We're in.

Were in and getting settled, can't say as it feels like home yet and after wednesday night,( when we were woken by Isaac who said he heard voices and was scared....only to discover that there were people with a crow bar trying to break in ), well that could take a while. We are battened down, locked up, secured and faithful, hoping that we can do well with what we have.
Internet tomorrow ( we hope) am so hoplessly out of the loop that I know not what the date is, 1st september is when the man is coming, which has been 'tomorrow' all week according to me!

well, whad'ya know?

It all went hopelessly wrong! Jordan called to say that one of the chefs walked out of a sister restaurant so he had to go and fill in there, landlady called to say that 'oh dear, promised van and man were no longer available, I found an alternative van and driver....she said it was a bit pricey ( £100?!?!?) and maybe we should hire a van? " good idea, said I ...are you happy to drive it for us?" Suddenly my plan was sounding good!
Then that van fell through.......arses to it all.
2am I had the mother of all breakdowns and hissy fits, all upon my own which was such a waste because it was a splendid example of hysteria if ever I managed one. No matter, managed to have another mini one in front of mum at 9am.
H and I spent most of the day at the new house, mum had Eli ( thankyou thankyou) and Dan entertained the other 2 ( oh joy, heaven, all day being able to get things done and no fighting, bored little people, no having to stop and feed people or get drinks, just doing what we needed to do.
At 3am today I decided that I was being ridiculous, that this whole depression about the smell and the hated bathroom was something I had to get a grip on and do something about, so I did. At 8.45 I left the house I bought a large piece of beautiful, brand new linoleum. When Eli was dropped off safely and the boys were out with Dan I shut myself in that formerly detested and afeared bathroom and I transformed it, having scrubbed until I was about ready to wear through to the kitchen, I knew it was clean but that dark grey, worn lino with it's cracks and curly edges.....shudder.
I painted the walls a beautiful clean pale yellow, I cut and fitted that heavenly floor covering and I put up pictures, also a huge pine mirror. I sat ON THE FLOOR next to THE toilet, which smells lovely and is sparkly and clean and oh so ready for me to sit on and not jitter or fidget. I wept with the sheer relief at having a bathroom that is lovely to be in, with shower and clean shiny bath, and I got to do the hands on hips I am just about as bloody brilliant as it is possible to be dance. Twice.
The boys rooms are cosy and ready for mattresses to be plopped on top of bases, pictures on walls ( newly painted walls in Seth's room, thankyou H)
The little dining area is looking a bit pretty and sort of diner-ish, the kitchen is clean but sort of ( or very) disorganised, the front room ( which actually is the back room and should be called the sitting room in this house ) is ready for finishing touches. On the wall is the most enormous funky picture, all abstract and not at all my cup of tea....but the colours work in a surprising way and I find that I kind of like it.
I can't help but think of what the estate agents will think when they see it, they saw it when it was full of junk and as filthy as a house can possibly be. The landlady saw it when it was clean and had curtains up but hasn't seen it now. I want her to see it tomorrow with our furniture in and our spirit there.
I am weak with a feeling of comfort and peace.
I think the bad has gone.
There is still one room that needs some loving, we are using it as a store room and for now I can cope with just running in and getting what I need and getting out again. As we empty the room I will be more inclined to face it and rid it of whatever is making it such a miserable place.
I think I might be more muddled than usual this time, not quite sure what is where and might have to stand staring into space trying to remember what box/bag/pile things might be in more than usual ( heaven help us all!!) Only one room is crazy though, not bad going! I am looking forward to taking pictures to share though because I have been such a blasted misery about it and because it has taken so long for me to not hate it, never mind like it.......before we left tonight, I walked around on my own and almost felt excited, when I realised that I was actually barefoot and had walked right though the house ( with the exception of dogshit room, sorry to say shit, pooh is unpleasant but not nearly as unpleasant as shit and this room smells like shit ( said it 4 times, that must tell you something!) well I knew then that I had cracked through the barriers and would be able to live there and not die of misery!
I am pretty sure the smell is in my imagination but whether that is the case or not, when that room is empty that carpet is getting ripped out, then I will KNOW it is in my head. I will replace that carpet and cost be damned because I cannot stand the way the thought of what could be on it is making me insane. I don't care how many people tell me they can't smell it, I can.
So, I do believe it will be alright. For 3 months, time goes so quickly I am going to have to force myself to just enjoy a week or two before I start fretting about the next move. Just take a breather, enjoy the good bits, ignore the bad........I can do it, I can.
Pictures on thursday if we get the internet all set up and working. And if I still have strength in my fingers and can see straight and stuff.

What's the absolute must do thing if you are moving house tomorrow?

Have a Party! Yes, that's what we are doing in about 2 hours. I stink because I have been scrubbing and lifting and all that malarky. So we are having a party. Hooray.

3 sleeps.

I almost want to whisper this.
The new house looks absolutely out of this world gorgeous.
The front room anyway. I went back this evening, upon my own ( as Elijah would say) and I froofrooed. Bugger all the scrubbing and polishing, the washing, vacuuming. I have done that 'til my hair aches ( has your hair ever ached? You have to be very very tired for your hair to ache but it is possible, even if you are bald like H, incredible isn't it?) Anyway. I put down rugs ( on the already scrubbed 4 times floor) and I put up curtain poles ( YES! ME! With cordless drills and screwdrivers and swearwords like BUGGERING HELL GET IN THERE WILL YOU DAMN THING! and also other ones that I probably shouldn't mention because people from church read this) funny thing, when I was a single mother and had to do stuff that involved screwdrivers and sweat and swearing, I would cry piteously " oh, so sad that I am abandoned and unloved and have no man to do this and what did I do that was so terrible that my husband left and now I have to do all this myself and ........." that kind of whining nonsense. Now I have me a husband who can ( and does) I tend to like to do it myself because I am so clever and who needs a man when you can do it yourself? Always best that I am completely alone when I attempt these things though because I get so incredibly irritable. I talk and curse and mutter....
" look, just damn well get in there and what? What is the matter? Why? Oh please, look it's just a bloody screw, what's the problem here? " and then when it is done I am all sweetness and light and I praise myself and stand with hands on hips and say out loud things like " Damn, I am good. Would you just look at that? LOOK! Oh. Beautiful. " which is what I said about the front room because it really REALLY looks beautiful and there is barely anything in there yet. I am itching to get there on tuesday and arrange and rearrange and shoo people out and let them carry washing machines and microwaves and hurry up and bring my chairs and couch and that TV cabinet.....thankyou, put it there and leave.......awwwww beautiful room, *stroke* and *sigh*.
I had my camera and I so nearly used it except then the effect on tuesday evening would be spoiled a bit because I tell you what, I am determined that by the time I go to bed on tuesday that room will look like something out of a glossy magazine. See if I don't.
Internet will be set up on thursday which is pretty darn good, seeing as it took 5 weeks last time ( who was in charge of getting the internet sorted last time around? Hmmmmm, wonder who!) telephone too, we can even keep our same number which is a cool number and easy to remember, a good thing for me and my brain.
Isaac found a child size guitar in the loft at the house today, he has yet to be separated from it, he says when he is a teenager he is changing his name to Jerry Lee because he loves Jerry Lee Lewis, he plays " whole lot of shaking going on" on You tube all day long and we all have to yell "MY BARN" when he asks
"What barn?" He was in 7th heaven tonight because as long as no-one looked at him, he sat with guitar on lap, strumming along and actually, I think he WAS Jerry Lee Lewis all evening long. ( and unperturbed that, as Seth so kindly pointed out, Jerry Lee didn't actually play the guitar)





They have played so hard this summer that they all actually take a nap in the afternoon, Isaac says every day that he is NOT~TIRED..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Seth reads but doesn't nap and the rest of us....heavenly snoozing. It's what makes life worth doing isn't it?
On that note, off to relax and feel smug about my new front room, that might be a parlour, or sitting room because it is Posh.

Everybody is entitled to their own opinion.

Please don't tell me yours.
It's like this. I am 45. ( I know you know, just bear with me)
When I was 16 I rented my first house with a friend. Thus began my venture into being an adult, having my own space, being a homemaker.
Since then I have lived in 1 cottage. 3 flats. 1 barn. 1 condo. 1 duplex. 1 bungalow and 12 houses.
I have lived in England, Germany and the U.S.A.
I have moved on my own, moved with husbands and no children, moved with husbands and children,moved without husbands and with children.
In pretty much every move, in fact all but once, I have been in control, arranged finances, utilities, removals, hand overs, take overs, references, the whole kit and kaboodle, I have done it all.
So, helpful though it may seem, I do not need to be told or advised on how , when, why or where.
I can work out what room to use for what purpose. I can decide where to put which piece of furniture. I know when and who to call when changing suppliers for telephone, cable, electricity.
I know whether to pack or unpack, I know what to pack and not pack, I know when to move things and when to let other people move them.
I know that the first thing you should always do is make the beds. I know that if the beds are made and clean, there is enough food for dinner and breakfast and the TV is tuned in, we are set to go and everything else will fall into place.
I KNOW ALL THAT. Thankyou.
Phew. That's better.
Everyone is so kind. I know everyone wants to help and I appreciate that but helping is taking the boys out for hours ( thankyou mum and Leah) Helping is donning rubber gloves and scrubbing stinky paintwork ( Thankyou Julie, Nathan, Jake, Amy, Claire, Asi, Melissa)
Telling me how to do stuff, well it makes my brain sort of rebel and we need to be kind to my brain, it is weary and tired and having a tough enough job remembering which house I actually live in right now.
It is working on auto pilot, kicking in and just doing it all on it's own because it is so used to doing all this stuff. When it's given directions ( especially by someone who has maybe moved twice or so) it jibbers and farts and spews out the very thing it was about to tell me to do next. I might forget my name next or, heaven forbid, to put on my trousers before I go to Asda.
This is serious people, don't mess with this brain.
Talk about the weather ( which is glorious at the moment isn't it? I love this sunshine and no rain and the breeze? From heaven itself), tell me about your day, your holiday plans, anything you like but please, please don't tell me what to do or how to do it.
I love to live in my little world where I believe I am clever and strong and HEY! Can you believe how completely brilliant and organised and capable I am?
When I'm not patting unpregnant lady's bellies and congratulating them, I am probably calling the gas company or picking up forms from the 281,726 companies that need to know where I am living this week. I'm getting it done, I promise.
When we leave here on tuesday I will miss the crunchy gravel that makes that divine noise when we walk to the laundry room that I never tired of. I will miss the wilderness and little boys going on adventures and finding frogs.
I will miss sitting here when everyone is in bed, with just a tiny light on and the window in the roof above me open, the night breeze hitting my head and arms.
I will miss the slendiferous smell of new wood as I walk in the front door and I will miss the heavy, solid oak doors even though they chop off little boys' fingers.
I will really, oh really miss the feeling of absolute safety that the massive gates and noisy gravel give me. I have never felt this safe in many, many years.
When we move into the new house I will love living right next to the shops again. I will be in heaven to have the bedrooms upstairs and the living rooms downstairs. I won't miss the sound of Eli's tiny feet that sound as if they have lead boots on and are at least 12 sizes bigger than they really are, stomping across the wood floors above my head just 3 hours after I managed to fall asleep.
In all these moves, I have learned that home is where your heart is, it's what you make of where you live that makes it a good place to be. I am not in love with the new house yet. No matter, I am just hoping that I can feel safe there and that it will feel like home, even if we are going to be there just a short time.
We took over a load of boxes today and some of the front room bits and pieces and it is incredible how just putting a table and lamp in a room can change it's whole spirit.
When I first went into that house I could feel (as well as see) that there had not been any heart in that house for a really long time. No joy, no soul. Being there alone has been frightening for me, I have been on edge and nervous.
As more people came by, and especially after the group of great kids came over and they cleaned and laughed and had water fights, I began to feel the black oppressive feelings lift.
The smell is almost gone. The dirty smell went quickly, as soon as we got rid of the dirt ( funnily enough!) but I have this thing that makes me smell bad spirits. I don't mean ghosts, I mean bad feelings, misery, evil.
One room in particular smells terrible in this house, I gag when I walk into it. No-one else can smell it, it's not actually there, it's just me that can feel it and smell it. Luckily it is the room that we are using for storage and as we have been putting out boxes and pictures etc into it, the smell has been pushed out ( the rather smashing Lavender and chamomile 'plug in' air freshener helps too)
The bedrooms already feel peaceful, the rigs are down and the curtains are up, the boys have put some toys in there and I know that we will be fine sleeping in those rooms.
I am having trouble with the kitchen and the bathroom because they were so hideous and heave worthy that it's hard to believe the germs are dead. I am banking on the thought that once I have cooked something and the shower and bath have been used, I will feel more at ease about them. I am so stuffed if it doesn't happen!! I can't imagine getting away with popping over the road and buying a sandwich and then eating it in the car somehow!
So, 4 more sleeps in the barn. Tomorrow we are taking some time out, enjoying the morning here and then maybe heading over to the new house when it cools down a little, the back garden there is absolutely wonderful in the evening, around 6pm it is cool and shaded, so we thought we would get some work done then.
Seth loves the new house, he is so excited to live there, Isaac says that he is tired of loving and he might just go and get a flat like Jordan and just live there because he doesn't want anymore new houses. Just the same one for ever.... me too my Isaac, me too.

It's a gift.

I have had a splendid day today, super, excelled myself in all areas, if I may say so myself.
At first light we packed the car full of boxes and bags and stuff and boxes and also, children and drove the 1. point something mile to the new house, unloaded and we decided that H would stay and work in the garden ( again) Seth would stay with him and I would take the other 2 and just go away, somewhere nice, where boxes and smells and work of any kind would be a distant worry and not in my very grumpy and tired face.
Hoorah, off we go, feeling sort of free and a bit wicked and wasteful, have we really only 5 days to overcome the feeling of doom at leaving lovely posh barn home to reside in house that is now a bit lovely and clean and almost homely but still so filled with memories of how it was? Yes we do but times come upon us when we just have to say Bugger it all and have some fun or something.
Today was most certainly a bugger it day. Bliss.
Glorious sunshine and a couple of quid for lunch and off we set. Trago Mills, there is even a FACEBOOK club supporting Trago mills because I tell you it is lovely there, cheap household stuff and clothes and also a pets corner and eating area and kids rides. Just the job. A mere mile from the Barn and we set off first to see the animals, goats and ducks and pigs and guinea pigs.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone coming towards me with purpose, smiley face and most definitely, deliberately heading my way.....Oh look it's B! Lovely friend from single motherhood days, we were single together and close with my sister too, all 3 getting together with our collective children ( 8 all together) I married H and moved away and heard that B had got married and had another baby. Oh I was so happy to see her! She had a delicious blond haired toddler attached to her by a leash, I mean handy strap, to stop her escaping and being eaten by the goat or trampled by a holiday maker. Oh and she is having another baby, any day I think , she used to be a petite little thing and as so many of us tend to do had gained some weight over the years. Anyway she was pregnant and blooming and .......you know what happened next don't you? You just KNOW I asked her when her baby was due don't you?
Well I didn't, so there! Oh not me, oh no........ I twisted my face into as gleeful an expression as I could muster, eyebrows almost atop of my head, because I was SO genuinely thrilled for her , and then....THEN I put out my hand (and I am normally so untouchy feely, so unlikely to touch anyone if I can help it) but I put out my hand and as I screeched "HOW EXCITING!" as I RUBBED HER BELLY. I did, I really did.
She looked at me and she said... "Ha ha, nothing in there, I am just FAT"
Oh dear sweet powers that be, please open the ground and swallow me up.
I would NEVER, EVER presume anyone is pregnant if it was just a remote possibility, or if there merely a cute little pouch or something but this was honestly and truly so obviously at least a 7 month belly, so clearly full of almost cooked baby that I was compelled to show this lovely girl just how happy I was that she was about to be blessed again. Oh hell.
So, after I had blabbered on about my whole damn life for 30 minutes trying to pretend that I hadn't just done what I had just done ( oh but I really did it, oh dear.....) we went our separate ways and had some lunch and played for an hour or 3.
Back at the new house, H and Seth had worked miracles and things are beginning to look as though we could have a nice outside area any day now.
H has a hat, one that makes me just melt because he looks so fabulous and touching and ....well look



this is how that garden looked before....



and today.....



and we bought one of those metal bins to burn the garden cutting because it would have just been so hard to lug it all to the recycling place.....I hope we won't ruin the whole universe by burning this grass and stuff, we'll take our bottles to the recycling place and make up for it a bit but we are desperate to just get this done!

The front of the house was like this

it gives off such a gloomy feeling, all overgrown and dirty curtains at the windows, weeds, trash and misery.

Now its clean and cleared, still a bit unloved but definitely looking more loved and clean


We got home, weary, aching but brimming with feelings of satisfaction ( and mortification in my case) H had his bath, the 2 littler boys had theirs and when things have been going so well , you sometimes think you might be invincible and able to do things that really, you should never do. Like thinking 2 little boys could play unsupervised in the bath for 10 minutes......which they did, quite happily as it happens.
Oh hell.




And while I am posting so many pictures, here's one for you.



I am beginning to panic. Fortunately, I don't have the time.

Some things, well they are just so worth waiting for.....

This is the kind of day that this garden was made for, the laughing and fun was just fantastic, the sunshine was glorious, the food was good, the company was uplifting. I am so grateful for days like this. Jordan came with Mel and he made it such fun...he put dish soap on the slip and slide and he threw the kids down it...the laughing pictures are all after he had thrown them and they had shot off the end!

We are worn out and sunkissed, chilled out and happy. Can't get better than that can it?

Happy birthday my little stink Meister.

Seth Ammon is 7 today. I'm not sure what to think about that. 7 is sort of grown up, he smells grown up these days, especially on these humind days where he spends many hours playing basketball and bouncing on trampolines and not being keen to wash anything.

He is all boy.

He is going through a phase of super independance, he can do it himself. He can decide what to wear and how long to wear it and all 3 have decided that they no longer like pyjamas, that makes me very sad. I love clean and sweet smelling boys in cosy pyjamas. Tell me it's a phase and any evening now they will all decide that ack what were they thinking when the insist on wearing shorts to bed? Even though I have bathed and scrubbed and dried and handed them clean shorts, I still can't look at them and get all smooshy about how clean and comfy they are and all ready for bed, how cute! Can I admit that I actually used to get them ready for bed and make sure that should we all have need to be rescued in the night, the firemen would be impressed by how cute and clean and all matching pyjama'd we all were? ( when they were tiny babies I never EVER put them in a cot with even the tiniest bit of drool or sick on the sheet, because what if they died and someone took away all the bedding and saw that I was so slovenly as to not change a cot sheet? )

Not that I am mad or anything.

Now what? Burly firemen tut tutting about how that woman puts her kids to bed in clothes for heavens sake?! The shame, being the point of discussion and derision around the fire engine room or wherever they sit and have hot chocolate and discuss who the best dressed family were on this month's call outs.

Seth still has all but 2 of his little teeth, H was convinced that he would have more big teeth by the time he was 7, he sat at the table this evening and had Seth wiggle the top ones to make sure that they were really still very solid and not wobbly and likely to fall out overnight, tooth fairies can have a night off ( again) the stinky shoe fairy is going to have to come and throw away those running shoes though because they stink, really really STINK. Seth loves those shoes, he has taken to not wearing socks and then putting on these steaming shoes.

Did I used to kiss those feet? Willingly and with great delight? I think I did, I remember loving the smell of his little baby feet. Growing up is so sad, for the mummy anyway. Smells are everything to a mummy, that newborn head smell, silky little heads and necks and ears, breathe that deliciousness in, bottle it and love it and make it last as long as you can because slowly, the head starts to get that boy smell, that sticky sort of hot smell, I don't think Sophie ever got that smell, she always smelled a bit heavenly, 'til she started to smoke.

The little boy foot smell becomes something you avoid at all costs, frighteningly early. Seth's feet are toxic when he has been wearing those shoes. When he wakes up I am taking him to choose some new running shoes with air vents and leather and the stinky shoe fairy is coming to get those beloved foul things and taking them to a place far, far away.

I love the excitement that comes with little peoples' birthdays, such joy in mentioning how many days and sleeps until 'the day', at bed time saying " night night, see you when you're 7."

I love watching them and knowing that for the whole day they feel different. I can remember that feeling, how special you are because this is your day and you are SO much older than you were yesterday.

We are promised sunshine today, if it comes then we are doing the water party, friends and pools and hotdogs and cake ( which actually, I haven't even made because we didn't have enough eggs, who can remember eggs when cleaning 2 houses and ferrying boxes here there and everywhere? )

It is almost 2am, I had better go to bed because soon he will be up and be 7 and want all kinds of exciting things. Seven. Happy birthday Seth Meister.

It's a girl thing.

Umbrella
2 purses
sunscreen
babywipes
4 sanitary towels
3 bottles anti- bac hand gel ( me germaphobe? Tell me who told you such a tale!!)
cheque book
toner
moisturiser
wooden ruler ( curtains of course!!)
footfile ( like a mini cheese grater, is revolting but not as revolting as my feet)
elastoplast
bandage
anti itch cream
anti sting cream
after insect bite cream ( is there a theme here??)
nail clippers
styptic pencil
hairband
receipts ( 9)
prescription receipts ( 4)
medicine syringe
2 watches
3 packs of tissues
appointment cards ( 4)
passport photos
Passport ( why?!)
7 pens
3 packs medicine
tweezers
paperwork for holiday ( HOLIDAY in hotel, in sunshine......aaaaaaaaaah.)
phone bill ( paid thankyouverymuch)
new mobile phone bumph
small key for who knows what but will probably never throw it away because you never know, I might need it.
little handy book/keyring thingy for writing phone numbers that I forget I have and have never used, not so handy is it?
notebook
nappy pin
Crumbs.

In my backpack that I lug around wherever I go. It has seemed so heavy lately.....hmmmmmmmm, that'll be why!
HAd my camera but didn't take pictures of my beautiful girl because we were dashing about. Isaac cried when she went to go back to Jordan's flat...so he went with her for 3 hours. THREE HOURS! By choice. T'was a miracle and she smiled and smiled, was so happt that he wanted HER and not me and was just divine. More later and maybe even pictures tomorrow. I promise

Lottery shmottery.

All over the place today, my head that is, flip flopping from one thought to another. Bad weather is never good for me, makes me sink into a pit of dreary thoughts and feelings of no hope. Oh my, the rain, will never be sunny again. life is over, there is no hope......blargh!
Actually sundays make me feel like that a bit too, how awful to admit that the Lord's day is anything but uplifting and joyful.
I am restless and so keen to get on with the move, to get in and make that house home.
Why though? I am beginning to feel that I might dig in my heels and just stay there, squat, take on the world and tell the powers to be that they better get me a house or I am locking the doors and waiting to be thrown out. How's that sound to you? Can you picture it? I might get into the papers as the woman who finally snapped. A family photograph with me looking more than slightly insane, hair madder than Mary's, eyes staring ahead in a hopeless gaze, pitchfork ( or at the very least a broom handle) in hand ready to fight off the ne'er do wells intent on making me pack another box and haul myself to another home for sale, all the while surrounded by my concerned looking family. I dream ( in a nightmarish kind of way) about cleaning stoves. I have those dreams many times a night where I am falling off a step ladder...WHOOP jump, awake, ahhh not real, am safe in bed, ahhhh zzzzzzzzzzz WHOOP.....hell's teeth go back to sleep!
This week we are going to clean the carpets and make them smell beautiful ( and look nicer, of course) then we will start taking over our many worldy possessions and begin, again, the task of setting them out to make the house a home. I quite like doing that but the novelty might be wearing off.
I don't know if it helps me having so many people tell me how hard they know this is for me, hearing that this is REALLY unfair of our landlady and that really she is getting one hell of a deal with our working on her houses and selling them. It helps in that I find myself explaining that although it is hard, it's not the worst thing I could be facing, I convince myself that this is OK. This time though, it is not looking OK, the phone company want a huge amount of money to connect the new house, if we don't pay it, no phone which isn't the end of the world, no internet which would be pretty damn close to it. It doesn't help in that when you hear it so many times, you begin to believe it and well..what can we do?
3 months is not long enough to be handing over large amounts of money, it is way too long to go without internet and a phone. Can we stay there longer? Who knows? I am tempted to tell the landlady that we will pass on the long term let because I HATE THAT HOUSE! Also, then we can say that we will just risk staying in the house until it sells....with our luck that would mean an extra week, could mean much longer.
I wish my head would just allow me to worry about the next 2 days and just let the rest go, who knows what will happen in a month, year, lifetime?
I bought a lottery ticket this week, that's how desperate I am. Didn't win of course because, well, of course.
I would be terrified if I DID win, but if I could get a wish, it would just be for a house that I can stay in, 3 bedrooms and a garden, right here. A set of keys that does not have a duplicate copy in some landlords pocket.
I am on the edge, I really am, I had this weird heart thing last night where honest to goodness, it felt as though I had 2 hearts in my chest, the regular
de- dum , beat and in the middle an extra fuddump, de- fuddump-dum.
Any cardiologists reading this? Diagnose me please, make me well. Any shrinks reading? I wouldn't bother, there is no hope.
My girl is in town, Dan called to say she was coming and when I didn't hear from her, I called Jordan who says she is here and that she looks beautiful, also that 'she even speaks differently' I will see her tomorrow and take some pictures and enjoy some time with her. She has 2 days off, she told Dan that she was afraid to come down because she felt that her life was so different now, that she actually has a life....I hope that she can have fun here and have many people tell her how great this new life is for her, that they don't try and talk her into coming back. I am so afraid all the time, of everything. If only I could just enjoy the good when it is here.
I feel as though my life is one big " I wish". PPPPTTTTTTTHHHHHHHH. Where's that damn Genie?

And the rain came down...

And down and again, the rain, well it fell and kept falling and there was not even a glimmer of sunshine. I found myself so unacceptably angry about it, losing your home? Oh well, there will be a reason and it will turn out for the best.
Disabled child? What a blessing, how lucky to have this special child to grace our lives and teach us so much.
Huge things, we can get through it and praise the Lord.
The rain, made me very, very cross. Look, we have at church about 45 children, they are, it has to be said, exceptional children, on sundays you can hear a pin drop in the room because these children have such respect, such reverence that we are in awe of them. They listen, they sing, they sit, the respond, they are obedient and glorious.
3 times a year we hold fun days for them, usually we have them with a theme and they have fun ( imagine) and learn something . This fun day was planned to be just fun, real FUN, a blast, messy and loud, a thankyou to them for just being so incredible.
All we asked for was 3 hours of sunshine, such an easy request for the Lord to grant. Yet, it rained and it rained so hard that we couldn't ignore it and go ahead anyway. Plan B was to meet at the church and have some games ( sigh, yawn) so that's what we did, the kids had a blast and although they were a bit sad that the real plans were thwarted they still threw themselves into the B plan with gusto and very loud echoey voices.
I was hard put to join in because something else came along to add to my grouchiness, I stayed in the background while Adele made all the fun happen. I took pictures though, and prepared the food.
We have glorious sunshine forecast for this next week ( naturally) and so we have kept the pools filled and hopefully, on wednesday, when Seth turns 7, we shall have a smaller version of the water day. Wonder if the forecast will actually be correct when we want it to be? Anyone want to bet?

On your marks, get set.......

I have just been to check on the boys, 11pm, everyone of them is FULLY DRESSED in bed, fast asleep. They are so excited for tomorrow they obviously want to just leap out of bed and be ready. Jeans, shirts, socks that is what being 4, 6 and nearly 7 is all about.
The garden is ready, 3 pools, waterbombs, water pistols, slip and slide, sprinklers ready, hot dogs, chips, chocolate cake.
The weather forecast......heavy rain. ARGH! Although why would it matter if they are all just going to get wet anyway right?
I believe in miracles and am convinced that forecast be damned, it WILL be sunny, if only from 10 -12.30 we will have SUNSHINE and a garden full of happy children.
Watch this space.

These are a few of my favourite things.......

I am eternally grateful that I gain such enormous joy from the littlest things, my day has been full of joyful moments today.
The house, the new house , yes the new house, no longer the next house, the new one, the gleaming, fresh, sanitary, sparkling, shiny, lustrous, fresh smelling, new house is looking incredible. It smells good too.
Ahem.......I PEED on THE toilet.
Yes I did, I sort of had to hum while I did it, twitching my fingers and banishing all pictures of how it used to look, I also made my sister go first but I did it, all is well, I can live there now.
In fact, when I went back alone this evening, I wanted to live there, to sit in the summer's evening with my brilliant white net curtains billowing in the breeze.
This evening, I had several young people from church come and help and they really DID help, they scrubbed the kitchen cupboards out and cleaned a huge fridge that was so filthy, now it is gleaming and ready to be filled with cooked chicken, cheese strings and fruit juice.
They worked in the garden and dismantled a pool that was there. They cleaned the last window that I couldn't reach and hung a beautiful new curtain for me. They moved a rotten freezer and replaced light bulbs.
We are almost ready to start taking things over there.
H. is going to clean the carpets because stains, fluffy ones and nasty ones, other peoples' stains, ewwwwwwwww.
Actually the thing is, when someone is dirty and they don't clean, it is pretty exciting when someone else comes along and gives it all a good scrubbing because under the filth, it's all brand new, not worn out and threadbare. The carpets are quite good ones, now they have been vacuumed a few times they look pretty nice, when they have been cleaned and smell of kirby shampoo and cleanness, it will be a joy to walk on them.
I spoke to the landlady today, she said she was going over there early tomorrow morning, I wish I could be a fly on the wall because it is unrecognisable to the place she last saw. She said she is taking someone with her and had explained that the house was trashed and filthy.....not anymore it's not. I wonder who she is taking, what's the betting that it's an estate agent to value it and put it up for sale? That seems likely doesn't it?
My sister called this evening to say that her husband ( a landscaper) has a client who owns 25 properties, she is going to ask if he has any houses in our town....oh imagine if we can get a house, with a garden, for long term let.......that will be clean when we move in......oh sweet dreams.
I still haven't taken any pictures, somehow I can't. My landlady knows that I always take before and after pictures so I shan't tell her that I haven't and I am beginning to wish that I had, because words will never describe just how bad that house was.
I think I will wait until we are in, and it looks like home. That seems like the best plan right now. 12 days, we move in 12 days and not a thing is packed yet, actually it is because we didn't unpack most of our stuff when we moved here, hoorah! We won't unpack it this time either, all ready for 3 months time when we do this all over again. When we move out I am not even going to vacuum the next house ( I mean the one we are moving into in 12 days) if we move in and never clean or vacuum before we move out, it will still be 100% cleaner than when we got the keys.
We have done all the cleaning we are doing for this landlady.....twice over.
I hope I can sleep tonight, I am charged up and have been so busy all day that it may take a while to relax and wind down. I had a hot bath and washed my hair as soon as I walked in the door at 9.30 this evening. We were all over there this morning, H has worked so hard outside, the garden will be lovely and great for the boys. We came back at 1pm, all had a nap and then I went back this afternoon and evening. What a blessing to have H and know that I can do these things, the way I want to do them and not have to worry about home or the boys, to know that I will get home and find everything as I would like it, with clean happy boys and H waiting for me. I would feel enormous frustration if I had to be at home while H went out and I had to stay at home. Control freak, that's me!
H is working over here getting ready for saturday, we are ( can you believe how stupid we can be??) hosting a water fun day for a huge group of kids...I think about 30.
3 Pools, from huge to baby, water slides, water bombs, water pistols, hot dogs, ice lollies and FUN. So he is getting this garden ready.....nothing like keeping busy to stop you going mad is there???? PLEASE let it be sunny on saturday.
I am off to lie down and enjoy the feeling of satisfaction that comes from having achieved so much. I shall think of my curtains blowing in that summer breeze, of sweet smelling floors and new beginnings.
It's the little things that make life bearable. Glorious even.

Another day, another holler.

I am busy. So busy. But we are getting there.
I had a friend come to the next house to help clean yesterday and she said " oh, it's not too bad" which was like a big old pat on the back for me because it told me that I must have made huge strides in the filth and grime that is our next home.
I keep thinking about how well we are doing and then I remember that we have to pack this one and clean this one and get everything over to the next one and that then, in 3 months we will have to do it all again and I. am. so. tired.
I have been so touched by the calls offering help though, hard to accept but I am saying yes and inviting people to scrub and wash and laugh and help.
The shower is all gleaming and shiny, I thought we may have to smash those tiles and redo it, I thought I might have to ditch that stove but no, my elbow grease has worked marvels and I can almost imagine taking a shower and having a wee in that bathroom....but not yet!
Every day I bleach the toilet again and spray it with anti-bacterial spray and tell myself how clean it is, my mind won't let go of how filthy it was though...I have to either get over that or accept that I will have to squat behind a tree in the garden because in 2 weeks time that will be our home. We won't be here in this lovely airy and clean house anymore, once again my heart aches a bit ( literally, ouch, chest pains, scary things)
I am overwhelmed with so many emotions, mostly cross ones and sad ones, some thankful ones and many resigned ones, I think there may be the odd hopeful one hidden in there somewhere.
I stopped the new meds, I know it has only been a week but the sweating, oh that damn sweating, I can't bear it and as I stood and walked across the room yesterday and I dripped with sweat and my hair was stuck to my head I remembered that this was the very medication that I have already been weaned from because of the awful side effects. Then they put me on the one that sort of worked but still made me sweat. No more. I have to be able to work out a way to be well without putting my body through this misery.
I absolutely am all for medication that helps, when it makes you feel just as ill with the side effects, well for heaven's sake, what is the point?
Day by dad seems to be the way to go, just get through one day at a time, fixing what needs to be fixed, enjoying what needs to be enjoyed and then get up and do it all over again the next day.
Sophie is doing well, we say that quietly and enjoy every happy phone call. Dan is splendid, Jordan is happy, Seth is nearly 7, Isaac is chatty, Elijah is a divine whirling mass of sparkle, flip fops and noise, H is steady and gentle....things aren't at all terrible. Just busy.
My sister and her husband just finished building a house, all by themselves...wanna see it?



would you just look at that beauty. I know they must feel enormous satisfaction, every stone and inch of plaster done by the sweat of their own brows...amazing and I am thrilled for them. I am sure that I could never build my own home, I am way too impatient, I want it all right there, where I can see it and touch it and live in it right now!
They live in Utah, so although I am pleased for them there is no envy because I would rather live here in a rented home than have a mansion anywhere else. I love where I am, I belong here and couldn't leave again.
Jane is coming home next month, I haven't seen her or those little girlies since last march when dad died, I miss her and can't wait to see her again.
So, another day done, tomorrow we start all over again. Lucky us.

Yo! ( or something cool like that)

oh and you know how back in the day, it was laughable to cut off heads in photographs, well nowadays it is a bit cool and arty farty.







( I should tell you that I really and truly DID want his head in it though.)

Not cool but somehow captures everything these boys are.....which makes it kind of cool, hey, cooooool.

And from my Father.....

From my dad, I inherited, curly hair, gappy teeth, a propensity to chubbiness, thriftiness and an ability ( second to none) to see humour when others might weep.
From my mother I fall heir to a creative flair, sensitivity, generosity and the most impressive gag reflex.
I was walking behind a lady and her rather glorious golden retriever when pregnant with Daniel. I was admiring how splendid this creature was when he lifted his tail and I saw just a glimpse of his anus. I tell you I gagged and heaved until I popped some blood vessels, right the way through town, long after the dog and it's owner had left my eye's view.
I kept thinking I had myself under control when I would remember having seen the dogs bum hole and off I went again, until I wept with exhaustion from heaving. I get that from my mum.
She has been known to gag at the mention of a name. When the first one left and for several years afterwards, if she would have cause to mention him she would say ( for example) " Are the children with ... hurerrrrrrrrrrp this weekend?" just couldn't say his name, the thought of him made her so sick that she would retch.

At least it takes a dogs arse to make me heave, lordie!

Anyway, this evening, after a long, hard, hot day, I drove over to the next house because yesterday, I poured 2 bottles of oven cleaner over the stove and put the trays and shelves to soak, I had to go and check that and see if it would need another application ( YES! of course.)
I got there and charged the gas card so I could have some hot water, went upstairs to check the progress of the black gunge on the shower walls ( none, it is sticking with impressive revoltingness) At least I found the switch for the shower and it now works, even if I can never imagine getting into that cubicle naked because ewwwwwww.
I looked at the toilet that yesterday I CLEANED. I did it, this lavatory had not one bit of white showing, that's all I will say, it was very, very bad and I faced my demons and cleaned that thing until it shone ( and that earned me the tightest hug and a face stroke from H because it was a major deal, MAJOR.)
As I walked around the house I was talking to myself and telling myself that I was tired and that coming over there when I was so tired was probably a bad idea and , hmmmmmm am so emotional today and why do I feel so glum?
I called mum and said that I was at the house and said that she could come and see it if she so fancied.

I was peering through the clouded ( filthy) windows at the front of the house, whilst pulling on my industrial strength gloves when she arrived.

"HELLO!!!!! You have to come round the back because I only have the back door key!!" said I. So she did.

H worked so hard yesterday in the garden and cleared a whole load of hedgerow, clipped and cleared and chopped and piled, so the back is beginning to look as though, in about 3 broken backs time, it will be lovely...good first impression.
The next 2 rooms are swept and have lovely pretend wooden floors, easy to clean and looking tidy, if not clean.
Then the kitchen, which is cleared but not clean, oh no, certainly not clean, even the spotlights on the ceiling are encrusted with grease. The stove? Yeah, you can imagine.
So.......my mum is here, hoorah!
"Oh!" she exclaimed " I love it.... HURERRRRRRRRRRRRRP! Oh Helen it is going to be the most fantastic house HURERRRRRRRRRRRP! Look at this kitchen it will be ( glanced at stove) HUREERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP! *gasp* HURERRRRRRRRRRRRP"
She wandered all through the house and she marvelled and gagged and exclaimed and all the while, every time she looked at the carpet, or the stained walls or the shower she HURERRRRRRRRRRRRRPED until her eyes watered and that, well that is when my dad came to me and it was just the very best thing that could have happened because even 3 hours later I am wiping my eyes and snorting because it was just so gloriously funny.

She so meant every "ooh and ahhhh and lovely!" but that gag just couldn't keep itself in, I knew that she was seeing just how grand this house can be when we have shovelled the shit and polished the windows, but land sakes, there is really no avoiding just how begrimed and squalid it is right now.

Thanks my dad and always thank you my mum because without you I wouldn't be me and actually, now I have realised that the glum and gloomy feeling I have is a lot to do with the new medicines, that always make you feel worse before they make you feel better, I rather like me.
I needed that laugh.

So Isaac.

Hey, my birthday...CHEERS!



You lookin' at me? Oh alright then but be quick......be quick! Because, I hate this whole looking at me thing, cake or not.....



In fact....my head is going to implode at the looking at me thing....



right, that's it...too long, you just took too long, I have to go now.....no, right now...



Ok, blow the candles, I can do that...ready? READY?



That's it, I am done with the looking at me and singing to me and all that being the centre of attention stuff, go away. Do not look at me anymore. I am done.



I love you my Isaac.

Giving you all the finger.

*~GASP~* Why? what did we do? Has she finally lost that tiny bit of decorum she was clinging to?
She may well have......but I mean Seth's finger. In all it's crispy glory.
The hospital is very pleased with his finger. ( In fact, you should probably know that the hospital could care less, as it is an inanimate object, totally lacking in emotion, the consultant at the hospital however is thrilled with Seth's finer, it just seemed quicker to say the hospital until that terribly proper part of me felt compelled to explain in full what I actually meant.)
The consultant said we should leave it uncovered when Seth is inside. I would hazard a guess that he hasn't a 6 year old boy of his own. Seth is a) a bit freaked when he is faced with this finger...



and b).....it is crispy and scabby and little boys of 6 are known to want to pick and poke at crispy and scabby things.

So we cover it up after about 10-20 minutes ( as long as I can stand to listen to the " how many more minutes, can we cover it up again yet" repetitions)
On first glance it looks truly horrible



but actually, when you really look closely ( ewwwwww) it is possible to see how it will heal. He is fascinated by the fact that it is now the same size as his little finger and then he gets shuddery and wants not to see it anymore please.

I understand that because I keep making myself look at it very closely and every time I do my lower body goes into twittering shivers. What IS that? When we see something painful or hear a tale of some woman giving birth, without any pain relief, to a 12lb 4oz baby, everything from the pubic bone down gets the heebie jeebies?

We are all in a state of disbelief because we have had several days without rain. Oh joy.

Isaac is 6 today, so for 12 days I have 2 six year old boys in my house.
Happy birthday beautiful Isaac, I am so glad that you stopped screaming. Those first 5 1/2 months were tough ones but you are so worth it.
You are my heart and soul boy, you filled my heart from the day you were born and somehow you have made it grow. I love knowing what is inside your head, I love that of all my children, you are the most like me. My soul recognises yours and I am beyond happy to be your mum.
I wouldn't change a thing about you ( except the putting on socks thing, I hate the putting on socks thing because those seams? The devil invented sock seams and he laughs every day when we put Isaac's socks on and THE SEAMS! THEY ARE TWISTED AND CUTTING INTO HIS FEET! FIX IT! NOW!)




There seems to be eternity in those eyes, all the things he can't say are right there to be read and understood and only the very luckiest of people can see the deepest thoughts.
I adore this boy. What did I do to deserve him? Something very, very right I presume.

So, not so bad. Or is it?

We got the keys to the next house. ( is it me or are just those 2 words frightening all on their own? Next. House. simple words yet holding so much meaning and work and STRESS and moving and cleaning and .......) We went and had a good old wander around without anyone else there.

So, good that it isn't as filthy as I first saw, painted magnolia and not too many dints and holes.

Bad that it is still filthy.

Good that it isn't so huge that it will take way too much to run.
Bad that the bedrooms are smaller than I am used to and our bed is BIG and COMFY and nothing, absolutely nothing will make me get a smaller bed. We may have our bed scrunched in the bedroom without anything else, or it will be under a window ( good in summer, can cope with that).

Good that, um.........hmmmmmm, er, let me see.......

Bad that the cooker has probably never been cleaned and has been used a LOT to cook saucy and dribbling and oozing and black things. Also is very close to the floor, in fact when you open the door, it rests on the floor, how extraordinary and stupid.

Very bad that the shower seems not to work and bizarre in its similarity to the cooker in that it appears to have many dribbley, oozing and black things in it, black is the colour scheme for kitchen and bathroom in a dirty, slimy sort of way.

You know ( and a whine coming here, brace yourselves, I am weeping, it could get depressing) I get moments where looking on the bright side is so bloody hard.
I CAN see the potential this house has and if we were moving there forever, if it was ours or long term, I would scarcely blink at the work that is ahead of us but we will be there just long enough to do the work for someone else and then we have to move to a house that I would never choose in a million years. Another house that is being trashed by the madman that lives there right now. That will need work, that we will inevitably have to do because we have no choice.
We walked around and enthused to the boys and I won't lie, I did see the good and it has a pretty nice feel to it, the cleaning and the scrubbing will be a bugger but we can get help and it will be done before we move in.
Repairs have been made in true our landlady fashion, walloping lumps of wood stuck over gaping holes in doors, a bit of a wipe over with some cheap paint, or not, and we're good to go.
I want, for once in my life, to feel worth something.
When we moved here I felt that.
Look at me!!
I can have something nice and even better than nice.
12 days. That's how long that lasted and it cost us £1.000 to move here, has cost a lot to live here but it has been worth every penny, just to have the feeling that we are indeed deserving of the niceties of life.
I am ill again and that makes me sad. Being sad makes me sad. I have medicines to take and we hope that I can feel better and be able to deal with the enormous load that I feel I am having to bear right now.
I am so proud of Sophie, it is such early days and she is doing so well. The proof that she is doing well is tough for me though. For example...today she called and was steaming mad.

" I HAVE HAD IT. ENOUGH.
IWANNASCREAMINHERFACEFUCKYOU!ANDGETTHEHELLOUTOFHERE...
but then, I would get the sack."

CONSEQUENCES, she GETS IT! She is learning but my poor heart when my ears here that screaming and ranting and temper. She was tired and had been working a long day, her immediate boss had taken her back to some rooms to show her what she hadn't done ( uh oh).

~*breathe in*~
I explained that if she were to walk into a room and think to herself " if this was my room , if I had just arrived for a stay and paid £90 for a night, what would I want it to be like?" and then make the room look like that. To try and remember that these people were paying a considerable sum to stay there and that every one of them wanted to walk into a room and be wowed. If the free shampoo is missing, if the bin doesn't have a bag in it.....well it does matter to that guest.
I wonder if she heard me. I called her back later and she was happier.
~*exhale*~

My blood pressure is 135/115, my skin is one big itching welt, with a few blisters thrown in.
I have been having what the Dr thinks are Esophageal spasms. Not fun, sudden, tight pains in my chest that make me retch and my head goes light ( if only it would work on my arse and hips) my hands go numb and when that happens at 70 miles per hour on a motorway......bit scary really. She ( my doctor) held my hands today and scooted her chair so that her knees were touching mine and she said, " Please, will you please look after yourself" and you know, I really would, except when should I do that? What can I put down, so that I can be kind to myself and make me all better? It isn't as though I don't want to look after myself. I really do, but if I let one thing go, we could have that domino effect and then life would really be a barrel of laughs.
I did book the holiday ( did I tell you that? I would go and check but really......can't be bothered) so I did, and I paid everything stupid girl quoted me, trouble is she did her sums all wrong and darn it if she shouldn't have said £3265 plus insurance ( £228) not £2450. I still booked it because it is the one single thing that is keeping me this side of plucking my hair out with clenched fingers and humming with my lips pinched together.
So now I have to find that extra £1043, minus insurance ( £228) because I paid that ( Happy birthday H) and pay back mum, which is fine, I can do it and don't tell too many people, but I already squirreled some of that way already. It will all be paid and paid back, I hope by the middle of October. It will be very hard but somehow, I think that will make the holiday even more glorious.
Lets face it, by the time we have moved again, twice, faced whatever the next 4 months has to throw at us, the very idea of 3 weeks of sunshine, having my bed made every day, no cooking, no dull shopping for bread and toilet paper....the holiday will be glorious. I absolutely plan on holding my doctors hand and having her understand how terrified I am of flying and watching her print off a script for lovely, mellowing, don't give a monkeys nuts drugs, that I will hug and not share and take 30 minutes before we board. Fly me.

Oh, I have stopped weeping by the way, just in case you were worrying, I have cleaned my glasses that were spotty from tears and am feeling fuzzy and relaxed ( medicine, prescribed and quite marvellous, even itching has stopped. H and I have our meds in a plastic ice cream tub, up high in a cupboard even Eli the ape can't reach. I told him with not a little pride that if I am prescribed one more drug, I shall need my very own ice cream tub.)
Ha. Giddy heights at the age of 45.
At least I don't have one of those weekly meds deals that you have to sit and dole all your tablets into so you don't forget any ( H does, but he is so much older than me, 48 today, although he says he doesn't go in for all that birthday malarky anymore, which is handy because he means it, as long as he has a nice dinner he is birthdayed and happy, ideal especially as Isaac is 6 tomorrow, we saved all our singing and cards for him. Hooray.)
I think the new tablets might be a good thing, I called the boys little shits yesterday and said if they stood on the bloody table once more I would have to break their legs.
Not good in itself, the fact that they looked at me as if I was a perfidious headcase and carried on about their business ( standing on the table and making fart noises) made me realise that perhaps I have been making too many idle threats lately and should work on getting with some programme or other ( nanny 911 or super nanny? who can tell, much of a muchness in my honest opinion, wonder what Nanny Deb would make of me and my empty threats of extreme violence? Jo from super nanny would, I strongly suspect, sit me in a corner, get down on my level and tell me that this is not asseptable behaviour, to which I would have to reply that when she had actually given birth to 6 kids, stayed at home with them 24 hours a day for 22 years, without ever tasting an alcoholic drink and then learned to say ACCEPTABLE, instead of asseptable I might listen to her so shut up. Thankyou. )

Oh blast, forgot to have some toast with tablets, now feel a bit sick and heartburny. Always something to spoil the fun.
Still, not so bad after all. Is it?

Show and tell.

So....she is bright eyed and sweet, happy and calm. Sophie...calm.
I can't quite think what to say about the day, part of me just wants to leave it at this, because I am so overwhelmed by the feelings I have I am befuddled. The other part ( that will win I suspect) wants to write every detail, from the inevitable getting lost ( and HOW well I did it today) and the emotions that invokes. I cannot find the getting lost thing funny. It is by far the most terrifying thing for me, that feeling of knowing that somehow you are close to where you need to be but having NO idea how to get there, of being so hopelessly out of depth that every nerve screams. I left Sophie at 4pm, at 5.30 I was still about a mile away from her, having driven an embarrassing amount of miles (and in my defense, this city is the devils own for getting in and out of, every bloody road is one way, add to that some horrific diversions and I was well and truly stuffed. ) I looked over at Eli, who had crashed and slept withing minutes of us leaving the car park and I lost it.
Seeing my girl look so clean and bright, hearing her tell me about her new life and new people, seeing her revoltingly perfect room , watching her unpack all her earthly goods and seeing real joy on her face, taking her shopping and for lunch and hearing her say "thankyou for this mum", having her hug me so tight and kiss me..then seeing this little boy who has absolute faith and trust in ME, well, it was all too much to take in.
I can't even get out of a city center but these people believe I know it all and trust that whatever happens I will make it all OK. I am so winging it, stumbling along and somehow getting it right sometimes.
Elijah sang, all the way there and all the way home, 243 miles of singing and at his request I sang to. "thing nat thong bout a lady eating a fly"
so I did, then " there was an old lady who swallowed a spider, who wiggling and wriggled and TICKLED inside her"
" Did she find nat thpider in a darden?"
How do these little minds work? I was singing and naturally assumed that he knows its a song and just is as it is...... yet quite obviously, to him, it is a tale.....imagine a woman eating a fly ( I don't know why! Perhaps she'll DIE!)
and then a spider, hmmm wonder if she found that in the garden?? I breathed this boy in today.
He still has his obsession for shoes and necklaces and all things girlie. Today we found, not only a necklace acceptable ( sort of) for a boy but if it wasn't a HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL ONE! 2 actually, in a set.


They so ARE boys necklaces!!

These though, are definitely NOT boys flip flops.....



and yes, he IS wearing them out in the street because his need is strong, I am trying to let him get it out of his system, a small part of me worries that I am feeding it, not that it matters because even if I were to say no more, wherever we go people are providing him with clip clop shoes and spangly necklaces, it is a hopeless cause, he is hooked. I just hope, that when he is 25 and a drag queen, he is a rich and successful one and remembers from whence he came.

I think maybe, I have managed to hit a mid way mark. Too tired to share the whole gammut of my emotions, too big a show off to just shut up .... I am relieved to have made it home. More than happy to have seen my girl child and enjoyed spending time with her.
Another day, we did it.

I wish I had some music.

I was going to go to bed early tonight....all the best laid plans, my legs are twitching, they have been great for months and tonight they are jumping all over the place, just as well I am alone up here, I get so grumpy when my legs do this, it hurts and feels so bad, I am not good company. Also the itching, the whole body, welting hot itching is out of control, also ( so many alsos) the mosquito bites, MORE ITCHING! Not funny!
I wanted to get plenty of sleep because tomorrow I am going to see my girl.
All the way to Bath to visit her and see how she is, see if her eyes are shining again and take her boxes and bags of stuff, girlie stuff and all the nonsense that 18 year old girls need to survive. All that and a fridge.
She hates the food she is given at the hotel, all that is good for her, these past weeks have changed her, she is different in many ways....the routine is helping her and having to be good day and night is helping. I have had a few calls where she speaks in one sentence, hardly gathering breath, but somehow she runs out of steam. I don't get worked up, don't feel as though my head will explode. ( although when she howled " I WANT TO COME HOME!" I felt a cold prickly seat forming on my neck)
Today she was crying and getting mad and I just said " and you are yelling at me because??" I just spoke to her calmly and when she couldn't listen because she was way too far down the hysterics road, her credit ran out, the phone cut out and I left it. Didn't call back ( actually my phone was out of credit too and I wasn't at home to call back) she called an hour or so later and said sorry, told me how she had resolved the issues she had been mad about. She is learning and growing up. It is also enormously reassuring that she calls me and feels safe enough to do the wailing and
"OHMYGODWHATCANIDOANDITISALLCRAPANDYOUMUSTFIXITFORME" thing. She trusts me.
She has spoken about things she can do next year, good things, happy things, I don't think I have ever heard Sophie talk about the things she can do. Always we have heard how it's OK for everyone else, she'll never do it, have it, enjoy it etc. She seems to have never had any hope, right now she is beginning to feel that and also, when things don't go right, she is sticking it out. HUGE, this is just HUGE!
So tomorrow I am driving to see her, taking her shopping to get some bits and pieces to last until she is paid ( 10 days bless her, how she has managed this long is amazing, she is doing so WELL!)
I thought maybe Jordan was coming with me but so far he hasn't called....I might have to do this on my own. Oh dear....in a strange way that thought excites me, me and an open road, no talking, no noise.....no sense of direction, could end up as a magical mystery tour, North wales here we come.
Why am I so hopeless when it comes to finding places? It used to be funny but the novelty wore off when petrol got so expensive! When a trip would already cost £50 and then ends up costing an extra £10 because I get so bloody hopelessly lost, no-one is laughing!
I so wish I had music in my car, 2 hours in a rattley old rust bucket can make your ears whistle, mayhaps I shall hear a tune in the whistling and count my many blessings etc.
I will take pictures because I really think she is going to look beautiful again. I hope. Please.
On a totally different tack...Isaac is being a bit amazing at the moment. Today he actually asked to go in someones car, without me. He asked and he went! Also, mums new house? He loves it, he was there and stayed without me, he was playing and had such fun, he never does that, he usually stays right where I am. Yesterday at church he actually went up to the front and joined in a singing game. He is fantastic. In 3 days he will be six. So grown up, my dearest silent boy is growing and changing, I miss that little boy who spoke in Du buh language and was stuck to my legs all day, is that terribly wrong?
I have to go to bed, I am soooooo tired, I have slept more this week than I have in years, heaven. Bring it on.

Spare shrink anyone? *Edited in the cold light of day.

Every now and then I have something on my mind that I LONG to get out, that is making my brain itch and I feel sure would settle if I could just write about it. When I was having therapy ( how frightfully modern) I was often struck by how clever it all was, here I was sitting in a chair surrounded by pretty things, opposite a lady who said hardly anything at all, an hour at a time and would come away with a whole slew of questions and worries answered. How did that happen when she didn't ever say anything but ' hmmmm, why was that do you think?' or ' so, how did that make you feel?'
There were times when I felt something akin to violence at her inability or reluctance to ever say ' Helen, this is how it is, if you do this / say that / go there, all your worries will be over.'
How great would THAT be if they actually told us what to do and think and say?
Bloody great that's how great that'd be.
Therapists and councillors and shrinks never do that though. Bummer.
What happens is, they somehow teach you that the answers are already there. What we need to do is think it through and work out where to go for ourselves. That's both irritating and empowering.
So, occasionally I have things that need working out and my blog used to be the place to come. Not anymore. I still love my blog and will still write here about the everyday happenings that are worth remembering. Like Seth saying to his cousins baby....." hey, you've got a Bogey ( booger)... oh no you haven't, I thought it was a Bogey, but it snot" Which is hysterical and worthy of note.
The deep and meaningful stuff though, I don't feel I can write here anymore because way too many people I know read it. Don't go. I love you reading and commenting, I love being at church or out and about and having people tell me that they read my blog.
2 of my children now have access to this and that definitely makes me censor what I write, my sister reads and tells my mum, and while all that feeds my show offy nature and encourages me to embellish and exaggerate the minutiae of my dull existence, it most definitely stops me from writing a whole bunch of secrets and woes. That leaves me in a quandary because I no longer have the marvellous Jan to sit opposite and not tell me what to do anymore, I can't sit and talk at her for an hour a week and come away with all the answers that were there all along and suddenly became apparent without her saying a word.
I can't tell Jan and I can't spew it all out here and work it all out. What to do, what to do??? I am going to start a new blog, you might see a new one attached to this one ( like the diet one that worked so well until I stopped it and gained all the weight back, that is still there telling me how many days it is since I was nice to myself. )
You might see it, but will never read it. Please don't ask. I will be the only person to ever read it, which means it will be REALLY JUICY and I bet you would all love it. Sorry.
It won't take away from this one much. Sometimes I might write it and be all worn out and wordless and so this one might get left unwritten, I will try to post a nice picture if that is ever the case. Truth is though that there is considerably more ho-hum stuff than juicy secrets so the chances are, you might not miss much at all. I just wanted to explain why you might see a new blog and wonder why you haven't been invited, that'll be why.
If you ever chance to knock at the door and beg 'Let me in, let me in' the reply will be a most definite
'Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin'
I need me somewhere to go where I can purge my soul, say whatever is in this head of mine and feel safe in the knowledge that there won't be someone staring at me at church in absolute mortification because good heavens, who'd have thought she had THAT on her mind.
I hate the thought of people I love worrying and thinking they have to fix me or help or make it all better when they can't.
There are times when I am so mad at H, for just being H that I long to vent, if I do that and then people that know and love him see it...they will remember what I said ( usually in a hormone induced rage) and hold it against him, long after I worked through it and forgot I ever was mad at him.
I think that maybe, I might need Jan back. My head is having a hard time lately and there's nowhere to turn anymore. For now I will try and write it all out and see if that helps.
It's almost funny that even though I am so huge, there isn't enough of me to go around. The bigger I get, the smaller I feel. The more of me there is to see, the less I have to give. I am tired and right now don't seem to be able to recharge the old batteries. December seems to far away and although I am so excited to think we have a HOLIDAY, there is so much to do before then. Like move house TWICE, and finish H's citizenship papers, go to bed and wake up and breathe and think. All that kind of stuff, that overwhelms me.
I took Seth to get his finger dressed today. It looks horrible. The flesh is growing back..yeay! It is growing back through the mesh like stuff they put on it. It looks like ground beef. The nurse looked and said " I think I will leave that and you should call and get him back to the hospital" I can see that this is not going well. He is going to need more work done on it and he is so brave and so uncomplaining, he is 6 and wants to be doing 6 year old boy stuff. I am such a wuss about my children. I am so grateful that this is the limit of my having to watch a child in pain, it's horrible.
We bought a pool today, 8ft wide and about 30" deep, just right for little boys but I am in a state because I briefly imagining Eli getting out there when we were inside and ...well now you can imagine. It is way too deep for him without us there, he will need a swim ring to be in there. Now I won't be able to relax unless I am within 3 inches of the damn thing and if I have to go out or do something inside I will be driving H insane with the ' you won't let him out/ take your eyes off him / let him drown while I am busy will you? as if he is an idiot and not as in love with the boy or as afraid for his safety as I am.
Now I wish I had just bought a £5, 6 inch deep blow up pool that would deflate in minutes and we could all be depressed but alive and not drowned because I wanted a BIG pool that was reduced to £9.99 and what a bargain! Drown your precious kids for 1/4 of the price!!
H won't answer me because, well, he isn't an idiot and won't let him drown or send him out to swim while he works on his website and then I will decide that he hates me because he didn't answer me and .....see? Therapy calls.
If it wasn't 2.32 am I would rush right over to my dashboard and set up a new blog right away, get myself some venting done and maybe sleep a restful slumber. But it is 2.33 now and I am weary. Shall have to sleep and dream of being loathed by my husband and dream some ways to keep the boy out of the pool when we aren't there. Maybe drop him in without a ring so he sees how scary it is....would that terrorise him and give him a water phobia? Better scared than drowned? Isn't a bloody paddling pool meant to be the highlight of summer for a little boy? Dear life....someone put me to bed.

11.45am Saturday.
Look. The pool. The far too deep and my children will drown pool. In the light of day. Not admitting to anything remotely close to paranoia or making nightmares out of fluffy dreams or anything but still.......



Barely to his waist!



And oh the JOY!!!