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!!!