topics to blog about. Or not.

I am frustrated. Yes I am. I want to blog and write and spill and I can't.
I have stuff to say, but I can't.
Yet.
Then there are things to blog about that interest me but wouldn't interest anyone else and I am such a tart that I must feel I am captivating people and keeping them intrigued.
THEN and I swore I wouldn't let myself ever fall into this trap.....I wonder if certain people read this and then that gags me because I don't want those people to see what I am thinking so I don't blog about it and before you know it, I am blethering on about the bloody weather and my health ( speaking of which, what IS with this broken but not really, just feels like it arm? WHAT?) any day now we'll be onto bowel movements and that really ought to be avoided at all costs.
I could talk about ageing because good heavens, I am doing that at a rate that takes my breath away ( huff puff) and more and more I find myself wondering if really I should be having shorter hair because older ladies look haggard with long hair, haggard or desperate to look younger. Also when should one stop dying hair and grow grey gracefully ( not when one has children in junior school, that's for sure!) and if one is going to continue to dye ones hair, what about the eyebrows because brown hair and gray eyebrows? Such a give away!
How has H managed to become almost 50 and still have buttocks of steel and not a wrinkle in sight? Is it that glorious olive skin? My goodness but he is a splendid specimen and I have so much to say about him that is both complimentary and gushing but again...can't.
Yet.
*Sigh*
I often see older ladies who are so smart, so well dressed and coiffed and made up and I look on and wonder if I will be like them when I am older and WHOOPS if I didn't already get older and the answer is quite frankly, no, I will not be like them, I will be like ME, in my cotton trader t-shirts and crocs. I think I may be one of those old ladies that young whippersnappers look at sideways and give thanks that they aren't ever going to become like.
I do love being older in many ways, being comfy is so OK, no-one expects an old lady to wear high heeled pointy shoes, no-one thinks twice at an older lady buying elasticated waist trousers and actually a few weeks ago, I went to Marks and Spencers to buy some sturdy knickers for 'that time of the month' ( which is still regular as clockwork by heavens if my reproductive system isn't to be admired, old I may be but that menopause is a good way off if you ask me!) anyway I wanted to be sure they were comfy so I bought a size up from my regular size and by mistake I bought BIG ones, not briefs ( I definitely did not want those high leg nonsensical kind, not with my arse) When I opened the pack I snorted because, well, those babies are HUGE, even for me, I held them up and was so torn ,half of me wanted to run downstairs and show Sophie and H and exclaim over their enormity and the other half was rightfully ashamed, anyway now the pack was open and I really needed some sturdy pants RIGHT now..so put a pair on and OMG...these have to be the most comfortable under garments I have ever covered my substantial bottom with. I kid you not I stood and oooooooohed and I was so gloriously happy to wear them! I must admit that I have managed to hide them from H and have avoided any possibly uncomfortable moments of being seen actually wearing them ( although why I have no idea, H could possible find them fetching, he does, after all find gingham strangely alluring) but let me tell you, every month, when Aunt Flo comes a visiting, the sting is taken out by the promise of a few days of the most comfortable bottom hugging by underwear you could possibly imagine and ask yourself what young girl would ever allow herself the joy of buying and then wearing with such glee such huge and flowery ( yes 2 pairs actually have floral bouquets on them, I really have no shame!) bloomers? None, that's how many, nope they feel obliged to wear dental floss and live with a perpetual wedgie rather than embrace comfort.
When you are old you can say things that young people wouldn't dare, things don't embarrass you the way they used to. I love allowing young people to think they know it all and knowing that actually, they would be shocked by the things I know.
I feel so much more powerful and in charge than I ever did as a young woman, I look back over the years and think about how important I thought things were and how I see now so much more clearly how none of it matters really.
I don't like the way getting older makes my body feel. What is with the aching? I swear I don't go through a single day without grunting, groaning or wincing about some ache or other. It makes me mad to think it is more than likely just my poor old body complaining. I am irritated by how hard it is to get up off the floor sometimes, if I have been sitting too long on the floor or heaven forbid, kneeling I alternate between laughing and cursing the fact that my ankles have set or my knees don't want to work.
The boys are losing all the little boy things, Eli still has the most impressive lisp and the remnants if chubby cheeks but Seth and Isaac are getting to be big boys, thinning faces, big teeth, the way they walk is becoming more of a strut.
I had parent teacher consults today for Seth and Isaac.
Seth is, as usual, on top of his class, reading at an age of 10 yrs 3 months and spelling at an age of 11 yrs 6 months, now tell me this.....how is it possible to spell better than you read? Does he look at a word and say " well blow me, no idea what that word is, but I can spell it?" Also, what 10 yr 3 month old child is he being compared to? Who decided which 11 year 6 month old child will be the marker for all children when spelling is tested?
Isaac, well his teacher simply said " he is incredible, we are all stunned by him....he not only answers the register but he does it in french...he speaks to everyone, to the point of being almost a loud mouth, he plays, he joins in, he is working hard and we are all completely blown away by him and there really isn't anything else to say!" What a star that boy is!
Eli's is on thursday, I wonder what they will have to say about my littlest boy.
I feel sometimes as though time is hurtling away from me. I have to grasp every minute before I find myself looking around and wondering what happened.
So many memories already and so many more to come......and you can bet I will blog about them all, bowel movements excepted!

Well for heavens sake.....maybe I AM better!

I had a review ( again) for my health benefits today. I was annoyed when the letter came because I am so tired of having to explain myself, so instead of getting worked up, I just resigned myself to going, saying what came into my head at the time and leaving.
I got there ( and yes, I got lost again!) waited, 45 minutes after my appointment time, who should call me in but the very same gray haired, bow tied old git that I had last time. My heart sank a bit and then, again, I told myself that sweating it was a waste of time, I was relaxed and able to see things how they really were. I was being interviewed by the head of the ' pull yourself together brigade' to even try and explain myself would have been to degrade myself, he said things like " So, hmmm, urticaria, do you have an epi pen? Have you been hospitalised? So it's not an ALLERGY that makes your skin this bad.....it's all in your head?"
"Then, your husband cleans because he wants to, not because you CAN'T?"
"So, then, when you say you can't go out when your skin is bad because you are embarrassed to be seen with welts all over your face, what you are saying is, physically you COULD go out but again, you say you 'can't' because, well it's all in your head again isn't it?"
" I know it would be difficult for you to work because of your children but would you like a job?"
And do you know what the devil made me do?
I looked him in the face and said " No!"
His face was a picture, I was supposed to say how I would love a job but am so miserable I can't leave the house..... he asked why I wouldn't like a job and I said " because I am a control freak and if I had to go to work 8 hours a day I wouldn't know what was happening at home would I?"
He asked me if get angry and I said " no, can't be bothered, doesn't get me anywhere, doesn't solve anything"
Do you go shopping? " yes, hate standing in lines though because I don't want to be talking to people, I don't like talking to people"
"well, that's just because you don't like lining up, who does?"
I gave up and believe it or not, I found the whole thing funny. They will stop that extra money again and I am past caring, I think that maybe I AM better, I can't be bothered fighting and proving to anyone anymore that I am depressed, because actually, I think I'm NOT anymore.
I can't think of a single job I would be good at, I can't think of anyone that would be interested in employing a woman who has been a stay at home parent for 23 years but I simply am not going to spend another moment trying to convince people I am a lost cause. Maybe I'm not, perhaps I should bite the bullet and get a job, somewhere somehow and try something new. Take my scaly itchy skin and meet the public, could be fun! If anyone balks at being served by a welty old itch bag, I should perhaps just smile and tell them not to worry, it's all in my head and not a bit contagious!
H and I whistled with laughter all the way home because it was so awful it was funny. He was so obviously one of those people who think anything 'mental' is hogwash and nonsense and maybe it is, the best thing? I couldn't care less what he thinks or what he writes in his report.
Hey, maybe I am better!

Sophie, the good bits.

So she is doing so well, I am enjoying so much about her and she is happy, happier than she has ever been.
She was paid this week and that's a huge thing, she is paid once every 4 weeks which is SUCH a long time in between paydays. Her money goes into one of my accounts, which is good because she is truly terrible with money, really REALLY terrible! This month she was paid a lot of money, she owed a lot because she will not learn that when she borrows money, she has to pay it back and that SUCKS!
We have a trip planned, just she and I, one that she knows she has to prepare for, she has to save, she has to get a passport, she has to pay her own way. When she was paid on friday ( yes, just 2 days ago!) I helped her work her money out, pay her debts, I took some money for her trip and she had a good amount left, enough to split into 4 and have plenty to last each week until next payday, also enough to pay for her passport.
Today, TODAY just 2 days after she was paid, she asked me to give her some of her trip money. That means she has spent every single penny that could have lasted her 4 weeks.
Now my dilemma is this......she now has 4 weeks until she is paid again, I KNOW that she is going to nag me to death because she knows I have that money ( which is HERS) and she is going to want to use it, she will beg and plead and tell me that NEXT month she will pay it ALL. Well, guess what, she can't. She has spent the passport money, that means that she cannot even apply for her passport for 4 weeks, which leaves only 5 weeks until we go on our trip, the one she says she is so excited about, just she and I. There is no guarantee that the passport will even arrive in time if she waits until the end of NEXT month to send off for it. When I give her back the money I have towards her ticket ( and I will, it is her money, she earned it, I will help her save it if that's what she wants but the next time she aske me for some of it I am giving her the whole lot back and the trip is off, she will not have the money or the time to get her passport to go on the trip.)
I know that the trip will be the best thing she ever did, I know that it is worth her going without now so she can see the benefits of saving and going without......but she can only know that by doing it, learning it and enjoying it.
I am in a quandry because she will gain very little from having it handed to her on a plate, I so want to just go ahead and step in but how does that help? I do not have the money to pay it all, if I did, I don't know if I would. She deserves the trip, we would both benefit from all the fun and experiences we would have by going away together without the boys or H. I just can't seem to get her to see that if she really WANTS that, she just has to go without now. Maybe she hasn't been in work long enough, maybe she has been without for too long to feel ready to sacrifice yet, perhaps I should postpone the trip with her until next year when she has bought her new clothes, had her hair done, been out and had fun.
I do know that if she doesn't come and I go alone, she will be SO sad...but will that then nudge her towards sacrificing next time?
I am tired of having to teach her all the time, I just wanted to have some fun with her, without strings for once in her life.
I think, tough as it will be, when she blows this and doesn't save what she needs to save I will have to go without too, she will then be responsible for both of us missing out and live with that. I don't think I can go without her ( to stay with other friends) because that would be too hard a lesson for her. Enough that she misses out, she doesn't need her nose rubbing in it by seeing me go away and come back having had a blast. I just wish she would listen, although it's already too late I think.
She bought some beautiful clothes, tasteful and flattering and I loved seeing her all dolled up to go out with her friends.....she just blew a huge amount of money on one night out, everything she had left, now what? I know I'm not about to listen to her whining for 4 weeks......no thankyou!

I will play it by ear this week and then decide, it's almost reassuring that she hasn't turned into Ms perfect overnight, seeing her show some flaws makes me think she is still human and Sophie , I think after so many years of watching her make such wrong choices, the mistakes she makes these days are almost refreshing and SO not heartbreaking, just annoying, which I can live with.
Here she is last night as she went out, I won't tell you what time she came back but she had 3 hours sleep before she had to go to work, sall steps I suppose and she did get up and go to work at least!








Gorgeous, isn't she? Pain in the arse as well. Some things may never change!

If were a horse.....

They might shoot me!
I was so well this morning, bit sore throaty and coughing a bit but feeling rather chipper and splendid. Marvellous, we have had sunshine and cool days, my favourite kind of weather and almost 2 weeks of it, hard to make me miserable, even by leaving go go crazy bone stickers all over my tidy front room ( even that! Imagine!) In fact even the sight of the stickers made me feel happy that we are able to indulge these fancies our boys have. ( sunshine works every time!) So then just after lunch ( which was fat free yet delicious) my left wrist started to ache a bit, just like a toothache and then, for the love of joints, what the hell?? Oh my goodness, what IS with that pain? Changing gear hurt, putting the hand brake on hurt, even just sitting still pretending I didn't even have a wrist hurt. Bloody hell kind of hurt too. I got home and was telling H about how I must have broken this wrist or something, lifted the arm up to show him the completely non existent swelling, that should be there because dear life it SO HURTS and as I lifted it...POP went my BACK, no kidding, right in the small of my back, something cracked out of place and in between laughing and OWing I just couldn't move, I stood and just heh! AHAHAHOWWWWW!
It was so funny but so painful and I kept trying to tell myself that this was ridiculous, I hadn't done anything but lift my not broken but feeling like it arm to the left and yet now...crippled. I lay down for an hour ( well, who would miss a chance to do that?) and thought I had made it better, got up, walked downstairs opened my mouth to say " All Better!" and " Ow! Ooof!" came out and darn it if I wasn't right back to square one again. One minute it is fine and then the next it is hurting like the devil ( does the devil hurt? I bet it does)
I am ignoring the fact that my left ankle is now trying to join in the action...what the dickens is going on?! What is with this weird snapping sort of ache crashing it's way through my body? Naturally my so long ago orthopaedic training is letting snippets of knowledge creep back in and I so far have a slipped disc, a good dose of Osteomyelitis ( non specific of course) arthritis ( though as yet have not decided whether it is rheumatoid or osteo, probably leaning towards osteo as my joints are not misshapen)
Even though I am crippled and in pain, I was selfless enough to take 2 of the boys to a barn dance, such excitement! All week we have been preparing and polishing cowboy boots, checking shirts, fidning bolo ties, fighting about who will wear what, who gets the spurs. Isaac has been so excited to wear his cowboy stuff. At 6pm they all started to get changed and were so thrilled that it was nearly TIME and then Isaac crumpled and said he should stay home because people may look at him and he never wanted to go anyway. So he stayed home with H because there isn't a reason in the world to make him go.
Seth and Eli had fun and at 8.30 were fit to drop, perfect for me and my slipped disc/osteoathritic/broken back and wrist, also they were about to open the kitchen and hand out cheesecakes and chocolate cakes so leaving right then was a great idea!
I bought some new Tshirts today, ordered them from a place online that sells great shirts for bigger and smaller people, I love their t shirts and they had a sale, so I ordered4, in the size that I am because I am sick of telling myself how I will soon be smaller and just waiting...so I ordered my size because I want to feel better NOW and by golly if it didn't work. They arrived today and they are GLORIOUSLY big, not touching a single roll, long and soft and just perfect. As I walk I have to keep hoicking my trousers up because they are loose and a bit slippy. Does it get better than that? ( well yes, it will be better when the trousers fall OFF because they are so enormous. But slippy and loose will do for now)
I have so much to say tonight but my broken/arthrtic/slipped disc back is now spreading down my legs and I have to lay down on the sofa with a hand across my brow ( but not the one attached to the broken wrist) and feel sorry for myself for a while.
Although, hard to feel sorry for yourself when you can look at a face like this and know you are his grandma!

Is that boy not just sunshine in a supermarket trolley?

The twilight zone...

I feel like I am living in a twilight zone, some oooooooie oooooie spaced out kind of new place. I rather like it but actually, no kidding I have the most painful neck ever, it started as a twingy ache, nowhere in particular and now it is a full blown stiff as a board hurting neck.
I think it's because I must have snapped my neck in a twirling motion umpteen times a day, you know like ....WHIP...WHA????? What the? Hey!!!!

Let me explain, after years and years and even more years of living one way, when it changes, so miraculously and completely, seemingly overnight ( although NOT overnight, at all) it's all a bit much to take in.
The night H and I got married, I tucked Sophie in and kissed her goodnight and said something like " So, at last Soph, you have someone who will be a daddy" her reply ( aged 10 1/2) was " I don't think so...I am going to see if he leaves, like the other one" and she made it her aim to put him to the test. She truly did make life unbelievably difficult for all of us.
Looking back, I can see she was sad, I understand that she must have felt as though the rug was pulled out from under her, going from having me to herself for all her life, having a dad that was hopeless and treating her so differently to the way he treated the boys, spending all the time in the world with me, in 10 years I didn't have any normal relationships, no dating, I had 5 years of a telephone relationship with someone I had no right to be talking to, I can excuse it and justify it but that's neither here nor there, it was me and them against the world, I shared the boys with their dad, Sophie was mine. And I was hers.
It must have been awful for her to suddenly find that she wasn't my other half anymore. I can sit here and say how different it could have been, how much she could have had if she had allowed H to see what a sweet girl she was. No point in that though, is there? It's not how it was, how it was, was horrible.
For 4 years, H tried, he tried being nice, being firm, ignoring her, trying to parent her, bribing her, nothing worked, she was going to keep doing what she was doing.
I was so in the middle, I hated this devil spawn child that woke up with a grimace and went to be pretty much every night having screamed herself hoarse. I had no idea what to do, where to go, how to help. With the birth of each baby, things got worse. She said she wanted a sister, every time she got another brother she became more angry. When we had the U/S that showed Eli was another boy, all hell broke loose, she spat, screamed and she tried to kick me, in the stomach .
She ran away ( at night, in Los Angeles, aged 13) she swore, she fought and she was utterly and completely miserable. As were we.
After 4 years and yet another bitter fight, H looked at me, threw up his hands and said " I'm done" And he was. 4 more years of something that was even worse ensued.
Piggy in the middle.
They openly loathed each other. He said, she did.
She/ He!
If I went out, I had to make sure she came too or was already out, if I was out I made sure I got home before she did. If I bought her anything, I did it quietly, if I did anything with her it was not spoken about.
If she annoyed him, he told me, if he made her angry, she yelled at me. Everything was my fault, he said I always took her side, she said I always sided with him.
Then she seemed to stop hating him and just concentrated on hating herself, she turned on the self destruct switch and that's when the real hell began.
I don't think I will ever feel in control of anything again. I am sure that is why I am a control freak with the laundry and the grocery shopping, with finances and cooking dinner. I am so GOOD at all that stuff, just let anyone try and do it better than me, don't even dare to suggest I do it any differently, I am so in CONTROL, don't mess with me.
I know I harp on about it but it's my blog, this is what my blog is for, for me to repeat myself and harp on about things and not feel guilty......thank goodness for blogs.
In my adult life, I have experienced things that blow my mind, that now I look back should have rendered me completely insane.
One after the other, slamming into me and rocking my whole life and soul.
One by one, I dealt with them and learned from each experience, I surfaced and carried on and each time, I felt a little less in control and a lot more as though life will just do whatever it will do and we all just have to get on with it. I find it very difficult to pray now, I can pray for others, I can give prayers of thanks but I can't seem to ask for anything for me. I can't seem to pray about how I would like things because well, seems to me that if it's going to happen, it will, if not, it won't.
So somehow things began to change last year, right at the end of the year. H told me that he didn't know if he would ever be able to forget what Sophie had done to the family, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to look at her again but that he was sorry that he had made my helping her more difficult than it already was. He said that he promised he would never again stand in my way in doing whatever I felt I needed to do to help her. I can't tell you what a difference that made to me. It took a long time to trust that he meant it, that I needn't be sneaky anymore, that if I wanted to pay for her to get a taxi to the house I could, without facing a stony face.
The last year has been incredibly tough, no mother should have to be as tough as I have been this year, I wouldn't wish this last 18 months on any mother, that terrible fear, feeling as though a knock on the door and seeing the police waiting there would almost be a relief because at least it would be over, at least there wouldn't be anymore lying awake holding my breath waiting for the knock on the door.
In June she came home, she was allowed to drag a mattress downstairs and sleep under the table and 3 months later she has a room, a bed, and safety, she is happy and she is quite the most glorious girl.
Little by little I am seeing things that leave me stunned, tiny things to begin with, Sophie saying that she thinks H is a pretty nice bald headed old fart because he stops what he doing to play with the boys, saying she thinks it's great they have such a lovely dad .
H picking up apple juice at the store and saying " Sophie is kind of into this right now huh?"
Sophie asking to borrow £10 and when I gave it to her saying "ha! H already gave me £20!" ( and she actually does call him 'H' which I love)
Hearing H on the phone talking to his dad, telling him how great Sophie is doing, splendid.
Sophie has just been reading a book called 'The secret' H downloaded it for her and put it in her room....she just came in and said " I can't remember if I said thankyou for doing that for me H, it's great!"
My poor neck.......WHIP! Wha? What'd she say? What'd he do? What the? Did that really just happen? Whose house am I in? Who ARE these people? Where'd my rotten family go?
It is quite marvellously freaky. I am all crumplingly gobsmacked.
I am so enjoying Sophie, every day new strides.
I am sure that it's not all over and done with, we still see signs that she has a way to go but the thing is,she is changing so much, she is happy and she likes it.
She and I are going to do something HUGE together just us and she is so excited, everywhere we go she tells people what we are going to do and how it will be just me and her that will be doing it. I know she tells everyone at work, all the customers going through her checkout.
At the weekend she went out and didn't come home, she went out on friday, came in on saturday in time to change for work, she avoided me and when she finished work she went out again, when I asked where she was going she said " to my mates house"
She did this again yesterday and when I pressed her for more info she just said again that she was going to 'a mates house' and then gave a rough location. Her very vague behaviour made alarm bells ring and so I called her and asked her again where she was and insisted she give exact details, When she did ( with an attitude and a ' and so?' tilt in her voice) I simply said " Oh dear, well, you have a lot to lose by being there...your choice" and hung up.She was home in 10 minutes, asking me to check her for signs of drug use. I explained that I didn't think she was there taking drugs but by being there, in that flat, with drug dealers and users, she was putting herself in a position where she could be tempted, she was placing herself in danger and one slip would mean she could lose everything.
She is listening and she is making good choices, she isn't fighting when we speak to her and explain why we are concerned. This is a long road, we all have so much to make up for, we all have so many wounds that need to heal and we are, for now, all treading very carefully.
I do know that I love doing things with her, she is a delight to be with.
She said to me the other day that she loves how close we are and that she never wants to go backwards. I am so with her on that and every day I hope that she feels more sure that this is how she wants her life to be, that taking drugs and getting drunk are things that are not worth losing what she has for.
She has a great treat to look forward to, I am sure it will be a time that both she and I will remember forever. It is far enough away to keep her on the straight and narrow and close enough that she can almost smell it.......don't you just love a good goal?

So you think you're tough?

Sometimes, when we feel as though we're pretty good, doing well, standing tall, something comes along to show us just how far behind the real heroes we are.
Meet Seth, not my Seth, this is baby Seth who is just over a year old. When he was 11 months old his mum, Sara, took him to the G.P because he kept throwing up, he was generally unhappy and this had been going on too long, so she took him to find out if he had a bug, or an allergy or something. What they found was that he had a 10cm tumour in his liver. Cancer.
That word sends the terrors through most of us, the mere mention of the word will cause us to hold our breath and pray.
Seth has cancer, Hepatoblastoma to be precise.
Sara and Seth are home at the moment, though that is a precious treat lately, Seth has to travel to Exeter, Bristol and sometimes Birmingham for treatment.
Sara and her husband Andy have 4 children, Jack, Amber, Aimee and Seth and in 12 weeks a new baby girl will join them. So Sara is 28 weeks pregnant with baby number 5 and is travelling the country with Seth and often the other children in tow, sometimes they live in the Ronald MacDonald house in Bristol, when Seth is an inpatient for his chemo.
He has had chemo ( 2 rounds so far I believe) and 11 days ago he went to Birmingham for surgery, the tumour showed it had shrunk and so they went to remove the remainder of the tumour. When they opened him they found that the extent of the tumour had not shown clearly on the scans and 70% of his liver had tumour in it. So 11 days ago this baby had 70% of his liver removed.....









He has amazed everyone from the very beginning of his journey with cancer, when I went to his house today he was drinking a bottle and then crawling and behaving just like a regular 14 month old baby....this was taken yesterday ( I think!)


Look at that boy!!
He still has such a journey to travel, still has chemo and endless treatment, he is a star.
I asked Sara how she copes, being pregnant and all the driving the appointments, the other kids, the every day stuff and then...well then the emotions ... I never ever want to know how she feels, I hope that I only ever have to imagine and sympathise and feel useless.
She said that tiny things send her over the edge and she is pretty sure that when she hears he is OK, when they get the all clear, when her new baby is born in 12 weeks ( or sooner because she has been known to pop those babies out unexpectedly a little early I think) when life is able to just happen, that's when she'll be sad, that's when she will allow herself to think how absolutely horrific all this is.
Last week, after another appointment, she went back to her car and saw a traffic warden writing her a parking ticket....she said that made her lose it ( as it would all of us!)
In the UK we don't have to worry about medical bills, what a huge blessing not to have to think about how much that operation would cost, how much the chemo, the IVs the drugs, the various doctors. They don't have to worry about that but they do have to pay the extortionate petrol costs, Sara has a car like my old minivan, a 7 seater that is not new, that is heavy and necessary to carry her family. I am pretty sure that every time she goes to Bristol, if her car drinks petrol like mine did, it costs her £50-£60.
I went over today and she said that they pretty much live on cereal because everyone is just too tired to cook, who has time to run to Asda and buy dinner? Who can even think of what to eat when you are worrying about your baby having most of his liver removed ( and his gall bladder at the same time) He now can't take more than a drop of tylenol for his pain because he has no liver to process it....he was having less that 2mls of tylenol / parecetamol after his surgery, he now has a new Hickman line in and can have some heavier meds but everything is still very precise, if his liver can't deal with it, he can't have it. To see him crawling and pulling himself up, laughing and playing is incredible, I looked at his scars and his tiny body is just covered in holes and scars, the big one is almost healed already, he is amazing.
I wonder how an adult would be coping with what this baby has already been through, I am sure the recovery would be slower and more painful, babies bounce back so well, he is particularly incredible.
Sarah, I meant it when I said that if you need me, just call ( and I also sort of meant it when I said but please don't ask me to have the kids!! If you need that though I will do it, I may weep because I am so old and they are so young and I love them but being able to find which house was yours now you have moved by standing in the street, listening and then following the noise ......well you know, and I do appreciate that you had 3 extra little boys there as well...are you CRAZY??)
If you want me to come and babysit one evening in your 3 weeks off before new baby arrives and if you trust me with Seth and all his tubes and pipes....I can do that.
I will bring dinner and try not to spill it in my car on the way over.
I will read Seth's FB page and most of all I will keep praying for him and you and Andy and those other beautiful little people you have.

Seth has a facebook page where you can be his friend, see his pictures and keep up with his journey, I think Sara should put a paypal button on there so we can pay for dinner or a DVD for the little ones to watch and be quiet, maybe help out with petrol costs and parking fees. Love and support is fantastic but sometimes people need a bit more than that and I would say this is one of those times.
The facebook is open to anyone who wants to join, the more the merrier.
I'm sure that there are many more people like me, who can't imagine what this must be like for you and your family, I am sure that many of us are praying for Seth and thanking the Lord that we don't know how you feel and I know many people feel as helpless as me, put a paypal button on your FB page ( is that possible?) and I hope that if you do, people like me can make a difference in a practical way, even if it's a couple of £s to buy some colouring books or a takeaway instead of cereal.
Little boys like this can make us see just how insignificant we are. How much we rely on others, how much we need faith and help from others. I hope that Sara, Andy and Seth never feel without support and love from every corner of the earth.
We're all watching this baby and cheering his every new step and we're watching his mum and dad and are ready to sit and let them have a damn good cry as soon as they hear that this baby is OK, because I am pretty sure he will be.

Headlice and belly rings and a whole bunch in between.

Staring ahead, that's what I've been doing for 15 minutes while I try to come up with a great idea for this poor blog that is fizzling out of everything.
The most exciting thing I could come up with was nits! Yes! head lice, imagine that. Actually we did have nits, even me.....those things don't just itch they hurt! I only ever had 3 in my hair but dear life, it felt like those things had teeth like razors. Even Isaac got them, the boy who doesn't do head to head contact, those were some determined little nits I tell you. It took 4 weeks to get rid of them ( anyone scratching their heads yet?) FOUR WEEKS! We tried everything, we bought stuff that smelled like creosote, we bought stuff that was conditioner that promised to kill nits and eggs, we tried this shampoo and that comb....and you know what did it? Body shop Ginger shampoo, for dandruff, smells divine, doesn't stink, has no chemicals and it gets rid of every nit and egg and makes your hair as shiny as a shiny thing.
I also bought a Nitty gritty comb, guaranteed for life, won't rust or break, gets rid of lice, eggs, old and unhatched, and It DOESN'T HURT! Even on my curly, knotty, hurty hair it slides through and not a swear word to be heard and this thing works.....actually I just believe it works because we DON'T HAVE NITS so who knows? I bought it because I am going to use it at every hair wash for the boys to make sure I catch any rogue crawling things before they comfy ( and yes, I am scratching my head just writing about this!)
I don't freak about nits, I hate them and if I get them I truly hate it but really, they like clean hair, kids get them, I don't get that whole screaming freak out thing, pillows in the dryer, wash the bedding and use ginger shampoo and a good comb, sorted.

Christine asked about my singing...well I love to sing, it makes me happy.
When I was younger, say from 15 -20 I sang in shows, at weddings, in church, I even recorded a song that a friend and I wrote and performed.
It was all about my first love ( not my first husband, who wasn't my love ever really, maybe I should tell you about him another time, we should never have married though I am so glad we did, life without the 3 big kids wouldn't be fun at all, they are what makes that marriage a good thing, not to be regretted) I loved my first love, who was called Gary, from when I was 16 until just before I met H, 2 or 3 months before I met H, after more than 20 years, I knew, at last that Gary wasn't the one for me, he could have been and I am sure that had we married when we were younger, it would have been a happy and a good marriage, we didn't get married though and it all ended when I was 20.
He had been in the falklands, he was in the Navy and while he was away, I would write to him, send funny cards, light letters etc and I wrote him a book. In the book I told him what I was really feeling, all that heavy stuff and I stuck cards in it and wrote poems ( heh, that makes me almost want to write H a poem, just to see how he reacts!) When he came home from the Falklands, I gave him the book and he loved it.
He and I loved the same kind of music and he loved hearing me sing.
The friend I wrote the song with was someone I knew all the time I was growing up, we had a fleeting romance that ended when we realised that we were much better friends than anything else, so we stayed best friends.
When Gary and I broke up ( oh the pain! Is there anything so exquisite as a broken heart?) I truly thought I would never get over not being with him and for more than 20 years I didn't stop feeling that overwhelming need for him, even when I was married to the first one, even when I loved the first one, it was a completely different love, I loved him eventually because I was married to him, I worked on loving him and did a great job, I married him because he was the only man I had met that I felt anything for, everyone after Gary was just so hopeless, I couldn't even look at them without sighing and knowing I was wasting my time! I met the first one , who is called Kevin by the way but 'the first one' suits him so much better.
Anyway my friend, Martin ( who spelled his name with a 'y' MARTYN, because he was so cool back then) was so clever, there wasn't an instrument he couldn't play and he sang beautifully, his life was all about music and he would come over to my house, he would stay night after night while I cried and he would play the piano and the saxophone, we would sing and sing some more and together we wrote a song all about heartbreak and it was marvellous, I wrote the words, he composed the music and we sang in harmony. We went to Bristol and we recorded that song.
I kept a copy of the song for years, I lost it when I moved to the States.
I know it was played on BBC radio one time, Martyn was interviewed and that was the song that was chosen and played on air....oh the giddy heights I reached in my youth and all thanks to heartache.
Right before I met H, I knew, absolutely that the whole heart ache and missing, not to mention the ' what if's with Gary were over. It was quite the most incredible and freeing emotion. It was quite literally like a thunderbolt, immediate and done with.
I knew that at last I was ready to meet someone and love him for whoever he was, no more comparisons, no more wondering if or why, what or when. I felt so relieved.
I will always wonder how he is, I will always have such tender feeling for the way he loved me, he was a good man, he was always so honest with me and I loved loving him. I loved being able to talk to him about anything and there was never enough time to say everything we wanted to say......I loved that we enjoyed all the same things, that has certainly never happened to me again!
What I have with H is very different to that first love and completely different to the feelings and relationship I had with the first one ( anyone confused?) What I have with H is the safest feeling I have ever had, I don't think I ever imagine meeting someone who has my heart and my head, I didn't believe I would ever trust anyone after the treatment from the first one and yet I trust H implicitly, there are few days that pass without me holding my breath and standing while I watch H with the boys, as time passes, with enormous surprise, I find him funnier, I learn more about him that impresses me, I enjoy his company more. How wonderful is that? It's just as it should be, imagine that.
I like being older, I have no issues with getting older and as the years go by, I find I like my age more than I did at 20, much more than 30 and I apart from becoming creaky and unable to move, I am not worried about getting older still. I find myself looking at really old people and wondering what stories they have to tell, I wonder how beautiful they may have been and what tragedies they may have faced. Age is something to be proud of and having never been known for my beauty, which is what I think many people fear losing as they get older, I think being older is a great thing. I feel sorry for young people and the trials they are bound to face, I don't think of any age I have already been that I would like to repeat. I think right now is a great age, I know more than I used to but not so much that I give up on it all. I have learned enough to know better but not so much that I am bored.
I know great people, I gain so much from the friends I have without an ounce of that angst that comes with youth, no worries about keeping up with or being better than, or having to prove anything.
I have reached contentment with where I am and who I am. Now if only I could change everybody else, life it would seem, would be perfect!
How I got here from writing about nits is anybodies guess, see? That's another great thing about getting older, everything is OK, nits one minute, first love the next, it all flows just perfectly and you can say what you like and just have people pat your head and say you're splendid. I wouldn't swap that for a belly ring and an attitude, would you?

Like Father, like Son.....

Uncanny isn't it?
Jordan is going to a fancy dress party tonight......as a leprechaun ( in case, you know, you couldn't tell!) When I downloaded the picture of Jordan I saw it next to the one of Joshua in the same pose....spooky!

Answers on a postcard please.

Still having a dreadful case of the bloggers block, am all out of ideas. Help me out here people!

The littlest things...

I drove to church this morning and half way there I gasped and said " Oh NO! I forgot to breathe in when I started the car! I am not ready to take that beautiful smell for granted!"
The whole day was filled with moments like that, where I re-noticed things that I take for granted. I have always, from very young known who I am spiritually, I don't doubt that we are here for a reason, that we are part of a bigger plan and that glory can be ours if we strive for it. I often ( but not often enough) wonder how it would feel not to have that surety, to not have the answers that I feel I have for myself. How often I take for granted that my very real beliefs allow me such freedom and comfort. No matter how dire the circumstances, at least my heart knows that it will pass, that eventually things will be OK.
This evening, after Sophie bed was delivered ( and touchingly, it really IS her bed, when she left home 16 months ago, we gave her bed away..today it was given back!) Sophie came in to the front room and said " You don't have any idea, what it feels like, to come home, eat dinner, lie on the sofa and watch TV, have a bath, be able to put PJs on and walk around without having people perv on me, and then go into MY room and sleep in MY bed."
Such simple things, I hope that she never ever takes that for granted again. I am confident that she won't ever take it for granted enough that she spoils it. She has moved back in so slowly, having to earn every step, from a mattress on the floor ( under the dining table) to having the right to bring her clothes in from the shed, to moving the table and chairs out and today, she has a bed, a dresser, her own belongings around her.
I don't think I will take this for granted, every night I go to bed and I sleep for 6 hours, I don't have to sleep with one ear listening for a knock on the door, I don't have to hold my breath waiting for the worst news. I can't imagine I will tire of walking past that room, knowing she is asleep, safe, tired because she was worked another 12 hour day.
I may never know exactly what she has been though in the last 16 months, most of me hopes I never do, self preservation make me not wonder and now things are so much better, I find myself thinking of all the 'what if's' ....they are horrendous and so many of them , oh so many!
When we were living through it, there were days when I thought I couldn't do it, couldn't stick with the tough stuff, it's so much easier to give in, it's easier not to fight but eventually when you give in, when you don't fight, when you take the easy route, inevitably it all comes back to bite you in the bum, with jagged teeth and probably really sharp pointy bits.
I feel very weary, in that glorious way when you have ( if I imagine hard) run a marathon and its time for a hot bath, I do know that there will be hiccups along the way and I am sure I will deal with them as they come, but I am, more every day, starting to feel that we have passed te worst with Sophie. She loves being happy, she enjoys being liked, she thrives on being openly loved ( as opposed to tough loved)
I am enjoying every day but am still having the hardest time letting go, I can tell her I love her, I absolutely tell her that I am proud of her and that she deserves everything she has. I just can't quite let myself relax yet. I suppose 10 years of fighting and battles will do that to a soul, it is bound to take more than a few weeks to undo that.
As long as I can show her just how proud I am of her for fighting her demons and getting where she is right now.
In her own bed, with her own family. Perhaps not such a little thing after all.

New cars are fabulous but....

Not a touch on this......









Joshua Alec. 3 Months. I am his grandma. I think I pretty much have it all.

Sometimes, it takes a while....

I am pretty sure if I were to read through this blog, I would be embarrassed about the number of references to old cars and my longing for a new one, a car that someone ELSE might look at and say "Oh....I wish I had one like that!"
My very first car was a beauty, a tiny Austin Metro but almost new, just a few years old and had belonged to my dad from new, so it felt like new. I loved that car, there wasn't a time I went out in it that I didn't feel happy and secure that it would get me where I needed to go ..and home again. I got it when I was 30, so the children I had then were 8, 6 and 4 and they fit in that tinycar just right, we were happy travellers and it served me so well for a few years, then it died and although it was fixable, the kids were bigger and longer and were cramped and grumpy when we wen anywhere further that a mile away.
Thus began my sojourn into a woman on her own, with little money, buying cars.
I had a Ford Escort ( old but OK) then a white car and the make of that car escapes me because it was foreign and people scoffed at it, I loved that one however and felt a pang when I sold it to move to America to live with H where we had a beautiful Ford windstar for a very short while ( well a year, which flew by and the joy was somewhat marred by 2 things, a) I was supposed to drive it in L.A...yeah right! and b) we couldn't afford those ridiculous payments, or the insurance that was as much as the car payment and so, well I really grew to hate that car and all the worry that came with it.
I love stuff, pretty things and posh things but I hate, really really hate having to pay for them once the novelty has worn off. For me something is only a joy to me if I can hand over the money and say " IT'S MINE!" When the Windstar went, i flatly refused to ever get another car on finance, no siree, if we couldn't affors it, we wouldn't have it and so oh my goodness, I may have shared embarrassing details with the internets in my past but even I have to stop short of describing every vehicle we drove in.
Suffice to say my bones were rattled, my hearing assaulted and my pride? Well, that was obliterated, one vehicle we had was a big old once white van, with no seats in the back. we bought one bench seat and had the car seats installed, anyone else either took their chances or used a lawn chair. I kid you not, we left that in a car park one night when the engine fell out, for REAL in the middle of the road as H said " Hey, this doesn't feel right....." there was an almighty CLUNK, a whole bunch of sparks and then nothing but humiliation and some really choice words.
We were carless for a while over here and then we bought an old but much loved ( for 2 years) minivan, that big old bus took us everywhere and we moved house 4 times with it, it carried sofas, freezers, you name it, that bus took it all and in payment it drank it's weight in petrol.
It was a relief in a way when it died and we got the black Kia Mentor on Freecycle, I bless the fanily that gave us that car because it enabled us to have our trip to California, it has enabled us to have a year without paying money in fees to get it fixed, we replaced the windshield when some idiot smashed it with a cement block and we bought a new battery. That's it in the whole year we used it.
But oh my word, you would not believe how much that car stank, that smell has made me cry, we were living in that hateful house with the smell of satan and when I Would escape, I would get into the car that smelled like Satan's feet. Or bum, who knows, but it was the dampest, most acrid smell and nothing got rid of it. The seats were torn and mouldy and the dash board had come unstucl and was curly, all out of shape and H, bless his heart 'mended' it, with wood screws.
I was so excited when we decided that we would not go to California again this year, that we would not take all year to save and then escape here for 3 weeks, only to come back and be even more despondant when we returned, to everything we had tried to leave behind. Such a relief to make the choice to make what we have HERE happier and nicer, to buil more joy here and make right here a place we like being.
I was even more excited when we decided that rather than pile more cash into the old smelly and by now very sick Mentor, good money after bad came to mind and I always hate to do that.
We were limited, with our budget on what we could afford but I knew if I looked hard enough, I wold find something that was safer and better for our family.
The Mentor had only 2 full seat belts in the back, the lapbelt was rusted and we couldn't adjust it so it wasn't safe for Seth, who sat in the middle. It was also very squashed and not one trip we took was without fighting. Not one. So help me!
Today, I found a car. It is a beautiful car. It smells of nothing but clean air, it has 3 seperate seats in the back, a huge boot to fill with shopping and strollers when I take Joshua out. It has fancy lights and air conditioning, it has storage cubby holes and trays for the boys in the backm it has cup holders and a clock, central locking ( yes! Locking, I have a car that LOCKS and a jazzy remote control key fob that locks and unlocks it and makes the lights flash and gives a heavenly clunk sound.
I have no idea why the last 2 cars I had started off with doors that locked and then something happened and they were very broken. Very.
Anyway I found a car, it is now MY car and the very best bit is that we paid for it, with money, in an envelope, right there and then and so I can go out and sit up high ( because it is really high up, I am queen of the road again, I so missed being up high when the Previa died)
Do you want to see it? Well you can!
Meet Besty .....we love her.









She is worth the wait.

Splendid things.

Well, I am experiencing something I have never done before. I am CAR SHOPPING! I am, for real. Here's the deal. The freecycle car, for which we have been immensely grateful, needs taxing and MOTing next month. It has served us well but it is pretty much a pile of poop now. The clutch is leaking, so the interior, by my feet, is covered in clutch fluid. The drivers wing mirror fell off, it needs at least one new tyre. The worst thing for me is that in the back there are 2 full seat belts and one lap belt. That means that when we all go out, Seth is in the middle, with a lap belt that cannot be adjusted, it worries and sickens me but we are helpless really.
So, we have a choice, either suck it up, pay the money to get it through an MOT and then tax it again for 6 months ( which between the 2 will probably be close to £300-£400) or buy a new car.
Every car I have had has 'come to me' it belonged to a family member, or a friend, or I found one that I could afford and so that was what I had.
This time I can choose, to a degree. Naturally I keep finding cars that 'Oh if I just had THIS much more' which is completely typical of any new purchase from shoes to homes. I have £1200...which is enough for a nice car, that will make me feel a bit grander, safer.
I have longed for one of 2 cars, a Citroen Picasso

( actually this particular Picasso is on ebay and I have had it saved for a while and I look at it and stroke the screen because that colour is so beautiful and it is so shiny and I KNOW it doesn't smell like wet dogs...but it's £1000 more than I have, so it will stay my little dream for now....we all need something to dream about!

or a Renault Scenic.



Both are high up, have 3 separate seats in the back, with full seat belts. They are as close to a people carrier /mine van as we can get, I would dearly love a 7 seater, I could take my boys out and Joshua, have all the space you need with little boys but being practical I just can't afford it. The running costs are so high and even though petrol has come down a little bit, it is still extremely expensive and not practical for us to buy one again.
I went to see a Picasso today and it was a good price, I liked it but when I opened the doors the smell was awful, I told myself how we could clean it and blah blah and then I just told myself that even though I don't have a huge budget, surely there has to be a car out there that doesn't stink.....not that bad anyway!
I have seen 2 more cars that I can go and look at tomorrow and I am so excited that for once I get to choose, say yes or no and decide!
The third choice would be a Peugeot Partner, they are almost the ugliest car ever made but the seating is great, there is so much room, it does really well on petrol consumption too ( and I know this because Uncle Barry has one and he has logged every single mile he has ever driven, he drives many many miles in his and he loves it, it does it all for him and the few times we have been out in it I must say I kind of love it too ( can't see how ugly it is from the inside, even better!)

Again, for some reason these are just out of our reach for now and so we won't be buying a Partner this time.
Can you believe I am writing so much about a second hand car? But it will be MY 2nd hand car, that I chose and paid for and will be loved.
I do feel a little intimidated by the whole process and afraid that money I have might end up in the hands of an unscrupulous person, I am trying to stick with car dealers rather than private sellers, at least if it falls apart in a few days I can go back and cry a lot and threaten them with Sophie for an hour or something.
I can't wait to find the right one, to have it here and wave bye bye to the dear stinky freecycle one, I have thought about putting it back on freecycle but to be honest I would be too embarrassed, the dash board is held in place with wood screws, the seats have holes in them....it would cost someone too much to keep it on the road, it's time to retire it to the scrapyard.
Sophie is doing beautifully, working long hours, every day, coming home worn out and sleeping 'til it is time to go and do it again! Heaven. She will be rolling in money when she gets paid, she is paid monthly and that means a huge pay cheque for her this month.....which she will spend in the first week I suspect! It is so good to see her happy and well, busy and safe.
I love hearing from people that they have seen her at work and how hard it is to believe that it is her.....countless people come to tell me that they have seen her and how beautiful she looks. It is quite the most splendid thing.
We like splendid things, very much, actually.
***Oh, I just wanted to add that I have been eating well and living my newlife for 2 weeks, I have not been to get weighed because I really hate the thought that I haven't lost weight, if that were the case and I got despondant it would be horrible, so I am just continue on, enjoying the feeling that I am doing a grand thing and that one day, well I may wake up and get dressed in clothes that just fall off and then I shall go and get weighed and marvel at how marvellous I am. Splendid, carry on.***

Boring.

My goodness I am so out of ideas, all my blogging thoughts just dried up.
I simply cannot think of anything worth talking about and this is lasting a long time.
I don't like this at all, not one bit.
Shall come back when I have something remotely interesting to say.

Well, fancy that. ( and some pictures for good measure!)

So, sometimes, I will think something, which leads to another thought, which then leads to a light bulb moment of dazzling understanding. I had one of those yesterday, I like those moments, when I understand myself a bit better.
For the longest time I have had problems with seeing men wearing suits, driving posh cars. When I see one of these men, I feel a sad sort of longing, as though THAT'S what I want, a man with a great job and a flash car ...that feeling is swiftly followed by feelings of such shame and embarrassment that I feel as if I should skuttle off and find a cosy rock to crawl under. I had no idea why I felt that way because, whilst I like nice things, they really don't mean enough for me to sacrifice what we have in order to chase after them. A choice between a flash car and having H right here, doing what he does with our boys isn't actually even a choice, not even worth considering. What we have together and with these children is priceless, it is everlasting and it is exactly what I always wanted.
So why those feelings? Why the yearning when I see a working man? Actually when I see the man over the road come home from work, in his contractors van I get the same emotion...so why? Well yesterday I worked it out.
As a woman, we have enormous power, we are far from the weaker sex and I think we own it all!
I get these feelings about a working man because I had such ideas when I was younger, I could hardly wait to be a wife and run a home, to have children and I pretty much knew how I would do it! Oh how foolish we can be!
I married the first one, who was in the army and so from the very start things were nothing like I imagined. Months alone, then he'd come back and interfere with the great routine I had going..then we'd get used to him being home and off he'd go again! We moved too many times and so feeling at home and settled was hard.
He never saw himself as married and after he left I discovered that he had behaved as though he were single whenever he was away, what a man!
Then followed 10 years of being single, with all those added extras thrown in for good measure.
Marrying H was like a turmoil, every stress and worrisome detail came out way, new family, 4 big kids, 3 in a new country, 1 with exceptional issues, H and I having been independent, single people for 10 and 11 years respectively, a pregnancy immediately...wow what a time THAT was. I loved the fact that he was working and coming home every dinner time though, I felt as though THIS was my dream. At last.
I thrived with the routine, early mornings, everyone leaving for school and work, all day to do 'my thing' My home was beautiful, the kids settled, I was in heaven.
Of course, things never work out the way we plan them and one thing after another led us to where we are now.
I worked out that my yearning for how things were, how they will never be again, is down to the idea that I have ( and which, of course is right because they are MY ideas, I feel it, so it's true!) that being married to a man who works all day, comes home at night and leaves the rest to me means this.
Man is out all day, woman is in charge, runs the house, does a great job...feels great.
Kids are home with mum and see her more than dad...mum wins!
Husband is out all day ( oh joy!) comes home in time for a little while with kids..more time with wife.
That means that the woman wins all round, she is in control of the house, is closer to her children than the dad and is closer to her husband than the children are. Somehow she gets the lion share of all the good stuff.
This is not necessarily a good way to feel but to me it is true, marvellously selfish and 'in your face' look at me, I win!
So what I'm saying is that all that yearning for the man in a white shirt is not actually anything to do with money of prestige it's all about ME. What I yearn for is more that feeling of being in control, of being number 1. The way our lives are means that I feel very much at the bottom of the important pile.
H and the boys have it all going on, he is to them, the be all and end all, they enjoy the same things, they think the same way ( heaven help me and to a degree Eli because we are so normal, we don't stand a hope when the others get on a roll!) H is capable and able, he does things here beautifully, I often feel redundant. I admit that I hold the purse strings, I am really really good at things to do with finances, I am thrifty and make what we have stretch and stretch some more. H is not good with money...he talks as though he is now but in all honesty he can say what he likes, this is my territory, I have proven that we are considerably better off when I do things my way. I'm not letting go anytime soon because that is really the only way I get now-a-days, to feel as though I rule at something.
Sometimes, I don't like feeling so much like the after thought, I think we all long to be number one and irreplaceable ( And actually, when I think about it, I am irreplaceable because I am sure that no-one else could deal with this lot!) Then I stand back and look at what I have and Heavens to Betsy! Eat your heart out world! I have a man here who does it all ( except laundry and bed changing) he spends more time with the boys than any other man I have ever met ( because he can, although even when he was working he really did walk in the door and step right up to dad duties) He is kind, funny and loving. He has the odd moment of trying to tell me how best to spend the money...with a swift reminder he shuts up and lets me get on with it again.
I am astounded at how well H and I get along considering we are together 24 hours a day ( almost, I do go out during the day and leave him here to bask in the glorious silence.) He really is my friend I like him very much..how cool is that? Every time I think I know him inside out he changes his mind and for goodness sake who IS he? That helps to keep things interesting.
I think, actually, that given the choice to be the wife of a posh car driving, white shirt wearing, home for the evening man or H, as he is.....I've got what I always wanted, without knowing I even wanted it! That is marvellous isn't it?
Maybe it's the car I was after all along..forget the man driving it, just let ME have the car and by jimminy if life wouldn't be just about perfect.

Long story short.

Ever have a day when you have things to blog but the very idea of sitting and typing and thinking and trying to make it interesting just makes your brain fart?
Yeah, me too.
I feel as though if I even try it'll be like this....
Had a great day with Sophie today, it started early and then...oh too much to say, would take so long and *sigh* is all so much trouble.....lunch, shopping, happy YEAY!
H and way too much information, but sort of funny and really annoying and....*sigh* can't be bothered. ( when I read that back in 2 years time I am going to eat my brain trying to remember what the hell I am not writing about! Clue to me.... damn fairies)
Oh exciting thing...looks like by early next year I may be able to actually look for a better car because and if and maybe.....oh who really cares about that, except me?
Cross that it is all cool and autumnal and chilly in the evenings and WHAT ABOUT THE SUMMER FIRST? Weather, when you are reduced to logging about the weather things are looking really bad.
Isaac freaked about school today, that threw me for a loop and both H and I were horrified to be caught so unawares and .....well eventually it was fine and he did it and we did it and well, all's well that ends well.
Can hardly believe that my jeans are loose already...have convinced myself that they just need washing and is not a result of miraculous weight loss, weighed in a weeks time when I will see how well I have done.
That's it. Done it, you know everything now......I am such a great blogger aren't I?

It really IS the most wonderful time of the year.

The school holidays flew by, surprisingly as the weather was so appalling and much of the time was spent inside, anyway I never did quite reach that awful pitch where it was all too much and counting down the days until school started. I had no idea how ready I was for them to go back.
They were remarkably calm this morning, I half held my breath as Isaac asked which was his uniform, felt very smug about the fact that I had ready both lovely new trousers ( which are identical to the worn old trousers albeit an inch longer to cover those ankles) and a pair of old trousers, a worn shirt ( because he cannot stand new shirts that haven't been washed at least 50 times) same sweatshirt...all ready, HA! Foiled boy, as soon as you started to cry that THESE trousers are NEW and CANNOT BE WORN! I just gave you the old ones because, well there are some fights that must be fought and others that couldn't matter a bit.
Shoes almost caused a problem, last year he wore his airwalk trainers, until the soles flapped off and there were holes in the heels. He has FIVE other pairs of shoes that he can wear. FIVE but he cried and begged to wear those old airwalk stinkers. I stayed calm and said he could absolutely wear any of the other 5 pairs but those ones were not a choice.
5 minutes later he came out wearing his Sketchers, the red ones, not the brown ones. He talked his way through putting them on and how worried he was and how he wasn't sure they would be OK and maybe and perhaps ...but he put them on and he was happy ( ish)
As time went on I found him sitting on the sofa under a blanket, saying he probably wouldn't be going to school, year 3 was too much and he wouldn't go thankyou.
We ignored him and spoke to Eli about being in year 1 , Seth chatted about his beginning year 4 and then I said " You never were worried about going into Mr W's class were you Seth ?" ( Isaac is going into the class Seth just left) He replied " Nah, I always knew it would be fun" Like magic a little Isaac appeared from under the blanket and he was ready and in the car bang on time ( and he had been counting down the minutes for an hour... "OK....13 minutes now, 7 minutes, FIVE minutes.....are you ready? Are you? We should go right now because 1 more MINUTE!")


So he wasn't about to stand proud and hold his back pack aloft as a sign of greatness and readiness for the adventures about to unfold. But he got in the car.



Is that, or is it not one of the greater sights a mother can behold? I think so!

Look, no screaming, clinging, holding onto door jambs.....





Then he noticed plastic envelopes with reading book records and such inside and if there is anything liable to get Isaac's interest it would be this, was there one with HIS name on? Was HIS packet on the right table ( which he made a B line for and sat firm because THIS was where he was going to be sitting!)


He had to look through 3 boxes on 3 tables before he found his and declared "yep, there's mine, it's on the wrong table though!" I wonder if Mr W moved the envelope of Isaac moved tables....pretty sure I know what the answer to that is!

Elijah was excited and happy to be in his new classroom and scarcely gave me a second look, he got his sticker with his name on, found a peg with his name on, found his friends and that was that!





I realised when I downloaded the pictures that all but one of Seth's have his full name on them, and although I admit to being pretty unworried by internet scary stories, even I have my limits...so here is Seth's one and only internet able picture....



I can't tell you how blissful the day was, all those hours of quiet and calm, being able to tidy and clean and not have someone following me telling tales or making a mess. I had no idea just how ready I was for some of that again!I had forgotten how quickly the evenings go once they get home, play for a while, eat dinner, get ready for bed and go to bed at a reasonable hour ( 8 and 8.30 oh joy!)
I like school, more than I realised.What makes it even better is that THEY love school and came home happy, ready for dinner, eager to play.
Yes, if you ask me, it really IS the most wonderful time of the year.

Tears before bedtime.

Today was a dreadful day. The last day of the school holidays, sun was shining, I got up and thought that we should make the most of the day and take the boys out.
Dressed and ready for an adventure, we left in the car and headed out for the day, Seth complained all the way about how long it was taking and where were we going, he is like chinese torture on most days if he isn't in control.
We arrived in beautiful Brixham, where there is a for real pirate ship, parking was hard to find and we ended up in a car park 15 minutes from the town centre, by the time we reached the harbour, I was ready to throw all 3 of them in and feed them to the seagulls and crabs....I am at a loss as to why these boys behave so poorly, I sometimes wonder if maybe I am too hard and expect too much, if I nag or say no too often. Last time we went out I was feeling as though I made a mistake using such nice names as Seth, Isaac and Eli and should have gone with OI! YOU! and RIGHT! Just as I was at my wits end and thinking that the sound of my voice must be grating on every other beach go-ers nerves, a lady sitting next to us said " You are SO patient!"
I was flabbergasted, PATIENT?? How so...well it would seem that most of my ranting and screaming is done inside my head, and in reality I don't actually say out loud things like " So help me if you little shites don't start behaving like human beings, I am going to tear you limb from limb and buy a kitten!" I say things like " Stop what you are doing and think please, do you suppose this lady likes having sand thrown in her face?"
Instead of " OI! Pack it in you little buggers!!"
I say " Listen, if you do that again, and know that this is the last time I will say this, we are going home"
Who'd have thought?
Well, today was one of those days and I do know that on our way into the town center I did lower my voice a few times and warn, with as much meaning as I could muster, that bad behaviour would not be tolerated. For all the good it did me or anyone else in Brixham. ( and that would be NO good, at all, not an ounce, none at all, just so you know.)
They had crisps and a chocolate chip cookie, I had a chicken sub from subway ( oh so delicious, sweet onion sauce and low fat at that!) As we sat and ate, a family walked past with a little boy in a wheelchair, he was terribly disabled and hunched over, his tongue was protruding and he was on the receiving end of many stares. As he got level with us, Seth pointed and said, very loudly
"What was THAT?"










Yes. He did... and then Isaac laughed.




I froze for a millisecond and then I made them cry, I made them cry again when we got home and I made them cry again when I told H what had happened. I wish I had had the presence of mind to run after the family, to talk to them and ask them about their boy, to ask what he loved and what his name was and then to ask them in front of the boys if heir son had ever said or done anything in his whole life to make another person cry. Had he ever done anything to another human being that resulted in them, as parents, being so ashamed that they cried?
I would lay money on what the reply would have been.
I made them aware that this boy was some one's precious son, that he was loved and perfect that what they had said and done today would stay with that family for a long time, that their day out had been spoiled by their thoughtless actions and words.
I pointed out that we have disabilities in our family, that we have known how sad it is to have people point and laugh.
Then we went home, without my speaking to them again, at all.
We drove home and I told them that it will be a good while before I feel like taking them anywhere again. I think they got it.
It's hard to know what Seth gets as far as feelings go. He cried more than the others but I'm not sure if it was shame or just the fact that I wouldn't let it drop.
When we got home, I showed him a video that DID get a message across because it is about basketball, which always hits home. When they had watched the video ( thanks Marilyn for emailing it to me) I explained that no matter what someone looks like, what they are ale or unable to do, whether they can speak, hear, see , walk, play. There is not a person born that is not worthy of being loved and given the respect they are due.



I have cried a lot today, I just pray that these boys have learned a good lesson, that it wasn't all for nothing.