.........yes, the couple saw the house yesterday, inside and out.....they DID! You know, did Howard not tell you? NO HE DID NOT AND HE MIGHT BE SORRY. Very sorry.
So, seems this couple love the house, yeay for Bridget the landlady, house that has been sitting empty for year and a bit is now in demand, whoohoo.
Go us. great homemakers who make otherwise unmarketable houses the must have homes of the week.
Arseholes.
H says he isn't even going to answer if I mention where we can go ( yet t'was HIM that let the damn people look around when we have legally NO obligation to do so until we have received a notice to quit which can't happen for another 6 weeks. ) I probably shouldn't go on too much about how I told him that that was fine.....not like he actually does anything anyway, I shall wait til a week before we move and then tell him and he can pack his own stuff and try and get the internet connected, which still isn't by the way, connected here, damn dial up with AOL bloody disc that makes me want to punch someone, the list is getting longer, I have a veritable plethora of people who look good to wallop right now. I have been sitting here for 20 minutes waiting for photobucket to open so I could wait 45 minutes to download cute pictures of kids ( 10 of them) playing in the garden and grownups eating great food in our kitchen but to hell with it, bloody dial up.
I shan't cry, where does that get me? I cried buckets over the last house, didn't stop it going through, didn't stop us having to spend over £1000 to move here to beautiful holiday house. Like we have that kind of money to shell out again in a months time.
I am trying to wait until I know if these people are going to buy this house and set up their *&$%$* catering business in my laundry rooms, before I really let rip. We are in a pretty good position in that even before we moved Bridget of many houses none of which we can actually stay in long enough to dirty the cooker, she said that should this improbable event happen she would pay our expenses AND find us a new home ( for maybe 3 weeks next time? Who knows??) We have a 4 month contract, if she wants us out sooner well maybe we can ask her to make that worth our while.
OH MY HELL I do not want to have to think about this now, or ever.
Is there a millionaire out there that wants a lovely investment home with smashing tenants who do the garden and wash walls and love their rented home that they can't buy? Can you buy this house and let us love it for you and stay here and not move and let my little boys hide dead frogs under their beds because dead frogs are treasure don't you know?
Look how we love this place, we have people over and feed them and the kids all have sports days out in the nearly done garden, using bags of grass as obstacles......the grown ups stay upstairs and talk and listen to how far away the kids sound and then we go out and smile at the kids and say how great this house is. And stuff. I know that if I whine about how unfair it is that this couple with their kids aged 5 and 6 can afford to buy this place and we can't..... I am, at the same time, aware that it IS perfectly fair but just for now let me whine about how I wish they didn't want THIS house, grizzle, whine.
So,can you believe it? Have you stopped laughing yet? Isn't life a hoot?

Guns and hammers.

I hate phone calls at midnight, or 5am or anytime that isn't in the middle of the day actually.
Dan always calls at bizarre times, never before 11pm, very often before 7am. This time he called at 5.20am. I try to be cheerful to hear his beautiful voice but sometimes I am grumpy. I am grumpy because I am so sure that the only reason the phone is ringing is to tell me someone died or is in hospital, weird as I have never had a phone call like that ( oh yes I did, 6.05am when my dad was breathing his last breath) For some ridiculous reason I always feel like I MUSTS sound like I wasn't asleep. " HELLO?! " Here I am wide awake just waiting for your call, you'll never catch ME out. ( unless you call at 2.30 in the afternoon, my favourite nap time, take your chance on that one if you will)
Anyway he called at 5.20am with his usual cheery and LOUD phone voice ( Dan, if you still have this blog address and are still reading, you DO have a loud phone voice, I still love you though) He called to tell me that he had just been chased by a man armed with shotgun and hammer. What a way to wake up. I really woke up and I don't think I have been back to sleep yet.... GUN AND HAMMER!!!
He was walking back from job #1, hotel manager and walked past a man in a doorway, job #2 ( policeman)makes him notice shady characters, he looked at the man and recognised him as a wanted shady bloke, as he recognised him, the man also recognised Dan. Dan walked past, went 'round a corner and called the police right away, as he was speaking he saw the man coming after him and as as he walked faster so did the man........til they were both running. Luckily armed response vehicles arrived and caught the bad man who had just done something horrible. Nice policemen who caught the bad man and saved my boy. It was 5.20am because he had been at the station writing his reports etc. all night long.
Being mother to grown kids is a million times harder than parenting babies, toddlers or under 12s.
Jordan is in Turkey, a foreign country, flying on planes and probably not putting sunscreen on or wearing a hat.
Sophie is Sophie and we try not to think to hard about what she is or isn't doing if we can help it.
Dan is getting chased by bad men with guns and hammers and walking outside when it's dark without a mummy or anything.
My hair is grey. It's winning the battle of weariness and worry.
Little people are so much easier, it's a case of shovelling mess and living with noise of such levels that your ears bleed and beg to fall off your head. I don't think I have ever seen a mother with jug ears, mothers always have ears close to their heads, it's where they are trying to escape, flatten themselves hard against the head before folding in on themselves and escaping.
Mothering little boys is more about settling arguments about who is breathing the loudest and who should be allowed to climb out of Seth's bedroom window or throw THAT basketball as opposed to any of the other 54637221 ones.
Seth has discovered reading with a vengeance. Sticky history books at the moment, he keeps disappearing into his room and curling up on his bed and reading. Oh joy of my heart. He loves having his own room, I love him having his own room and to see him read, to hear his yell " I am reading myself to sleep....DAD! I am reading myself to sleep OK?" Sheer heaven. Stay little, please for a long time.
I dread the day these little people start needing independence. I dread it.
I love this age, Eli is 4 in 2 weeks... FOUR. Isaac is 6 next month, Seth 7 next month. Someone put a hold on it right now ( or maybe when Eli is out of night time pull ups, which will be any day now, surely to goodness??) I can even cope with the toothpaste murals on my just cleaned bathroom, I will live with the wrappers that never make it into a bin, I will love the wet clothes ( n'er mind, itter dry) that Eli leaves scattered everywhere, or even never finding a complete pair of shoes because Eli cannot see a shoe belonging to anyone else and not wear it, just long enough to take it somewhere else ( our new garden is REALLY big by the way and shoes? They take a lot of finding in this place!) I'l take it
all rather than the stuff that comes with teenagers and grown kids.
I have been taking pictures of life in our barn, but with dial up....it could be a while til I download them and post any. We should have broadband back next week, I hope. Oh go on then...here's just a taster.


Looking out of the window in all te rain, wishing they could get out there! What can they see??

THAT's what they can see.......they want OUT there!

Look at the fat frog...



We have had some great sunshine the past 2 days, thank goodness, the rain was drowning my soul. I bought a rotary drier the other day, such joy I have in hanging my clothes out to dry in the country air, I honestly do keep looking outside to see my clothes line ( hello? Life? What happened?) I love the sound of the crunching gravel as we walk across to the laundry room.
The sun has made us all so much more cheerful. H has worked on the garden, little boys have played in the grass, been exploring in the open spaces, we have found fat frogs and little black scorpion like things, we have found balls and butterflies, they found the tiny stream at the bottom of the garden at 8 o'clock last night, I watched when they thought we weren't watching and it was priceless to see them looking around to see if anyone would stop them jumping and throwing stones, digging and splashing.
They are constantly dirty, sweaty, grimy, dishevelled. Perfect. One of these days I might take a picture of the bath tub AFTER the plug is pulled and they are out, squeaky clean in fresh pyjamas ( that stay fresh about 3 minutes because remember the bathrooms and bedrooms are downstairs.... blink and the buggers are out again.) that slimy, grimy, filmy layer is so not pretty!
Anyway, I digress, I was saying how much easier it is to be mum to little people than the big ones, I am so thrilled that Dan thinks of me when something huge happens to him, I love being first on his call list. I love the fact that he thinks of me and wants to tell me stuff, I just wish that stuff happened a bit earlier, or later or not in the middle of the night, just sometimes.
I shall pray that the stuff he wants to tell me don't involve guns and evil people too.

PG 13 indeed, risky me.

Because I have hell, pain hurt and drugs mentioned. What's your blog rating?

Is it me?

Is the blogging world having a funk? It all seems a bit dull and weary to me lately. I know that I can't seem to be funny or interesting at the moment. Imagine, and me being such a wit and all usually!
It's a rum do when I can't even make myself laugh anymore! Sad to admit that many an evening I have made myself snort with n'ary a care as to whether anyone else laughed but just to be able to find humour in my life no matter how bleak, kept me going at times. Now....not very much going on in my head. I think I am having post moving idiot syndrome or something. The tough stuff is done for now ( let it go for heavens sake, I am driving myself mad with the 'when and where' thoughts ) I am completely and utterly zoned out. Physically I have slumped, have a cold and AF and could sleep at the drop of a hat. My skin is terrible, my hair like a birds nest, I am spent. My head is happy though, already we are wondering why we thought that old house was so great when all along THIS one was here and empty and longing for us to make it a home.
We've been here a week and already entertained twice, it is perfect for visitors, open and beautiful and spacious, the kids ( no matter how many) love being outside and even in the rain they run and can be heard blissfully far away in the distance. Seth has to be dragged in every evening and is only happy when he knows that tomorrow he can do it all again.
H is happy, he potters and tidies and organises and works, we are promised 3 days of sunshine, this could mean some serious clearing of waist high grass and some lawn showing up. I long to be able to enjoy the outside. We are excited to have garden parties where all our friends can come over and enjoy the garden with us.
The feel of this house is wonderful, so peaceful and calm. We have craved those feelings for years. Long may they last.
It seems incredible to us that we live here, this house is on the market at £399,995. That's big money isn't it? How did we get here? Never in a million years would we have imagined this. My favourite thing is the feeling of safety and privacy. Those huge 10ft gates with which we can lock the world out and behind, the security lighting that flashes on should anyone walk into our world. The fields and hedges. The open spaces and quiet. I LOVE quiet!
In the last 18 years I have known more fear than I would ever be able to explain, I am afraid of everything. I fear almost everything, I worry about things most people don't give a thought to. In my mind I read news headlines. I exhaust myself.
Living here has stopped so many of those thoughts. I feel as though I have been taken and placed in a whole new world. I love this. I need this. I don't think it is an accident that we came here and I hope, I really hope that we can stay long enough for it to really make a difference. I feel as though I am not in that old world anymore, I don't want any part of it. This is where I have been longing to be. It's like a castle and we have the power to pull up the drawbridge, we can keep out the things we don't want here and invite in every bit of joy we desire.
Exhale.
I hate that money can buy this kind of feeling. I wish that I had been able to find this elsewhere, maybe in my heart or my head but I didn't. I have found it behind 10 ft gates and within 3ft thick, ex cowshed walls. I have found my Nirvana .
Tainted by the fact that this isn't mine, it is temporary and we accept that we can enjoy it only as long as no-one with the money to buy it comes along. So much more than bricks and mortar. More than money. This is the answer to questions I didn't even know I had.
Thankyou.

Oh.......Thankyou.

I'm a bit hopeless at praying properly. I forget to kneel down at set times and have a chin wag with the Lord. I do think we should make the effort to do it properly but I also think that He hears us whenever we talk to him, he understands our hearts and he knows our minds.
Last night as I crashed into bed, I sighed and muttered a heartfelt "Oh...THANKYOU!" It was most likely one of the most heartfelt and sincere prayers I have said in a long time. The feeling of utter contentment and gratitude was tangible.
This house promises to be a lovely one to stay in, the boys are gloriously happy, even in all the rain they are grabbing every minute in the garden. Every day we discover new joys to be had.
Seth just loves having his own room and seems to have grown up by years in this past week. Isaac has taken his role as oldest in the shared room to heart, holding Eli's hand in the morning and making sure he is happy and ready to start the day.
The jacuzzi is heaven, what more to say about that?
The smell in this house is beyond divine, beautiful wood and fresh air. Ahhhhhhh. Bliss.
We have dial up connection, just like the olden days. That noise is the pits isn't it?? Hopefully we will be up and running with high speed any day now. Still so much to do that quite honestly, it doesn't matter at all that we can't spend too long on line, so much to polish and shine and unpack. We have been here a week already, how time flies when you're having fun.
Sunshine today we're told, we'll be making the most of that I can tell you!
Happy 4th July wherever you are.