Give me some normal dammit.

I am, it would appear flavour of the week with the boys.
Should I look in the general direction of a door, they collapse in a wailing heap, saying that they must come with me and pleeeaaaassssse don't leave. We ( or should I say, I) have devised a rather splendid plan whereby one boy comes with me ( which means 2 stay at home with H, clever me) I am a lightweight when it comes to taking all 3 out with me these days, please don't make me do it. Thankyou.
The problem starts when I remind them whose turn it is. One happy boy, 2 wailing ones. " but when is it my turn?" Isaac was particularly touching today ( Elijah's turn to 'tum wizz you mummy') as he hung onto H's leg.
" Oh BUT, but mummy, I really think I cannot wait that long, I really don't think I can....."
Is there a part of me that actually enjoys seeing this from little boys who have been known to wonder what my purpose is when they have perfection in the daddy one. I do believe there is...might be a big part of me too.
What does make my heart go a bit squeaky and flip, is hearing little boys ask their daddy if he is coming out to play and then watching a 48 ( next week) year old man doing forward flips on the trampoline and racing in circles. They go for hikes in the wilderness, with such serious planning, all the way to the bottom of the garden and across the homemade bridge. I see these little people learning such respect and admiration for this man. When he talks they listen. Cool.
They are going to have such great memories of their childhood, still the scrabble every evening to see who will be lantern boy...even though it is still so light when they go to bed, someone has to hold that lantern and light the way to bed. Who could forget such traditions and heart moments?

We have summer. At last the rain has stopped and we have had, imagine this, 3 days of glorious sunshine.
Mosquitoes.
Wouldn't you know it? I am decorated by nature, big old weeping swellings that make me itch until I am less than pleasant to be with. I normally try to be unwhiny when in discomfort but not this time, if you chance to meet me, you ARE going to see my swollen, throbbing ankles and not just the once. I will mention them at least every 7 minutes and make you look at them again because they HURT ME! I share my pain, not a selfish bone in my body. It's worth it though because sunshine soothes my soul, it makes everything better.

Sophie is doing well. She has been chatty and sweet on the phone, she is talking about the things she can do now she has this job. She even sounded amused that Dan called her 6 times on her night off and made her come back at 11pm.
I am going to try and get up to see her on saturday, looks like I will have to go in my gas guzzling old jallopy but I have to go and see her and take her things to her so she can feel more at home in her room.
I'm going to whisper this next bit because I hate to jinx it...
I think I can book and pay for the HOLIDAY next week.
It will be real. Be still my heart. Mum has lent us what we need to snag that great price and make it ours. 3 weeks, hotel, sunshine, fun. Thankyou my mum.
If only I didn't have to do the flying bit ( 10 hours on a plane that won't stop and let me off if I suddenly feel that I MUST GET OUT!!!!) and then I will have to do it all again in order to get home (where will home be by then?)
Oh...went to the next house and looked through the windows and well, well, looks like someone has been in and CLEANED IT! Sort of. It is empty and swept at least. We can have the keys next week and really get in and scrub and clean. I have all my beautiful curtains from the last house and they have been washed and smell beautiful. I do believe that it will be OK after all. Even if it isn't, we have a HOLIDAY to dream about and count down and keep us going. We'll be fine.
I feel less tired today, physically I am leg draggingly weary but emotionally I feel a bit chipper and bring it on-ish. Yeay me.

Did I say that we move again on august 28th? That means we have 4 weeks of summer left in this lovely house and I love that. I think we know that we will be at the next house until November 28th, unless we can find a house that calls our name in the time that we are in next house. The long term house that our landlady has lined up for us, does not call my name, it tells me to piss off, in a really hissy voice.
I do not feel drawn to it, I want to smash it's windows and say 'Piss off yourself house with no garden and stupid flat attached that will have someone in that we can hear and probably smell'.
I drive past it almost every day and try to want it but I just can't. I shan't write it off until I have been inside and seen if it is like a tardis, with strokable kitchen and soothing bedrooms but right now I just feel cross whenever I think of it. So we'll see but my head won't let me dwell on that house until we are on the next one and can you believe I am talking about all this as though moving every 3 months with 3 kids and the biggest pile of crap is completely normal?
What IS normal? Have I ever had any of that? Give me some. Right. Now.
I want some normal, like other , normal people have. Why can't I have normal...who said I wasn't to have any? Let me slap them whoever it was.
Normal my arse ( which so isn't normal, typically.)