Are you ready for this?

I kind of hate to post after yesterdays because I loved that one! These boys, although if I am honest drive me to distraction more often that I care to admit, just give me such reason for being.
I simply cannot imagine where my life would be if I hadn't met H and had these little gits.
I know I would be feeling very old by now, having the boys stops me having time to feel my age. I know I would not be ready for ...what? What would I be doing or have without these little boys? I have friends my age who don't have little people and most of them work, they have careers that they worked at whilst raising the children they have that are the same age as my older kids. They still work and they have time and money to build, to 'do', they enjoy peaceful times, plan for retirement. They wait for grandchildren and love visits from their children who flew the nest a while ago. Some have children who still live at home but are independent enough to need little care.
I am in the minority in having little children, still needing school runs, tooth fairies, Santa.
I am one of the lucky ones. Not a day passes by without my realising that these children are like bonus blessings, unexpected yet so longed for.
I do get comments on the fact that Seth and Isaac are 11 months apart, Elijah was a shock to all but H and I, we endured such harsh judgement for having him.
My answer to all and any criticism is this.
I always knew that I would have lots of children, I really did, for as long as I can remember I thought I would have 5 children. When the first one left I was heartbroken because his leaving changed everything. Funnily enough though, we had decided that we would have no more children, he had a vasectomy booked....still I felt that I would have more children so why his leaving left me so bereft is a mystery.
I was a single mother for 10 years and throughout that time, I prayed with such sincerity that somehow I would marry again and have the children I felt were waiting to be with me, that were mine.
So H~ and I met after those 10 years, I was 38, he was 40....time was short, I knew that I was going to have more children, I had prayed so hard for that, how then, did I have the right to now say "Oh thankyou Lord, here is the husband I prayed for and oh look, I am pregnant right away.....very good, now I will tell YOU when I want the others" In my mind it didn't work that way, this was no longer up to me, I asked, He gave. Enough.
When I conceived Isaac, 8 weeks after Seth was born, I was terrified, of course. But I wasn't for a moment regretful. When I lost the baby after Isaac and then conceived Eli immediately after that loss, I was so sure that this was right and I also felt, without any doubt, that this baby was the last one for me. Completely sure. When he was born that feeling was confirmed, he was my last baby.
The past 8 years, H and I have felt that we have had our heads down and shoulders to the wheel just getting by. It has been a tough, tough time. Babies and teenagers in the same house are akin to oil and water in the same bottle. You can shake it all you like but you are never going to make it mix! Oh my goodness, you have babies stripping your every ounce of physical strength and big kids sapping every single emotion you never even knew you had.
Babies getting you up 5am, big kids keeping you awake til 3am.
Babies needing you to 'do' big kids needing you to 'be' and 'hear' and 'know'
Now ( shhhhhh whisper this bit) the big kids are almost independent, pretty much alright and if not, well they are hardly here, what the eyes don't see etc etc.
The babies? Not babies, they are little people with personalities and the ability to reason, most days we can get them to understand what is expected and what do you know? They pretty much do what is expected.
We don't have the bags to pack every time we want to leave the house, if they are hungry or thirsty, they understand waiting. No nappies, oh JOY no nappies, or pull ups or bottles or potties.
They can get up on their own ( HUGE!!) in the past 2 months, if we are asleep when they wake, they come down and snuggle on the sofa, watch TV, get themselves cereal and they wait...they actually leave us sleeping CAN YOU IMAGINE THE JOY?!?
This means that right now, for me, these are the glory days, Too young to be out and making me pace the floor with fear and all those 'what if's' Old enough to be able to trust them for short periods of time.
I love these days. OK..the mess is never fun, I am resigned to it, unbelievably for someone previously so obsessed with perfection, I give in, it's a mess, nothing matches, yes this is our home, step over it, kick it out of the way, sit down if you can find a spot and whoops, sorry it's sticky.
It is for a short time, I look at Isaac in particular lately and can see a young man right there, so close by.
Just this week I have heard Elijah mutter these words " Ewwww, that's for GIRLS!" and turn away from it. " Acherlly, I like Ben Ten now, not High school musical" "Green" when asked his favourite colour and whilst a little secret part of me is breathing a massive sigh of relief, it all screams of him growing up. My last baby, growing up and I wonder if, even when I am near to 60, when these boys are ready to grunt as they pass us in the hallway, as they go out while we get ready for cocoa and bed, I wonder if I will be ready even then.
I doubt it. What I want to know is, that when I blink and we are there, when these boys are taller than me, stronger than H, when they look at us with that somewhat 'humouring' glance that teenagers give their slightly dim parents, I want to know that I grasped every moment of the glory days. So if that means dancing and singing to the carpenters while the laundry sits to the left...I'm up for it.
If it means running on the moors when the carpet is crunchy, too bad, not sad.
If it means buying go go crazy bones when we need fabric softener...oh well, crunchy towels are fine.
I also love those videos because, well, I used to sing, all the time, anywhere and everywhere. I did weddings and shows, recorded a song I wrote with a friend. I did pantomimes and choirs. I sang while I worked, drive, to my babies, always.
Then, I couldn't sing anymore. 2 years ago I woke up and I couldn't sing, overnight, I couldn't hear the notes and I couldn't get the sound out of my soul.
I was told that it was psychological, for so long I held so much inside me, stopped myself from crying and talking and screaming, that somehow singing got trapped inside too.
Right now, I am able so sing when I drive, as loudly as I want, I can sing what I like and how I like. I can sing in the kitchen and while I cook and clean.
I cannot sing at church, no matter how hard I try the sound will not come out, I can sometimes, quietly sing the alto to very familiar hymns, the rest, I have to mouth the words because the song is still trapped inside.
When I heard that video yesterday and I was actually singing, in tune and loudly enough to be heard, my heart sang and I have lost count of the times I have watched that since H downloaded it. I can still sing, albeit only in my kitchen and my car but it's still in there and it still sounds alright. A year ago I couldn't sing at all, not a note.
That tiny clip is like treasure to me and the comments about it are like extra treasure.
Singing has always been so important to me, when I was unable to pray I could sing and know the Lord knew what I was saying. Losing the ability to sing has been more painful than I can say and I have barely mentioned it because I haven't wanted to bring attention to it in case it made it real.
I have hope that some day I will be able to sing at church too, for now I suspect it is just still too emotional and I can't do emotions very well and still function. It's a long business this getting better lark.
I thrill at every small step toward 'normality' though. These boys are a huge part of being well, how can I be anything but OK when I see thigh slapping jigs from a little boy who used to stand and stare at the wall?
How can I do anything but laugh at that camp littlest one as he wiggles his hips and clicks his fingers in time to a tune?
How can life be anything but grand when that skinny little curly topped 7 year old cracks such jokes with such impeccable timing?
Yes, these are the glory days alright, I just hope I can keep stepping over the mess and grasping every glorious moment.

Labels: happy stuff

Isaac, you know the autistic one, the introverted and silent boy of mine. He has a new trick, he sings...he has been singing for a while and lately he wants the world to hear, he has adopted a fake opera voice and he uses it. Even in church, on sunday one of the hymns had Allelujah several times, he was in high heaven, without the switch that most of us have, he sang his heart out..Allelujah-ing even when everyone else had stopped.
I caught him today ( it took a while and several attempts) on video. This might show why I often have a headache. This level of noise is not unusual, neither is the chaos and fighting for top spot.




Oh my how LOUD are they?



Heh...might have been suckered in to the 'if you can't beat 'em join 'em' train of thought here....


Just have to love that thigh slapping too.

And this shows how much smaller Eli is compared to the other two, he doesn't get left out though, not Eli the dancing boy!!



Mum had an operation this afternoon and we kept busy so we didn't think too hard about what was happening, thankfully she is doing really well, we can go and visit tomorrow, when I shall write more about her.

Labels: England. Seth, funny stuff, Isaac and Eli.

Jordan Thomas Edward. 21 today.
From day one he has been my easiest child, he came into the world following 6 painless contractions, some pushes done in cold blood and amidst much laughing. I looked at him, this big boy with a mass of perfectly tidy hair and I had no idea what to think. He wasn't what I was imagining at all, there had been no pain at all delivering him, I felt as though someone had given me a cute new puppy when I had been hoping for a kitten.
I was distanced from him, able to do what he needed but still looking at him as someone else held him and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do with him. I did not want to breast feed, at all and refused to even try, with Dan I felt like c ow with one or the other udder out 24 hours a day and I just hated to even start that shinanigans again, the trouble is, he would not take a bottle, at all, he gagged and wretched and spat and he turned his head.
Everyone told me to breastfeed him, for 3 days, over and over, how he would starve and all he wanted was his mothers milk.
"He doesn't KNOW!" I would say, I hadn't even tried to feed him, how did he know that's what he wanted?
On day four, they beat me down, I gave in, so begrudgingly...and told them to pass him to me, I would give it a go but I didn't want to and they needn't think I was going to enjoy it, at all.
He latched on, he suckled for 5 minutes each side and he slept for 5 hours straight, every time. For 9 months. Delightful boy.
He loved me, if he could see me he was happy, if he couldn't, he screamed and that was the only time he screamed, ever. SO I just took him with me, everywhere, to the toilet, the kitchen, 3 steps to the right, he came too, it was a habit that suited us both, I never gave it a thought unless someone witnessed what we did and asked how I didn't go insane...then I would try and walk out of the door to show them what would REALLY drive me insane and they would get it.
He was a deliciously chubby baby, he loved to play with his hair and as I fed him he would rub his hair or reach for mine. He rubbed most of his hair off by the time he was 6 months old so he took to grabbing mine very gently and just rubbing it between his fingers.
I don't know if or when he would have grown out of screaming if he couldn't see me because he wasn't even 2 when his dad left and then when he was just 2 he was snatched and hurt so badly, well no-one ever questioned why he would scream if he couldn't see me then.
There is something about Jordan that has always had a most special part of my heart. So afraid was I that he would always be damaged and sad, so desperate for him to feel safe and be brave, I felt as though I had to shut off all emotions, strong feelings and tenderness, in order to get through it, make him well, help him grow up to be happy and unafraid without going insane.
He never ( that I can recall) made me lose my temper in the spectacular way that the others can do. Not until he was in his late teens anyway. Even then, if I am ever to lose my temper with him, he somehow knows how to diffuse it immediately and then he makes me laugh.
He always makes me laugh, he is quick and irreverant and says the kind of things that appeal to my humour, the sort of things that make you gasp because did he REALLY say that? And then laugh, because he did and it was so well timed and so wrong. On saturday at the park it was sweltering, truly almost unbearably hot and we were enjoying it but also not. Mel said " Oh I am SO hot!" and without a seconds thought he said " Oh don't flatter yourself!"
Now if anyone else said that it would most likely sound insulting but when he says it ..it's hysterical.
He gets away with talking that way to almost everyone, he also knows how to take it when it gets handed back, which helps.
I am enjoying watching him from a distance as he grows, he is doing a great job. He has found a new job and managed beautifully in the weeks he hasn't had work. He is doing what he should be doing and more. I see that the years I raised him alone have paid off, whatever I did, I did right, he makes me proud.
Now he is grown, he is still my easiest child. Lanky great git.

Labels: Birthdays, Jordan

Occasionally I get the jitters and feel I want to burst forth into life and do stuff.
Today I feel like that...tiny weeny little sparklings of enthusiasm to be something more than I am, to embark on new things.
So here is a list, maybe this time next year I will dig it out and see if I did any of them. Be warned some of these things will be dull, some ridiculous, some surprising and some, forgotten because by the time I get around to actually writing the list they will have dribbled through the holes in my mind and be lost, possibly forever.

a) Learn to quilt and then quilt, like a mad lady, all kinds of quilts but especially splendid memory ones. I long for evenings filled with me making beautiful quilts and squinting at swatches and squares of material and visualising their magnificence

b) Play the piano, this has been a lifelong desire, I actually feel so sure that I can already play ( and I can sit and plonk in a pleasing way) What stops me getting on with it? A fear that actually I can't play and then I will be sad that I was wrong. Also I can't read music, at all..so there's something I would need to learn first and I am lazy.

c) I just deleted this one because I want it very much and as I was typing it seemed ridiculous and I can't have that, so what I intend to do is actually work on it, begin to make it happen and when it doesn't seem ridiculous I will tell you, I promise. It is a life changing and exciting plan and one that has been hatching for a long while. Intrigued? Very good.

d) Change Sophie's life.
I began today and although it is sure to be a long road, I know we can do it. I am seeing tiny steps she is taking on her own and so we decided that we would encourage her, it will either work or it will come back and bite us so hard we'll bleed.
Today, after a long discussion with H last evening, we told Sophie that if she gets a job, she can live here.
She can pay us £50 a week keep and she can turn the dining room into her own room, she can do with it what she will. When she has a job. We told her that this is a plan that will be up to her, it will be reviewed every 3 months, she cannot bring people back here, she will be responsible for her room and any behaviour that will be detrimental to the family will mean an immediate change of our minds, she must not speak to us with anything but respect, no more yelling and threatening behaviour. ( which I am almost loathe to say has been missing, hate to jinx that!) This is for many reasons, firstly for me because I cannot live another day with the uncertainty, I hate to see her floundering and afraid to get a job because she is afraid of what that may mean.
She has applied for and is following up on, job applications, we wanted her to have an extra incentive to find one and work. She will have to furnish the room herself and prepare for when she moves out, so buying her own bed, TV etc will ( we hope) encourage a feeling of worth and a desire to look after what she has.
She needs to feel as though she belongs, I want her to now that she has to play the game, that she can belong as long as she keeps doing her part.
She is here anyway, I can't see how that will change, we decided that she may as well know where she stands and hopefully see that this as a chance for her to be happy and work her way up to moving out on a good footing.
When I told her today I told her just how nervous I was to even tell her what we decided for fear of having it all backfire on us. She reacted just as I hoped she would and also immediately asked if she should go and thank H...I told her that words mean little to him and that we would both much rather she show us she is grateful by the way she behaves and use this chance we are giving her.
One step at a time, to help her change her life I just have to go one step at a time ....she had a Drs appt today, that she made and arranged, I reminded her that she should ask for a refill for her meds at the same time, she replied that she did that last week and it is waiting to be collected when she (or I) have the money for it. HUGE. ENORMOUS! She did that without a single reminder. Joy. I will find the money so she doesn't have to go without, I hate to risk any chance of a good thing being ruined.
Oh now I forgot what else I was going to list, hopeless, get off on a tangent and forget everything else. Maybe it will come back to me...maybe it won't!

Labels: Sophie and stuff

That other post has been burning holes in my conscience. Also we may have a solution that half of me suspects will come back and bite me, I shall save that post until decisions have been made, so far just a discussion, an idea and a headache that is of the kind that makes one pace the floor moaning, laying down makes it worse, speaking....ouch and that desk top fan I can hear? That bugger is liquidising the inside of my skull, any minute I am going to opt for sweating quiet, any minute but not yet.
I had Joshua last night, all night...and I can put my hand on my heart and say that I adore that baby, however I understand that the Lord has reasons for making the wombs of most 46 year old women unable to expel newborn babies. It is a mere 5 years since I had Elijah, but oh my, the nights of being able to spring up and feed a baby and whisper and kiss and marvel...gone. Long gone.
I forgot how much noise little babies make and I think my grandson is the gruntiest and wriggliest scrunchpot ever. We were doing really well, I fed him at 8 and he crashed, all snuggly and comfy in his moses basket on the sofa, right by me where I could look over and adore him, where I could poke occasionally and then start to wonder if sleeping like this, at 8, 9, 10, 11....is this good? Do they do that little 7 week old babies and then sleep in the night? I forget.
I fed him just after midnight and he still slept, giving me several heart glowing grins in his sleep, as I changed his nappy and crooned to him
"Joshua, Joshua, sweeter than lemon squash you are. Oh. My. Gosh! you are, Josh-u Osh -u a"
great big smiles, even though he just couldn't open his eyes. I loved him even more.
I went to bed then, just after his midnight feed because I didn't know what his plans were and ...well I had no idea how I was going to do the sunday morning stuff with this little person around as well as all the regular madness ( and hoorah! Sophie....just took him in to her and said AUNTIE SOPHIE...its ME.....here I am!" and she was happy, perfect, I even managed a shower)
SO I lay and listened to the grunting and the shuffling and the little 'eh eh' noises that had me holding my breath waiting for him to wake up. 2am..he woke up....fed him again, settled him down....4am.....uh oh, H is actually sleeping and that is unheard of at 4am so I grabbed the moses basket and told the occupant that I adored him but maybe we could fall out, so he smiled and then I knew we no more likely to stop being friends......he was SO AWAKE, all smiley and happy to be with grandma in this unexpected way, how marvellous...... and we lay on the sofa the boy baby and me and we snoozed and soaked it all in, knowing that this was a one off, that after church I could ( and did) have a glorious nap while Joshua did whatever Joshua does on a sunday afternoon.
Mel was so happy to see him when I took him home and she called last night because she missed him, they both got back much earlier than they planned and I so hope that the night life is less appealing than it was, now they have this little man pulling their heart strings back home.

I wish my head didn't hurt so I could explain that bizarre rant about fat / thin in the last post. Basically I seemed to keep reading blogs that were either about Blogher ( which sounds like my idea of sheer hell, who in their right minds would think that thousands of women who all write blogs and want to be the funniest, best, most important, in one place vying for top spot and having to listen to speeches about how to be best, funniest, most successful and then feeling like a piece of crap when you don't get invited to 'the' party and no-one knows ( or cares) who you are unless you are in the top group of bloggers, well does that sound like fun to anyone? No thankyou. Boston for me, hands down.) Blogher or people talking about going to the gym and how fat they are and how so and so is so much thinner and then so and so leaving comments to say that she saw writer and OMG how THIN is she and then commenter felt like a cow and OMG so FAT....urgh.
Oh look, even with headache I whittered on...which reminds me does anyone get that twitter thing? IS it Twitter? Head hurts, can't remember but I did try to get it and ....I don't. Am going, head hurts. Am not so angry anymore, H helped, I am so glad I have him, unless he is getting on my nerves and then, well he makes me angry and off we go again!

Labels: feeling better.

At church today, one of the bishopric asked to talk to me and then asked me how I am .
Oh dear.
Actually I didn't cry, which you would think is a great thing, wouldn't you?
The thing is, for weeks now I have been trying to put a finger on how I am and what I am feeling and because he asked me, I tried to answer ( note to all, don't ask me how I am, I might believe you want me to tell you and then, tell you!)
I do know that for a long time it would appear that the only emotion I have left is anger and so much of it. I feel such ANGER...without a clue as to what I am angry at /about. Everything makes me angry, really, everything, really angry.
You? Probably make me angry.
Him...definitely.
Breathing? Don't do it near me or I might smack you in the head.
Eating, don't let me hear you is all.
Need me to cook for you? Clean for you? Think for you ( don't ask me to think for you, really. Don't)
Laundry anyone? Sod off and go au naturelle and pick your damn clothes up off the floor for the love of Pete and who IS this Pete, bring him here so I can give him a piece of my mind.
I am not mildly irritated, I am head explodingly rage filled. All day, every day. It is wearing me out and bringing the whole house down.
I wish I knew what was making me so angry because the relief I would feel at beating the living hell out of it would be great. I just wake up and what do you know? Here we go again, surrounded by idiots and with the world doing it's best to make me snap. Except I'm not and it isn't..so what is the deal?
This is when I have to accept that in my head things are not always as they should be. This is one of those times where I am probably going to have to suffer it ( though not gladly and what about my poor family?) until some long apparently forgotten misery comes back to haunt me. I have so much sadness and horror that I have hidden so well for so long I have forgotten much of it, every so often ( less often these days though for that am truly grateful) Something happens, or doesn't happen and it triggers a memory, I never suddenly remember what it is that is festering in my soul right away....it's more like a niggling ache, an occasional stabbing of pain that goes before it even registers properly and this goes on and on until right when I least expect it...it erupts and my heart or brain explodes. Sometimes both.
For months I have felt as though I am superfluous to this family. I have my uses and I do my bit relatively well, juggling the finances, making the calls, folding the clothes. Get up, deal with it go to bed, get up deal with it go to bed, lather, rinse , repeat. As for a real purpose or any great importance? Nah.

I am more heart sore about Sophie than I can ever let on and I am so angry, so blisteringly furious on her behalf and also at her. Always so angry at her, with her, for her.
She is beautiful and I want so much for her. She is infuriatingly hopeless at doing anything for herself. Every time I walk past what was our dining room and I see every single surface covered in her crap, when I see suitcases that were neatly stacked in the workshop scattered over the floor, when I see the mattress leant against the wall, pillows thrown where they land, makeup and girls crap spread from one end of the table to the other I am so incensed that I want, with every fibre of my being to charge in there and smash the whole room to smithereens.
For so many reasons, the obvious, that she has so little regard for us and our feelings right on to the fact that she has nowhere to go and not enough self esteem to believe she can go wherever she likes.
I am furious at every 19 year old girl with her future before her.
I loathe every younger than 19 year old girl who is happy, who is loved and safe. I hate pretty much every girl over 19 who has the same thing too.
I think I am beginning to see what is at the centre of my rage this time. Although I am unable to see what to do about it.
I want to be every body's fairy Godmother but I can't even be one girl's mother.
I want to change the world but I can't even change what is happening in my own dining room.
She tells me about a man following her in a subway at 2am......I stare at the wall.
She shows me a bite on her breast from some sick creep and I sigh.
She cries and I ignore her.
She yells and I yell back.
She leaves and I sigh with relief.
She comes back and I shut down.

She is....and I'm not.
I am all out of everything. No ideas, no energy, no hope.
I have many signs that the depression is back and it's raring to go. I don't want it here. I have been doing what I have always watched with horror in others' lives.
I spend way too much time and energy trying to get away. The problem with that is, when I get away, I have to come back and it's all still here, it isn't going anywhere unless I make it leave and I have no idea how to do that.
Back to square one then.

They say you are only as happy as your most miserable child. Indeed.

Oh and....
Why ..WHY do skinny people always go on about how unskinny they are and how so out of shape and how oh poor me, to look this way.
Look....being fat is miserable and only fat people should be able to whine about it, do not whitter on about how when you were jogging / at yoga / doing your workout you were so horrified at how fat and unfit you are/were. Bollocks.
If you jog/ go to yoga/ do workouts the chances are you are really NOT fat, not real fat, not huffing up the stairs fat, not weeping at the reflection as you walk past fat, not oh hell now this shirt is cutting the circulation to my arms off fat. Shut up and let us real fat people tell it how it is .
Skinny people get to whine about how cold they are and um, how skinny they are, shut up about being fat when you have an extra 3lbs hidden under your hair somewhere, stop stealing the stuff fat people are entitled to say but never will because if they do, someone will tell them to stop eating then lard arse.
Shut up.
( is it terribly bad to admit to how good whining is? I love it. Go me!)

Labels: miserable thoughts.

When we have so many pictures?
I think we can say that Elijah has had a happy day so far and the sun shone down ( so much that I may have a stinging and sore lobster face and the most fetching farmer's tan you ever might see)


His most precious friend Hannah.


Crisps and sunshine


and a treasure found!




Melon and brothers


new ball games


Chubby smiling babies, well just the one but he is glorious enough for several mediocre ones.


Sleeping chubby babies, 7 weeks old.


Briefly naked chubby babies


Playing in the water sprays

And watching other people having fun....


Argh! So HIGH! Sqeeeeeeeeeal!


You move...no YOU move!











There will be cake later and some snuggling on the sofa because you are still not too big for a blanket and a cuddle, even when you are five.
Happy Birthday Elijah Henry, we are so happy you are in our family. I think we didn't know what happy was until you were born.

Labels: Birthdays, Elijah Henry. happy things

I am 46. I think I may have sworn more in the first morning of my 47th year than any other morning, it wasn't going well to begin with.
At noon, or very close to then I answered the door to discover a delivery man on the doorstep.
With these...from Cathy, in Boston

And things changed.
Life got good and kept getting better, right up until H and I went for dinner and my card was refused. ( and I wasn't in the least embarrassed because I knew I had more than enough to cover our meal, I knew it was their machine but still....not fun!
I took the boys out to run and jump and they did...




















The boys went to Jordan and Mel's house while H and I went for a delicious Indian meal, we may have left them there a bit longer than it took to eat, they played on the Wii and we got them just in time to go to bed.
I am going to take Eli to the Dr, he just cries all day, every day, this is not like him, he gets a fever, pukes, cries and sleeps, all randomly and when you are used to being such a happy go lucky soul, well something isn't right. I hope he has just got very tired and needs to catch up but it all seems weird to me, so we'll see.
For now, 46 isn't bad at all. I may hang onto it for a year and see how it goes.

Labels: Birthdays, me.

I love that feeling. I loved it when I was at school and I love it now. Waiting outside the classroom and then seeing little people with bulging bags of classwork, projects, paintings. I love that the littler classes have their pictures taken right through the year and when they leave their first year of school, they have books of pictures documenting all the exciting things they did, all their friends and teachers.
I met Naughty Nathan ***** mum today, funny how she has obviously heard as much about Naughty Elijah **** as we have about Nathan, except she had to stand and TELL me all the naughty things that she believes Eli has done against her precious and innocent boy. Ptttttthhhhh. Yeah well, your kid isn't coming to Eli's party so there. I know my Eli never did throw Nathan's car over the fence, probably.
Isaac's go go crazy bones arrived today and in a perfect way I took them to school so he could play ( as we do) for an hour ...oh what joy, his face was alight as all his friends crowded 'round and asked if ALL those we HIS and WHERE did he GET THEM? He shared and I watched very closely as one little boy hid a few in his hands and nonchalantly started to wander away.
"Oh T...you weren't taking those go go bones away were you?"
"No"
"Good boy, you can stay and play but Isaac has already lost a lot of his go go bones this week and it would be very sad if that happened again, wouldn't it?"
Bless her heart, his mum frisked him as they were about to leave and had him put back the 2 that had somehow found their way into his pockets!
School is over for 6 weeks, we are all happily done with uniforms and lunch boxes.
The weather is so perfect for me at the moment, oh if we could have a few weeks of this with perhaps a smattering of rain during the night sometimes. Heaven.
If it's beautiful tomorrow I shall take the boys up onto the moors with a picnic and let them run wild, take pictures, breathe beautiful fresh air and forget I am 46.
46.
I just had a chat with Seth.
"Seth, what day is it tomorrow?"
" Thursday"
"Yes but what date?"
"24th"
"which is?" ( blood /stone springs to mind )
"Oh yes, the anniversary of me cutting the top of my finger off!"
Which is what he did right before my friends arrived for lunch on my birthday. Little snot.

Labels: good times., Seth

Now that is tired.
Just tired.
Can't stand another minute tired.
Being 4 years, 11 months and 3 days is just too hard sometimes.
When you are happily living life, taking a 3 hour nap every afternoon and suddenly someone tells you you are a big boy now and you get to go to school, every day for SEVEN hours, well you can go along with it for so long and then, after 7 months, it just gets too much and you can't. do. it. another. day.
The last week has really been too much for Eli, bless his heart he has grizzled and whined and cried and fallen over and wailed and it is all soooooooooooo awful for him.
He has a friend at school, I so wish I could write his name, and for some reason this little chap has become the bane of Eli's life. He makes us laugh every day because this little boy, who is the little boy that Eli plays with every day gets the blame for everything!
He is responsible for global warming according to Eli. Naughty bad boy. IF Eli falls over at home it is Nathans fault ( except he always used first and last name) This child is mentioned a hundred times a day
"Is it my birthday yet? Can Hannah come? Not Nathan ******! Don't let him come will you?"
" I had yoghurt for dessert at school today, Nathan ***** made me spill it"
" Nathan ***** always says bad words, he called me the F word, I didn't say any naughty words just only Nathan ***** says it"
I love Nathan ***** he is the sweetest little boy, and actually he IS a bit naughty,which ( spell check just told me that 'naughty, which' is not a word that maybe I wanted to write chattahoochee!!!)I sit opposite the school every day and I park right opposite the playground, I can see and hear Eli as he plays with Nathan and I watch his face light up every time naughty Nathan does something, he loves Naughty Nathan *****.

We're having a couple of weeks where we are having to rob Peter to pay Paul. I am always amazed at how possible it is to live on a tight budget. I am so able to do it. It is not difficult although I really don't like it.
For 2 years we have been paying towards something, moving so many times, 2 trips to America, moving again, fixing the car etc.
This week I pretty much paid everything off, the last bits of money owed for various bits and pieces. With rent due next week that means that we are counting each penny and then, after next week we are done. Home and dry ( watch some big old bill turn up now!)
I am sort of excited to try and keep living within the budget I have become used to, maybe the odd splurge as I try and vamp this house up a notch ( watch out ebay here I come, you have had a break from me the past year or so but I'm watching you right now!) but for the most part I am determined to try and keep spending low, change the way I shop and perhaps go back to that great system we had, with the different pots. When it's gone, it's gone. That worked so well and I stopped a year ago when we moved into the barn because H couldn't do the shopping, I had to drive and get it all. Now we are back in town and H walks to the shops most days, I can start up the kitty again and he can pick up the things we need. HE buys what we need, I am so sucked into the buy one get one free offers, even if we really don't need it, I stock up, buy 4, see things we don't need but oooooooooh must have it!
There are so many things we don't need. The bins tell a tale, when I see the amount of waste we throw out every day, all that packaging and greed. More and more it drives me crazy and I am becoming like a muttering old lady, tut tutting and shaking my head. It seems we are always hearing about recessions and times of hardships and I can honestly see how hard things will become if we don't start taking note of just how much we waste in our world.
It's as though none of us, in the world of wasy come easy go notice what we are doing. I go shopping and can't help but think of how much we take for granted.
H and I love to watch those shows that place families in another time and place. This week we have seen families put into homes in 1920's and wartime Britain. To see how hard it is in the beginning, to see how these people struggle and weep at how different and tough life is, but then after a few months ( I think they live this way for 3-6 months) the difference is astounding, always a change for the better in health, without all the pre packaged foods and the salt, the physical effort of hand washing sheets and walking 4 miles to and from work, beating rugs and scrubbing stone floors. Slowly we see the huge benefits of living simply. Always, at the end of the experiment the adults cry at having to go back to the modern world. The harder the trial, the greater the joy. We watched a few shows about families sent to live like pioneers in the harshest of winters. These shows are fantastic, we love them.
This weeks family had a toddler who didn't eat much but drank a lot fo milk. To see the mother crying as she discovered that she had no way of buying milk, that she had just enough money to pay the rent and only 5pence left, a bunch of carrots for the whole family was 10 pence and the travelling grocer had sold the last of the milk. The family lived 4 miles from the nearest store and 4 miles from the pits where the men and boys worked every day, the men came home tired and soaked from the walk in the rain to find dinner was a watery soup with a few carrots.
Such hardships compared to anything we experience these days.
The strange thing is that the families were happy, the communities pull together,the laughter and fun is incredible. No TV just a wireless, no toys or play stations, no laptops ( oh OK that's enough, I change my mind......) Families spend time together, the children become calmer, more obedient without all the insanity and chemicals of today.
Any day now I am going to join a commune and wear cheesecloth, grow my own cabbages and sing Kumbya. Not.
I do hope that I can take on some of the things I think will help us as a family though.
I know I am rambling and not saying what I am thinking clearly. I'm not sure I am even thinking clearly, just that somehow I am restless and need to shake this old house up a bit.
Ha...could have said that in the first place and saved myself a few rambling paragraphs.
Also, I really love the sunshine.
The end.

Labels: mumbo jumbo

2 more days of school. I feel I am ready for the 'break' I love not having a rigid routine, no packed lunches to make, no uniforms to iron, no having to be here and go there at certain times.
I don't like the chaos though. Especially trapped in this house, I dread it. I have been pining for the barn and it's acre of land, for the wilderness and the trampoline. Fr days of not going anywhere but out in the garden....friends spending the day and having feasts outside.
Oh well, tough nuts, we're here and we have to come up with a plan.
I do have a plan of sorts. More and more I am horrified by the waste in our lives, the endless shopping and consuming of crappy foods.
We eat so may crisps and snacks in this house, no matter how many I buy and hide, they get eaten at a ridiculously fast and greedy rate and I am so sick of it.
So, today I decided that I am not buying any easy snacks in the 6 weeks we have no school. That sounds like an easy thing but I don't think it will be. When the boys are at home, they graze all day long, especially Isaac.
The thing is all of us really love good food, really good food. We all love fruit and vegetables, the boys would choose olives and pickles given the choice. So I am going to give them the choice.
For 6 weeks we will have a fridge stocked with carrots and cucumbers, grapes, melon, apple slices, strawberries.
They can eat cheese cubes and pineapple. Red and green peppers, beetroot.
I know that they will be completely happy, which makes me feel bad for opting for the easy route most days. It's so quick to throw crisps and a cheese string in their lunch box. Who wants to stand for hours chopping peppers and carrots when their are school shirts to iron? So, while we don't have shirts and schedules, we can have time to try a new road.
I am bored with the shopping too, wandering around Asda buying the same old stuff week in week out, I shall try the markets and stalls, buy fresh and let the boys chop and scrape.
I have been so tired lately, pathetically weary, waking up tired, sleeping more than I ever have.
Sleeping is great but being awake and having energy to enjoy being awake is great too.
I am nearly 46.....somehow that number bothers me. I remember being that bothered by becoming 30. Ha!
Imagine being worried about being 30. A baby.
So I must make myself think about how, in many years time, 46 will seem young and fresh to me. I shall grasp the joy of being 46. When you think of the alternative...being 46 is pretty great!
I feel a bizarre kind of excitement about a change, we are all in a grizzly rut lately, I know the boys are ready to have a change. They are so grumpy and whiney it's untrue.
Poor Eli is on his last legs, he falls over fresh air and by 6 o'clock every evening he is so floor flingingly fed up with the world. This evening at bath time, brought forward a bit because he was falling asleep at 6pm, we had Little Richard blaring on H's super duper bribe iPod dock deal, we were dancing and washing and singing and he climbed on the side of the bath and somehow he fell and bit through his bottom lip, 3 teeth went right through. Poor little boy. Try being beside yourself tired, so ready to sleep but can't suck that beloved thumb because your lip bleeds every time you try. Big old fatter than usual kissy lip, leaky brown eyes plopping tears like nobody's business and the world is just a rotten old place to be.
He is fast asleep and looking comfy. He was awake again in the night. I can't work out what is going on with him, still happy enough in the day but having trouble sleeping and fractious at night. He needs a few weeks of taking it easy and having a nap with mummy in the afternoon. My littlest boy. I cant believe he is almost 5. Still a baby to me though.
The weather is glorious here at the moment, how I hope it stays like this for saturday so that Eli can have his picnic in the park with friends and all his cousins and a high school musical cake. Please don't let it rain.

Isaac came home from school today with 2 go go crazy bones. He went to school with 23 and a new case for them. I want to storm into that school and find the snotty little oiks that took his bones and make them cry. He seemed unconcerned and said he swapped them, trouble is the revolting brats didn't give him anything in return. When I think of H and his sojourns to W.H Smiths and the excitement when we got some go go crazy bones, whooppie!
Ack, H says it is a lesson learned and when his stash from ebay arrives ( hopefully after school finishes so we don't have to endure weeping because he is NOT taking them to school to give to little shites that take advantage of his not being able to say no to them) he will have a new stash to play with and they will NOT be taken anywhere that some horrible Henry can take them away.
H and I are good for each other because we always seem to balance each other out, I am ready to punch any kid who looks like they might be thinking about Isaac and his crazy bones, H calmly says that Isaac now knows that he either has to say no, keep his toys at home or lose them.
Another time, H will be about to blow and I will tut and say no big deal, let it go.
Heaven help the world if we ever get up in arms about the same thing, perish the thought.

Gemma commented that H looks like Pop Larkin in Darling buds of May, indeed he does! How marvellous. I loved that show and it is my idea of a heavenly life. Glorious Pop with his love for his family and adoration for Ma, who is twice his size, country life with their children and chickens in the garden. If H and his sideburns are to appear like anyone, I shall vote for Pop Larkin everytime!
I wish that would come back on, on sunday evenings, from start to finish. I might try and find the DVDs because I really think that was my favourite show in the whole world ever.
H is about ready to lose the sideburns, as soon as we have taken a glorious picture akin to the one he has of great great grandpa Greenhaulgh, they can go. I will be happy to see all of his lovely face but somehow the whole eccentric idea of them has been very touching and along with his sandals and socks and his floppy hat, he is altogether quite delicious.

Did I tell you about my dream? I keep meaning to.
I once had a dream ( when pregnant with Isaac) that I could see 2 little boys playing and another watching, the one on his own said that he was going to be a brother to the other 2 and that he couldn't wait to be with them. A 'man' told him that he wasn't going to be with them now, that the family had chosen not to have more children and so he would be going to another family. He cried and cried and said that he had chosen THAT family and that those 2 boys were his brothers, he begged to be with that family.
I knew then that H and I were to have another baby and every day I am glad that we made that decision. He is our joy.
Anyway, 2 weeks ago I had another dream, just as vivid.
I was walking along a street and saw a small boy sitting on a wall, he was looking at the ground and was swinging his legs. I walked past and felt that he was waiting for someone, that maybe he had been left behind or forgotten. I took a few steps back and asked him if he was waiting for someone.
"yes, I am waiting for you"
"For me?"
"Yes, I have been waiting a long time."
"what's your name?"
"Solomon"
Well, well.
Unless there is a miracle, I won't be having another baby. I am sure that I had all the babies that were waiting for me.
I was stunned for a day or two about this dream because it was so real.
Now I feel OK with it because lately, since Eli has been at school and no longer a baby, I have been thinking a lot about the babies I lost. Especially the one that I lost right before Eli. I was so sad when we lost that baby, I was so sure that it was meant to be, that this baby was the one that had cried in my dream, I couldn't understand why, if this was a good thing to do, the right thing, to have this baby that we had no idea how we would manage to look after ( H had no job, we had no home, were about to move back in with H's dad) I couldn't grasp why we would then lose the baby.
I got my answers, I learned that sometimes a baby needs only to get a body, no matter how small and that's it, that life is complete, sometimes the baby doesn't need to be born into this world to fulfill it's purpose. I believe that we will raise those babies, we will be a family, just not here, not now.
I wonder if my dream was that baby, telling me that he is waiting and just letting me know that he will be mine.
Solomon is a pretty good name, fits with the other boys names too and is certainly a name I would use.
If you ever come here and read a long running sentence about how even though H had a vasectomy and even though I am so OLD and even though this was not planned or even thought about but OH MY LIFE I am pregnant.....the baby will be called Solomon, unless it is a girl in which case she will be called um.......who knows, I will be in some lunatic asylum rocking back and forth just at the thought of having a teenaged girl in my 60's. I am pretty sure her name could be anything, I won't be in any state to choose it.

Labels: rambling

So today was one of those days that was all fluffy and dreamlike, where it all seems to have worked out well, to my good. Life is fine.
Dan is down and he and Jordan said that today, dinner was up to them, they shopped and were going to cook, no need to lift a finger and my goodness, they were true to their word. They roped Sophie in as kitchen runner ( for a fee you understand!) she was to clear and run and be general dogsbody because chefs do not do the menial business. Oh no.
It went beautifully,

One chef,

two chefs

and a runner.


It was so good.
We ate, little people at little tables,



Big people at the big table



We had good conversation


And we had 2 roast chickens, one citrus and one garlicky, roast potatoes, honey roasted parsnips, broccoli, swede and carrots mashed, we had stuffing balls ( sausage meat, sage and onion and raisins) gravy and for dessert we had Lemon Possit, with cherries on the top. Does it all sound too marvellous for words, well it was. I tell you what. Delicious.
I felt a little giddy. I am so used to lovely family gatherings, living at grandpa's house we were always bursting at the seams with cousins and inlaws, friends and neighbours, file 'em in and fill 'em up, that's how we like it. My mum does a great family do, all the kids and grandkids. Heaven on earth I tell you.
What was strange and kept making me feel a bit spaced out and freaky was that I was the grandma, I was the matriarch, the person...the hub.
ME!
That'll make you feel old and also more than a little special and important.
Have no fear though because there is always a 'but'.
The 2 chefs? Totally ruined, completely precious and used to having some poor little school leaver as their pot washer. Now the plan was that Sophie be that person and she did indeed earn her money moving tables, fetching and carrying but we, H and I have a reputation ( he more than I) for being particular about how dishes are washed and being swished about in a sink of of tepid greasy water and then flung willy nilly into the drainer? Won't work in this house, so because the thought of dishes after a roast dinner is enough to stop H enjoying said meal, I said I would do the washing up today .
When I cook, especially a roast, I wash up as I go, I use one saucepan and cook 2 vegetables with it ( boil potatoes, steam broccoli) Chefs, used to having a lackey to wash up, well they could care less. Make a sauce...oh pan isn't big enough let's use this one...uh oh still not big enough. Can you see where this is going?
14 plates.
7 saucepans.
5 roasting dishes.
4 platters,
3 jugs,
2 mixing bowls,
16 glasses,
Every single whisk, fork, knife, spoon in the kitchen.
Sophie cleared the table and piled it all...ALL in the sink and drainer, like some hideous kind of monument to cooking.
It took me a loooooong time to do all that washing up but it was worth it. Today was such a gift.
Oh of course, while the cooking was being taken care of, grandma got to take pictures....






( I know that's the header picture too but it may not always be so it gets to be in here too, could it be any more perfect with that little curled lip? )
Today was a good day, a beautiful day.
Eli is sick again which is annoying, I wish he could just get well and stay that way, nothing too drastic we hope but the endless sickness that goes and comes back and an ear ache to boot.
Apart from that it has been a glorious day.
We love those. A lot.

Labels: Happy places, happy stuff

Do people read blogs on saturday? I don't think so, people ( other than me, for me saturday is like every other day but a bit longer and louder) don't seem to write blogs on saturday because I suspect they are out having fun and living it up. Me, I manage to do all that by 10am and the rest of the day is mine to whine about. So much for that song " Saturday is a special day" It is my arse.
So, if people don't read blogs on saturday I should be safe having a good old moan, vent, swear ( should the fancy so take me)
It's sunny..which is a great thing, we love that, sunshine and all. we had plans for today, Dan is here, well I say here, at Jordan's house which is understandably more exciting than mine, he has a shiny new BIG TV which as well know is one of my mortal and material desires, a great big TV, side by side fridge freezer ( check!) and a car that is new enough that it doesn't smell of wet dogs. I have extended the list of requirements for the car, because if you are going to dream you should do it big, so, no wet dog smell, doors that lock, full seat belts in the back and good on petrol. Leather seats would be great too, not essential but oh how wonderful that would be.
So, Dan is down the road, Jordan's house is very very close to ours, which is a great and beautiful thing. Usually. I am humbled and touched that my grown children love me so much. I am. Yep.
Sophie loves me so much lately that she is nearby very often, talking at me, about money usually. I might have been forced to wave 2 unopened utility bills in her face just now and told her that if I don't have the money to pay THEM why would she continue to think I have money to give her to go out? She still kept asking, as if, rather like I used to think when I was SEVEN, if she keeps asking, then surely answer will change. She even woke me from a nap this afternoon ( And truly, does this girl not know me AT ALL? Even when I told her through gritted teeth in a hissing voice that this had better be important, on a level with ' the house is on fire and I have rescued your young and dependant children, called the fire brigade and am now here to make sure you leap to safety' she STILL said 'oh, no but can you lend me £10 seeing as you have told everyone else NOT to?' Wouldn't any rationally thinking person think..hmmmmm she has told everyone not to lend me money and then just be annoyed and give up?...why does HER mind tell her hmmmmm she has told everyone not to lend me money, that means I should wake her up and ask HER for some.)
I think my kids have my blog address, they keep saying things that are on here. If you do, oh fruit of my womb....and you read it, don't whine. I don't want to hear about it, if you read it, it's true. If you don't like it..stop reading.This is where I come to unload my head and stop myself saying it to your faces or smacking you in the head, or losing mine. This blog is your salvation as well as mine.....I wish you wouldn't read it but if you do, don't mention it to me. I don't want to know and I certainly don't want your opinions. I love you though.

Also, if I am asleep, leave me that way. Unless the house is on fire or you win the lottery.

Isaac had a party invite today to a great and fun place, with his best friends and we were excited about it, we being H and I. Isaac?
"I don't want to go. Shall I not go, I think I hate that place"
So we did all the talking and the what funs, all the well just see how it is and then we can talk about what you want to do's.
We went and he said that he would stay if I sat at a table, with the shoes under the chair and promised not to move at all.
3 hours or was it 2, who knows it felt like 5. HE had such fun though that he was pouring sweat and OH JOY if they didn't give out free packs of CRAZY BONES, which made it all perfect.
I find that the older he gets the harder I find his inability to speak to people like his friends mums, when he was tiny it could be passed off as shyness but now he is nearly 7 and when asked a question as simple as 'what would you like to eat' by someone he has seen and known for several years, when he turns his back and stares at me in panic, well it feel sso much worse than when he was 4 or 5. Having to gently explain why this big boy can't stay at a party without his mum or dad right there is getting tougher, I have no idea why it's hard for me because everyone is the epitome of kindness and understanding, when I mention why he does these things, it is almost always the case that I can see a light go off in their heads and they will then say "Oh..I SEE! " and then I can see that they are putting it all together and 'getting it'
When he is asked a question and with his back to them he will give me the answer, I feel myself sighing a bit. When we leave and I ask him if he wants to say thankyou and he looks at me and mouths "you say it" I feel awkward, for him as well as me because I actually think he wants to say it himself.
But when I look at him and look past all that and see who he really is, well none of it matters, not even a bit. He is breaking boundaries his aspergers set and taking such huge stride. He is so beautiful and such a kind and gentle soul. He is quite perfect.

This boy is my joy. I adore him.

I have no idea what these little boys found so funny, the concert hadn't started yet they were just lining up on stage ready to sing.


He is such a little chap next to his friends.



Happy face almost all the time, day in, day out.

Labels: Elijah

*sigh*






*sigh*




Deep breath in and



*sigh*




I think that's it really, just sort of blah. *sigh*.
Actually things are fine. ( sod off jinxy fairies)
When it comes to blogging I have some funny stuff I could write but won't because I do ( believe it or not) have limits and am aware of people reading that know me and see me often....and there are some things that you should probably never have to picture in people you see often doing, especially if you attend church with them or are related. It is only kind to withhold some details of one's life. Just know that I snort every time I think of it, too bad. ( when I reread this is years to come, I am going to be so frustrated that I didn't write what is so funny!)
I have a sweet, typical of H tale but am still reeling a little from the day after the last time I waxed lyrical about how perfect H is.......oh what the hell, here we go.
There is a new craze in Devon, Go Go crazy bones.
Did you ever see such a money spinning rip off piece of nonsense? H and I don't go in for fads and blatant day light robbery scammy things. Until now. Isaac loves them he NEEEEEEEEDS them and he plays with other kids, even ones he doesn't know, because he LOVES these pieces of plastic with no particular shape or form. Neither Seth or ( nor?) Isaac have ever been at all interested in any kind of craze, they could care less, it is so exciting to H and I to see them be excited and want to join in, we are hopelessly hooked on encouraging them this once.
99p for 3 ( or 4) and so hard to get hold of that the boys, after H had been to the 2 stores that sell them, every day for nearly 2 weeks, had the grand total of 2 packs each, loved and guarded and taken to school every day to play with but not for keepsies.

I began to loathe children with special little carry cases filled to the brim with go go crazy bones.

I had the brain wave to look on ebay and was horrified to see what parents will pay for these things, you know I love the idea of Isaac having a stash of these things but a) I know those buggers are going to hurt when I tread on them in the dark ( and you know I will) b) as soon as I hand over stupid amounts of money they will stop liking them and c) I am so tight fisted over some things, fads are certainly on that list.
Then....I thought that maybe the US is ahead of us in this and there may be kids in the states that DID talk their parents into handing over enormous amounts of money for enormous stashes of plasticy blobs and then got bored with them. YES! 200 for £15 including shipping, SCORE.
Thing is, school may be out by the time they arrive, which won't phase Isaac a bit because when he loves something, he loves it and H battles with him and the go go's and Jordan challenges him too. When I showed him ( before clicking on buy this now) to make sure that these were the RIGHT crazy bones, they looked right to me but to him? Never could tell. Well he said yes, they were the right ones and started naming them.....then he said "Oh, that will be my birthday present, COOL!" ( yes, indeed, score twice!)
H is at times, like a terrier with a rat and so as is his now usual routine, he walked the boys to school ( close to a mile) walked back into town, went to WH Smiths and asked about the go go CBs and hoorah! Snagged 2 packs each for the boys..he then walked back to school and put the packs into their lunch boxes so they would find them when they ate lunch. If he doesn't make me get all weepy at times, well he does, so that's that.
Dan is coming tomorrow, we love him being here, as loud and as farty as he is, we adore him being around. Full house with Sophie and Dan and 3 little people around, I kind of like it, in small doses!
Oh lurking people who live here, we are having a party in the park for Eli's birthday on saturday 26th. The park by the school, where the swans are, you know the one. Starting around noon and ending when we just can't stand anymore.
Bring all those babies ( Sammy, Joe, Jamie, Cobi, ) Does Dawn read this? Nathan and Darcy....the more the merrier. There will be picnic and cake, maybe even ice cream and pop. Please let there be sunshine!
This is our crazy time...3 July birthdays ( me older than last year, Eli 4 and Jordan 21), 4 August ones ( H, even older than me, Isaac 7, Seth 8 and Dan 23) we end August with a sigh of relief and then start working on christmas.
I hate parties, really hate them unless they are outside and consist of nothing but running around like lunatics ( children that is) and eating from paper plates that can be thrown away and forgotten about, handy then that we all ( but Sophie) have summer birthdays.
I can't quite believe that July is coming to an end. This year has flown by without me noticing much of it, must open my eyes and start taking notice!

Labels: H and just stuff.

As I said yesterday, Elijah is my normal kid, absolutely regular in every way. No eccentricities there, nope not a one.



Don't you just love the way he looks at the teacher he sees copying him as if he is insane? As soon as he thinks he is no longer being watched..off he goes again and if I may say so , so beautifully in time with the music.
He makes my heart sing every day.

Labels: Elijah Henry. Aged 4 and 11 months.

Today has been an incredibly emotional day, all day long it seems I have been filling up, swallowing lumps in my throat and seeing a bigger picture.
We got the boy's school reports today, once a year we get a report from teachers telling us how they have done in this latest school year. Throughout the year we can meet with teachers and are always welcomed, they will discuss and explain but only once do we get a written report.
Today was the day. Seth's report is rarely a surprise, we know he is clever, we know he doesn't have any trouble with the work. His report today did surprise me though, in that it is positively dripping with comments like
'He always behaves well and is a pleasure to teach"
and " From the moment Seth walks through the classroom door, his attitude is positive and he is a delightful member of the classroom, he works hard and is always eager"
Now, I have always been sure that Seth would never speak to his teachers the way he speaks to me, he doesn't speak to H the way he speaks to me, I appreciate Seth's wit and quick retorts but in all honestly I can tell you that this child will argue black is white. For fun.
We all know what he is capable of but my goodness if it isn't like pulling teeth to get him to actually DO anything ( that he doesn't love doing) from the time he could, Isaac has been Seth's lacky. To our astonishment he has run and been at Seth's beck and call without a murmur, Seth is asked to do something...Isaac does it, without question. 18 months ago we realised that this was not due to some feeling of inferiority on Isaac's behalf, more like a desire to see a job well done, he likes things done well, Seth does things so shoddily and so half heartedly and so painfully slowly that it hurts Isaac, he would rather step to it and just get it done, the right way than witness the torture that Seth causes when asked to move or help out in any menial task.
We saw that Isaac was not a dim servant when Seth, being a whole 3 feet from a bin, called Isaac a good 12 feet over to him saying " put that in the bin Ides!"
Isaac took the crumpled token and said " You are one lazy git" and took the rubbish to the bin.
Everything Seth has done, Isaac has completed at the same time..one year younger than Seth. Potty training, same time. Seth was 3, Isaac 2. Throwing away the bottles, same time, Seth 3, Isaac 2.
Seth read at 4....Isaac silently watched, took note, learned and read.
Isaac can ride a 2 wheeler bike, Seth no. Seth will not even try to ride a bike because he isn't sure he will be able to do it well, immediately. Seth does not like to fail or appear to be anything but perfect at a task, mediocrity is not Seth's bag.
So, I am thrilled to read how co-operative he is, how enthusiastic and willing. I love to see that is capable of working in a team, not always being the boss, that at school he is, quite frankly a star.
He had his sports day today and I gulped my way through the whole thing. He was SO keen to start and long before his classmates were ready he was in starters position, waiting for the off.
He was totally oblivious to where everyone else was in the race, so intent was he on doing everything perfectly. He didn't see, or care that most of the other kids were way ahead because they were dropping the beanbags and who cares?? RUN...WIN!!!
He ran his races with such complete dedication and enjoyed every one.











Then we had Isaac's report and WHOOHOO they are so thrilled with him.
When we read why they are so thrilled with him, we feel the need to smash our head against the nearest wall in frustration because, they seem to writing about some poor little imbecile that HOORAH can 'run into a space, change direction and speed' and 'catch balls of varying sizes and shapes kick a ball to another player!' ( Yeay! Go ISAAC, whoot....oh, hang on weren't you doing that at 2 1/2? Yes, I think you were!)
'He has mastered the art of reading but unfortunately, because he lacks language skills, he is unable to recount what he has read, he can answer an uncomplictaed question as long sa it does not require much speaking' ( which actually means he lacks the CONFIDENCE to speak, not the launguage skills. This boy can ( and does) read SCRIPTURE and tell us what it means.
WHO IS THIS THEY TALK ABOUT? Not my Isaac, no way my Isaac.
We all know that he cannot speak outloud, that his head won't let him talk when he wants to. We all know that he CAN talk though, we know that he understands and remembers EVERYTHING.
I did love " Isaac has emerged from his Crysalis this year" though.
I am going to invite his new teacher to come to our house and watch him, talk to him, see him. I cannot allow him to go another year with his teacher thinking he is a sweet little dimwit. The other problem is that he seems to go into the class Seth just left, I defy anyone NOT to compare them. Clever Seth who has been talking like a regular person since he was 10 months, with his super quick wit, his ability to say the right thing at the right time. Isaac with his silence, his sponge like mind that remember what goes where, who said what, names, places. With his huge brown eyes and his complete disinterest in what people think.
The little boy, who will ask for pancakes for breakfast and when we go into the kitchen will have put out, in order everything we need to make them, from ingredients to utensils, in a row, in the order we will need them.


And Elijah, splendid, regular, delicious Elijah Henry, at the end of his first stint in real school.



His report reads just like it should. He has reached every step expected of him, he is sweet, quiet ( wow!) he gets distracted in a group situation and needs bringing back to task. He is just a glorious boy of nearly 5 ( in 11 days!)

Then, as I left the supermarket today I saw, to my complete delight, a friend from church who has 4 children under 6 and who is pregnant with her 5th baby. Her 4th baby, also called Seth, is just a year old and a month or so ago, he was diagnosed with Hepatoblastoma, a 10cm tumour on his liver.
There she was, home for a short stay, from hospital. They are in a children's hospital a few hours away, the whole family staying in a Clic house, Seth is on a short break from his chemo and there they were, looking beautiful and strong. This little boy is astounding the doctors by not losing his hair, by sailing through his chemo and watching that tumour shrink. Early days but so far he is doing just great and it was so good to see his tiny face. He has lost so much weight because initially the tumour was pressing on his stomach and now from the chemo he is sick and vomiting ( though not so far on the latest round.
He has a facebook page that would ( I am sure ) welcome supporters. Such a journey ahead of him, this tumour is an evil one, it is right now inoperable but it IS shrinking which means that in the future, not too far away, he could be facing a big operation that will try to remove that monster.
So, all in all a happy day, so busy and full of good things.
I love having my blog so that I can record days like this.

Labels: England. Seth, Isaac and Elijah. Happy things.

On the way home today from the park and a car boot sale.....


Little narrow roads.


Dung for sale.....I love this place!


Eccentric locals.

We have just about everything here.

Even a little bit of Boston.







Oh, on a different note.
Giving Seth his dessert last evening.
H to Seth " Thankyou mummy!"
Me to Seth " Seth????"
Seth without looking up but nodding his head in H's direction
"Oh, I had my servant say it for me".

Labels: England. Seth

So, going to Boston and knowing that it is in New England, I didn't give much thought to why it is called New England apart from a little inward *sigh*. Oh dear, New England...as if. Nothing wrong with the old one..trust America to want to copy, not that they could of course, THIS is England, the old one, the proper one, the RIGHT and only one. I used to think ( only ever in my head though because how RUDE would that have been, to think that out loud? Also, you would be shocked to hear what other inner thoughts I have, they shock ME sometimes, I tell you.)
So, I arrive in Boston, in the afternoon, in late June and it is raining, the way I have only ever seen it rain in ENGLAND..hey, imagine that! Sideways rain that hammers down and darkens the whole sky, there was lightening too but it was more American, in its zig zaggy fork type style as opposed to our more flash in the sky sheet kind.
We drove to the hotel along roads that were remarkably like English roads....just 2 lanes and winding and hither and thither..none of your LA type 12 lanes, straight lines, blocks and tidy. Blimey.
That is the first time ever, while being a passenger in a car in the States, that I have ever been overcome by the " WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!" feeling, because the roads were like ours and OH NO!! That car is coming right AT ME! Goodness.
Saturday we went, um..somewhere, after the duck tour. Shopping and well, for heavens sake, if I didn't have the most fabulous time, while all the time thinking to myself " well, no point trying to sell coming to England to Cathy because this is IT, only bigger, with more shops and refills ( my obsession with refills is actually quite funny because I never actually take a refill, the one HUGE drink is usually more than enough for me but the very thought that should I so desire, it is there, for free....fabulous)
I walked through streets and shops and cobbly pavements and thought " there, see. Al this time I imagined taking Cathy and friends around Covent garden and here we are, if they came to me they would just be thinking, " This it? We have all this, only it costs less and is down the road and yes, we have refills."
Darn it all, although I didn't see any castles and we have those, all over.
I didn't see cigarette butts all over the floor either come to think of it. Or people pushing babies while dragging on a cigarette.
So, New England ( the part that I saw anyway,) is remarkably like the old one, with better bits. Who'd have thought it?
What about Old England,that despite scathing comments ( that are absolutely in the category or ' I can say it, you can't') I adore. I am incredibly proud to be English and although I can see it's many faults, I wouldn't choose to live anywhere else in the world. I particularly love the part of England where I live, dear Devon.
I sometimes think that this part of the world is all on it's own. SO gentle and slow, so sleepy and glorious. Everything I could ever want is right here. Cities, history, great shopping, countryside, beauty, castles, electricity ( yes, honestly) the beach ( although lately not the weather to enjoy them) fields, and since living in California, I still, all these years on, get enormous joy from seeing our fields, with all the grass and cows and sheep eating the grass, everywhere I saw in Ca the cows were in blocks of dry mud, black looking earth and fences, and dear heaven what IS that smell with the cows over there? We lived in Hemet for a year and driving from LA to Hemet, if I slept in the car I would wake up knowing we were almost home because OH that STENCH!! Cows over here just potter about in buttercup fields and if walking, you step in a cow pat, no biggie, its just grassy poop, no smell ( much)
Don't try and do anything if you are in a hurry in Devon. It won't work, you'll get an ulcer.
Shopping? Give yourself time to stand in line and learn all about Doreens ( or Dor, always the names are shortened Dor, Glor, Hels, Jules, Caff, ) father / mother/ next door neighbours cat who was awful poorly last week and bleddy 'ell, you'll never guess what! It is a fact of life, we don't do hurry in Devon. Driving along the roads takes patience too, every few hundred yards will have you stopping, pulling over, allowing another car to go by, looking at the driver and waving back after they wave a thankyou.
You may well get stuck behind a load of cows going to be milked, nothing to do but sit and wait and enjoy the view because even the cows don't hurry. Nope. Not a care in the world.
People know people, walking through town is always filled with waving and 'alright?' Except for me because I am in my own little world and never see anyone, I wander aimlessly along with my head deep in thought and see not a soul, if you see me and I ignore you......I'm not ignoring you I am thinking ( or talking myself through being out and not forgetting and remembering where the car is etc)
I haven't seen anywhere near enough of England, as the boys get older, H and I are determined to see more of it. We want to start showing them the castles, the history, take them to where their ancestors came from. H's family are from the Manchester area, they sailed to America as pioneers and we aim to show them from where they sailed.
Did you ask for more pictures? I'm sure you did. Here they are, Cowboys. Glorious ones.





Oh but wait.....look......


ooooooh, nice. Tomorrow it may even have food in it and then I will show you the inside, because my life is just SO exciting!

Labels: England. Just stuff

So, in the comments, Elise asked to hear more about Sophie, Jordan and Mel.
Elise...were you kidding? Was there a smidgen of sarcasm in that request because, really...I feel as though I have exhausted every single chance to even mention Sophie's name before people click away in terror/ boredom. Although, boring and Soph? Not usually used in the same sentence. Also, just as I begin to think that probably we have run out of Sophie stories....yeay! She gives me more! We will never run out, ever.
I am going to take this opportunity ( because obviously I didn't learn ANYTHING yesterday) to rave positively about the girl. I squeezed the breath out of her earlier in the kitchen ( don't you love my attention to detail? It's important that you know every detail ) because today she was just delicious.
She astounds me almost every day in one way or another, she makes my heart leap into my throat so often it's terrifying.
Like today...
"Mum, just so you know ( uh oh..please don't tell me) When I was out last night, I was talking to my friend and this random bloke walked past and then he came back and bit my boob ( ~YES!!! BIT HER BOOB!) I couldn't believe he did that so I pushed my face into his and said 'what did you just do' and he laughed and so I punched him hard in his face HA!"








OMG.







Are you still here? Are you up off the floor yet? She said this in exactly the same voice as she would have said " Oh, hey guess what? Tomatoes are on sale this week"
And then she showed me her boob..and it has a black, BLACK bruise on it.
Don't ask me what I said to her in reply because I haven't answered her yet. I just got my breath back. In a normal world wouldn't we be demanding names and places and witnesses and calling police and hit men or something? I think we would. Sophie though....agh.....she does things that are abnormal and accepts things that are way abnormal and she seems so fine with it all. She has been hit, by grown men more times that any other woman I have ever known and she doesn't flinch. I try and try to tell her that this is NOT acceptable, that she must never allow this and I have been witness to her being hit and I stopped it, immediately and made it clear that it is never acceptable, I have also seen and therefore understood why the situation arose. I have yet to meet anyone who can incite violence the way she can and I wish more than anything that I knew how to turn off, in her head, whatever it is that makes her feel that goading to the point of no return and make her see that doing that will always end in her hurting more than the other person.

( ETA....we had a chat when she came home, I asked her who was with her when this man did this and told her that what he did was sexual assault and that she should have screamed her head off ( she was in a nightclub!!) had him arrested and that she should be sure to know that no-one EVER should get away with what he did. She said he was drunk and told her he did it because he thought it would be FUNNY!?!? How old do people get before they think nightclubs are stupid ( again with the voice of my mother telling me inanimate objects are incapable of stupidity but hey ho, old habits die hard)

She is one of the most generous people I know, unable to keep a penny in her pocket, she doesn't care where the money goes and she never ever keeps what she has to herself.
She is able to laugh at herself more than any woman I know too.

She has gained weight since she stopped taking drugs ( YEAY! I never cease to get a huge flip of tummy and heart joy whenever I say that she stopped taking drugs) she is still very beautiful but considerably sturdier than I have ever seen her, when I remember that stick insecty, dirty footed shell that I sent to work with Dan, to see her wobbly bits and love handles fills me with happiness and relief.
Because she is so willing to show and unashamed of her body, more often than not I find myself saying that more is definitely a good idea when it comes to clothes.
This evening she put on some white trousers to go out in and was trying on tops to wear with it. I suggested in my tactful and gently maternal way that a longer shirt would be better.
"why?" she said with a coquettish turn of her head?
"Oh because, well, those trousers are just a tiny bit tight and so a short belly revealing top would perhaps accentuate any parts you may feel less confident about" ( or maybe, "because those pants are tight and if you wear one of those belly flopping numbers that flab is so going to hang out for all to see")
"Oh, Ok then" she said and off she went.
Moments later, as we sat down to eat, she came into the room wearing the whitey tightey pants and a very tight, quite short V necked T-shirt. She stood with her back slumped and her belly flopping, bosoms bursting ( oh dear, that description so just opened me up to pervy googlers) and asked if this was a good top to wear. Then she let me take pictures ( because she really IS a good sport)

She is quite beautiful and NOT fat, no-one is saying she is fat, she is just chunkier than before and will not accept that larger clothes would be fine, still beautiful.

When I stopped laughing, gathered myself together she reappeared and Oh! how I wish I could post the pictures I took then because there she was, in the doorway, wearing ( I say that loosely though what she was wearing was anything but loose.) a sort of G.I. outfit that was certainly 2-3 sizes too small, her bottom was visible, the 2 buttons it had down the front were gaping and her boobs, well for heavens sake, they were making a valiant and almost successful bid for freedom. She stood in the most provocative pose whilst murmuring " How about this?"
And then she let me take more pictures that I am unable to post because she is my daughter and there are such freaks in this world. To me, the pictures are hysterical, to many they would be anything but. Enough said.
In the midst of writing that, I had a 2 hour intermission while I arranged and then had delivery of the poshest , most glorious, shiny new fridge freezer, of the American side bu side kind, courtesy of the restaurant that is no more. Given to Jordan and then given to me because he couldn't fit it in his house or sell it and so yippee, Mother gets the goods and H is cleaning and filling and making strokable the new appliance heretofore only ever dreamed about, it is replacing one that was left festering in the devils own filth pit we used to live in, cleaned and disinfected and prayed over, we made do and were grateful...now it is banished to the back yard until we can get it dumped. Oh Joy.
I know Elise asked for Jordan and Mel news as well ( some people are so greedy, Sophie is always good for a full post of he own I would say.) But now I must shower or go and shop for fridgy type foods either or or, who knows.
Mayhaps J and M will get tomorrows post or maybe it will just be a post with 37 pictures of my new freezer because it makes me happy. Oh glorious shiny stainless steel appliance of mine.
The suspense will be good for you, meanwhile please feel free to leave more ideas because it is wonderful not to have to think.
This invitation is open to those lurkers that google tells tales on and lets me know are out there reading EVERY day and never leaving a comment.....go on, be daring and show your lovely selves, tell me your inner most desires ( of a blogging nature) Very good.

Labels: Sophie and stuff

Oh my, that cracked me up, H's mum calls him Howie and if ever there was a man less like a Howie then H would be him ( he / it?!)
I said before that I met him online, on LDS singles dot com, can you believe? I had no idea about computers, none, couldn't type to save my life ( yes, I know, fellow chatters some things never change but you do manage to get my drift as a rule I think) Friends at church were messaging suave Americans day on and day out and I couldn't understand what the deal was. After all going out to dinner one evening we went back to Lin's house and I asked her to show me what this newfangled contraption was all about and where all these irresistible men with high morals and Godly attributes were.
Well, my eyes! She logged on and began to run through the thousands of men, one after another while we all sat saying "oooh, he's nice"
"Yikes, sad hair"
"Argh, no! he may be a mormon but that one looks like a murderer, in fact I swear I saw that mug shot on Crime watch just last week"
"Oh for heavens sake! He's trying to meet woman why is he wearing a tank top?"
" Nope"
"ewwwwww"
"Hmmmmmm"
and I went home.
My sister however had had her interest tweeked and she decided that she was getting in on that act indeed she was.
Anyway we drove back and forth to dads house typing very slowly to her men of choice and i went nowhere fast.
Eventually, one day as I was chatting ( in real life, in a kitchen as it happens) to my mum, she told me to sign myself up. For one month. YeGads.
I did it purely because she never tells us to do anything and this was so extraordinary that I did it out of sheer obedience.
I signed up for one month, put my picture on ( any old one that mum just happened to have that didn't make me look to gormless or startled) and that was that. June 26th 1999.
The next day I got a message, drove to dad's, saw a picture of the smiliest face under a bald old head and instantly sent a message back, dear smiley H.
We messaged back and forth until the July 4th holiday weekend and then I called him.
We spoke every day for several hours, laughed and learned and talked ( and therefore ran out of anything to ever say again, hence his now rationed 7 words every 3 days)
In September I flew to visit him. Me, I flew, on my own to L.A. On my own, to stay at his HOUSE ( no meeting in a wide open public place for me, no fly across the ocean and stay with him. So sensible.)
I got to LAX and nervously went through customs, did all that scary stuff, grabbed my bags and went to meet my love interest. Who wasn't there. At all. Anywhere. Hell.
I waited on the sidewalk ( hark at me, sidewalk indeed, had we been in England it would have been the pavement but this was LA where they have sidewalks, dammit and I was standing on one. For 20 minutes)
Then, suddenly through the exhaust fumes and balmy evening mist there he was. A little Indian man. With bandaids on his hands.
He wasn't Indian of course but he looked it, to me, right then and actually, people often asked him where in India he came from.
He was really quite slim when I met him, which never does anything for me...in fact skinny men scare me a bit.
I had a shocking moment of WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE HERE?
He did too, I saw it, the deer in a headlight look.
We went to eat and that was when I began to see that H is H. He is just who he is and he is not, never has been and never will be a people pleaser. He does not do 'show' he does 'good'
HE was taking me to eat so he took me to where the food was good. If I hadn't been so completely terrified I might have eaten something and enjoyed it but this place was SO SCARY!
It was mexican food and was where Mexicans go and live and eat and it had scuffy old formica tables and mis matched chairs and no-one spoke English, or wore shirts much.
Now, H has an English /American dad and a Mexican mom. I do not have a prejudiced bone in my body...I love people and I don't like mean people. That's it.
I am English and I have been down in Devon most of my life, to suddenly be in this place of so many different people, where my only experience of LA has been TV shows of guns and shootings and robbing and big old bad place...well, I was a pathetic mess of 'let me go home'.
We went back to his Dad's house and went for a walk and I knew I loved him. I had absolutely NO idea why.
I was there for 2 weeks and honestly he was quite awful to me. I put him in his place a few times, cried a bit and enjoyed myself too.
I have no clue what got me through the next few YEARS.
I went back in November, with 3 children and a suitcase each.
We got married on November 27th, in the Bishops back garden with our 4 children, the bishop and his wife, H's dad, brother and sister and her husband.
It was a beautiful day, with neither of us knowing what we were doing apart from being completely sure that it was the right thing. I have always been sure, through thick and thin and as the years go by, I love him more, his eccentricities are more touching and splendid.
I completely understand him and just as I see inside Isaac's head, so now I can see inside H's mind. ( when I want to and in truth, sometimes I just leave him in there all on his own because it makes me tired being in there with him, much to busy. I like being inside my head where it is quiet and empty.)
Seth was conceived on our wedding night and he kept us together when several other people, circumstances and happenings would have torn us asunder.
In all honesty, this last year has been a time of learning for H and I, we feel that at last we are lifting up our heads and seeing each other.
I am so glad that I followed my heart and not my head, that I did what I knew was right for me and mine.
Lovely H and his smile. He is perfect for me and I think, quite probably the very best daddy my boys could ever ask for.












( and yes, that is H's biggest boy, Rob...a bigger version of Elijah if ever there was one!)









*ETA* wouldn't you know it? Note to self, stop writing about how great H is, everytime you do he turns into a great big arse. Do the Gypsies buy husbands or is it just naughty children? I have been up all of 12 minutes and wish I hadn't bothered, could be a long day.

Labels: H.

I think I am back. As normal. Me. Although not particularly cause for enormous and extravagant celebration, I do like knowing where I am and what's going on.
I can say now, that the whole flying and leaving home, staying somewhere strange, not being here was, traumatic.
Fun though. Enormous fun and worth every heart stopping minute.
I find, when I refuse to be dictated to by fear and depression, when I push and just go and do what I want to do, I love it, I talk myself through it, I enjoy it and then, when it is over, I am overtaken with a shaking terror.
From start to finish, my head goes through all the what ifs. I tell myself I will never do it again, as though promising that will stop any of the dreadful punishments I feel sure are about to befall me, for having fun, for not sticking with the routine, won't happen ( quick say you're sorry, say you won't do it, go there, enjoy it again and the mean monsters will let you off this time....)
It is true that whilst I see that wonderful things happen to me and for me, all the time, whenever I accept the joy and the glory of it all...it goes so horribly wrong. I get so mad when I do this, I try so hard not to but, you know, sometimes your head is just going to do what your head is going to do.
When I came home from Boston, as well as the jetlag which really IS miserable, I had the most awful feeling of impending doom, like I was sure to have to pay with some heartbreaking misery for the level of joy experienced while I was away.
Mental health issues are a bugger, the great thing is, I am wiser to mine now, I never seem to know right when it is all happening, but more and more I cotton on more quickly.
I know more when something is just the head talking, which makes it easier to deal with and get over.
I am not going to stop doing what feels right, I will keep pushing myself to do what feels scary and I will, you can be sure, continue to enjoy the wonderful things that happen to and for me.
If that isn't throwing down the gauntlet to the mean monsters I don't know what is. I stick two fingers up and ....no, I won't at all, I almost said dare them to bring it on. Idiotic that would be, I think they can read and I am sure they read my blog. Shhhhhhhhhhhh.
I am so superstitious, ridiculously so. I don't believe there is any reason to risk disaster, so why walk under a ladder...you know, just in case it is true that it will bring bad luck?
I think, if I say aloud, or write about things I fear....it's asking for it to happen.
Part of me tells me that this is nonsense and then a little voice will whisper ( ah, but what if?)
Oooooohh, subject change...
The littlest boys bedding came today, lovely soft cowboy comforters and shams, sent from Boston, by lovely Cathy. We are still waiting for the sheets, but seeing the comforters has made me keen to get all interior designer and make their room loook fabulous, I have also ordered Seth some pretty fabulous basketball bedding which should be here in a week. Culd it be, that after 6 months of living here I might actually be ready to make it look nice?
(*I can smell vomit...what in the world? I am trying to ignore it because no-one has been sick for days but I can really smell it and I DON'T WANT TO GO ON A PUKE HUNT! *subject change # 3ish)

OK people, listen up....look here, see the pressure I am under?

More fodder, more fodder! I think I've checked your blog 100 times today now! Write!

See?? I'm here...writing, all kinds of drivel to keep you all happy!
I tell you what. Lets try this again.
You tell me what to write. In the comments, give me ideas, ask me questions, give demands. take the pressure of, give me the fodder. Thankyou, I await your instruction.

Labels: requests., stupid and yet thoughtful.

And 12 times checking in deserves a post just for you!

Even though I have little to say today.
I can tell you that today I accepted that I just do not 'get' ice cream. How do people ( like everyone else in my family) love it so and feel able to eat it every night at 7pm as though life will just not be complete unless this ritual is observed.
It hurts me, no kidding, I try to eat it sometimes, just to join in, I put some in a bowl and sometimes add strawberries or pie and then I put it in my mouth and it just hurts me, a big old head full of ice cream headache. Then I try to shuffle it about my mouth to warm it up and stop it hurting me, all that does is spread the hurt...I can eat it in a cone, when I just lick it but a spoonful? Why do I keep forgetting that a bowl of ice cream is no more than a quick trip to brain freeze via the big hurt route?

Or, I could tell you that even though it is July, July 9th even, Summer...I have just had to go and find my fluffy thick socks because it is COLD..and be darned if I am firing up the central heating in July, so thick socks it is then and a cardi if I can't warm up soon.
It has rained since I got home from Boston ( which seems oh so long ago now, I think maybe we had a day of sunshine but I forget because certainly for the past week it has rained, persistently, solid, cold, beating down rain.
I have whined on my blog about it, obviously to such a degree that some precious soul sent me these....



With a card that hoped they would help chase the rain away...and they did, indeed. Not literally, we have still be hounded by heavy downpours that have not relented for even a moment today, but in my heart and soul the sun shone all day.
I know that my husband didn't send these flowers, he has been known to look askance at anyone carrying flowers, so sure is he that such a gesture is for the recently departed ( although he did actually bring me carnations in the midst of our latest Sophie debacle) So, H is out.
I think I know who it is but I am so hopeless at guessing games I shan't mention who I suspect, just that I am sure it is someone who reads my blog and maybe could be accused of being obsessive in her checking in for updates!
Whoever sent them, what a kind and thoughtful thing to do, what a precious and heartwarming way to start my day, thankyou. Really, thankyou.

I am gratified and reassured, when reading blogs of the other Boston visitors that everyone is as flummoxed and speechless as I am about the whole experience.
I am beginning to come out of the fog, being able to stay awake longer and focus when I am up and about. I am also feeling a sort of desperation to know when we can meet again, not necessarily soon but just to know that it will happen again. I dream of it being here and make little plans of where and how...and may even have thought out some little ideas that would make it splendid and less expensive to do. I wonder if I can make it all sound so intriguing and inviting that certain people begin to ponder and dream? Oh what a cunning plan that would be!
It may include castles and ancient spas, winding old streets and a hotel run by my son....enough..for now!

My mind is full of things to do in my home, my mind and my body however have yet to chat and get in sync, so nothing is actually getting done you understand, but Oh how my head has changed things around here. Anyday now, I will do what I think through. T'will be a miracle.

I think this is it for today..pathetic I know, good though that there isn't a newsworthy message for me to share, no news is good news they say and I will run with that for now, I shall also keep my eyes open for blog fodder, preferab;y of the hilarious and side splitting kind, we like those ones, don't we? Yes, we do.

Labels: happy stuff, rambling

I've been home 6 days, is that all? Truly? It seems so long ago, all that laughing and shopping and taking naps and then laughing and shopping some more.
I have had the hardest time since I got home. I thought it was jet lag...and indeed it may be, then the stomach flu, all that aching, weariness, oh such weariness of heavy head, burning eyes variety. The little boys puking again ( and the unfairness of that is being exclaimed very loudly I can tell you!) Then I thought maybe I was just sad that the excitement was over.....whatever what in the world is going on?? I simply cannot wake up, when I absolutely have to wake up, I do so with such dragging slowness and my eyes hurt and my legs ache and oh my goooooodness....why?
All that in 6 days?
Also, the owner of the restaurant where both Jordan and Sophie work has declared bankruptcy, they are shutting down, worrisome but not the end of the world ( unless I am just too tired to worry enough!)
I have had time with the most glorious baby,







But not enough time, never enough time with that chunky lump of deliciousness.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, time is dragging by, waking up, wishing I didn't wake up, going to sleep again.
I don't feel depressed but who knows what that feels like, seems to me I have had so many variations of depression, anything goes.
I just feel tired. Unbelievably and painfully tired.
H is feeling the same way so maybe it's a virus or the weather or ( or living with me) or something. Torrential rain, day after day will make the sunniest of souls feel weary and unable to function. The 10 day forecast shows nothing but this rain and grey skies, storms and more rain....we had such a bleak summer last year, how unfair to see the same kind of weather again.
I did get a lovely hot day in Boston, really hot and sunny on the sunday, when I arrived on the friday there was a storm and rain that was very like home, saturday was perfect for the tour and walking, overcast but warm and DEAR LIFE I am writing about the WEATHER , somebody stop me before all is lost! Any minute now I shall start telling you about my bowels and then someone shoot me.
I have missed any post Boston chats, whether that is because there hasn't been any or because I am asleep I don't know but coming home has been a cold turkey withdrawal of fun and excitement, from all to nothing. Just nothing. Except puke and laundry..whoot.
There, I wrote my blog, aren't you glad about that?
Oh...people have asked me where I met the Boston ladies...I met them on a site called Babyzone.
Go to Babyzone.com, find the message boards( under community) look for Hot Topics, next to that you will see 'click for more' see Not so Hot.....that's where we hang out. Check it out, Say Helen sent you, make some friends, you don't need babies, all sorts of women hang out there. Its great! Who knows, maybe we can get some more English people there and we can have some more get togethers without having to fly, imagine that! They are very friendly and welcoming and it is always somewhere to go if you feel at a loss as to what to do.
In fact, I am headed there when I have had a shower and put my comfy PJs on, see you there, I dare you!

Labels: emotions, just stuff

More Boston what'ya know!
How could I forget to tell you that I got lost in America? I did, pretty well too I might add. We went to a particularly great outlet place, my kind of heaven, lots of shops, it was very hot and we started off staying sort of close to each other and then splitting and then meeting up again. I am so easily distracted in places like that and very quickly forget that other people exist when I am drawn towards the shiny things.
I bought half the Nike store for Seth and Isaac, new bras for me and then ...oooooohhhhh look at THAT store, I found High school musical cologne for BOYS....and another store.......YEAY! Pretty soon I realised that it was a really long while since I saw any of the other girls, no matter, grab a coke and sit in the shade near where we came in, I am so smart, how good was that idea? Perfect. Well it would have been had I been anywhere near where we'd come in, my sense of direction came to the fore again...the totally wrong end of course.
20 minutes of waiting there I began to realise that I had made a wrong choice, so off I went again, waiting half way down the main drag for a sighting of just ONE person I knew..tum de dum...nope.
Eventually I made my way to a lady with a sunglass stall outside and asked her if she knew where I would find a payphone ( remember stupid cell phone didn't work anywhere but the airport) she ummmed and ahhhed and said she KNEW she had seen one somewhere about.....oh LOOK there it is, 3 feet in front of her face where it had been forever!
That would, you would think be the end of my being lost, excpet how do your payphones work in the US?? What the flip? I pumped coins in, stood, like a moron with my cell phone getting Cathy's cell number and over and over " Please dial the area code" clink clink, all the quarters would come back " please do not dial the area code" clink clink here we go again, who knows what I did to actually make it ring but thankfully I did....and I heard Cathy and she called the search party off and we all met up again, all safe and sound.
I told them that I probably would have just sat until the whole place closed knowing that someone would have found me for sure then!
I was so frustrated when we went back to the car and I saw at least 2 sets of stores I hadn't seen before...darn it!
Shopping is the best in the US, Target is like heaven to me and the outlets are so great, I found a set of plates identical to the beloved ones H had to leave behind at his dad's house......he was every bit as excited as I knew he would be by them too. Everything I bought I would hold up and exclaim over the price and then halve it to convert it into pounds...cheap as chips! I love shopping at the best of times but oh my, how I loved those outlet stores and Target, oh lovely target!!
The boys have stopped puking, I have woken up a little bit more, I think I am coming out of the fog.....hooray!











Oh Gretchen , how we love you and your bendiness.




These pictures are a mix of ones we all took, we set up a photobucket account and put all our pictures on there, if I used your pictures girls, thankyou!
You can see just how much fun we had, it took a while to believe it was over but never say never...the friendships have just begun, they will never end.

Labels: Boston, memories

So, the biggest and most frightening part of the trip to Boston ( that I am, can you tell, reluctant to let go of or stop talking about yet) was the travelling part. Flying, I hate it. I can't quite put my finger on why I hate it so, I loathe that feeling of being shut in and trapped, unable to leave, stay right there lady, we'll let you off when WE let you off. I hate that. I do.
I caught a bus to Heathrow airport on thursday and stayed the night in Nana's feather bed, which is very old...my dad was born in it, in fact he was conceived in it and it is was it was way back when.
I so want to hate the very thought of sleeping in that bed but , no kidding, it is so comfy....so I sort of slept, in between jumping awake and thinking about the flight. 5am I was up and dressed and ready, to off we went, that meant I was at the airport by 7am....my flight was at 10.55, I had much time to fill.
I was remarkably calm, for me, at an airport. I was very impressed and thought that maybe my diazepam ( shall we call it Pam, in a friendly way, because I do feel friendly towards it/her) might not be needed.
I filled time with browsing in the shops, I bought tweezers because I knew a big old black wiry hair was sure to shoot out on my chin right before I landed in Boston ( ha! foiled that bugger all right!) I bought some magazines and I was ready. As I would ever be.
I stayed calm and all sort of well travelled and would you look at ME about to jet off to Boston right up until I went into the departure lounge, where I became a shivering and quivering wreck. I was given an aisle seat so that I could escape and not feel trapped ( escape to where exactly? Who knows, I just knew it helped to know I could just get up and not have to climb over anyone)
I sat still in a my seat and wondered if I was about to die from the fear, I texted Jordan and asked myself a thousand times why I was doing this, what makes me battle my fears in such a colossal way? Other people who are afraid of life, go for a walk and tell themselves how brave they are, maybe they just stay at home and say 'what the hell?' Why then, do I feel the need to make myself do these things that terrify me so much?
After 20 minutes of such terror I decided that , look, lovely Dr gave me Pam, for just this purpose, so take one, do it.....help yourself. So I did.
Hmmmmmm, time to board, on we went, I found my seat and was relatively happy, sat down, buckled up and ........

.........I woke up when dinner was served! I slept through the taxi-ing, through the whole take off, and when dinner was served I woke up. Only I could do that I think, sleep through the entire shaking and being thrown back in your seat, the roaring of engines and gathering speed...and wake as soon as a whiff of food is in the air. I love Pam.

Coming home promised to be even better, a night flight meant that I got to take Pam AND my regular night time meds....hell I should have slept through til we landed.
I was just as afraid of the journey home, I tried not to whine about it too much but I could feel myself being quiet and worried.
I knew my bags would be too heavy but thankfully grandpa had put some money in my account and I knew that would cover the excess charges. I packed as well as I could, wonderful Cathy has some things that just wouldn't fit and is shipping them over for me, off we went to the airport.
I didn't think I would cry when I left but I did. Not sobbing old meltdowns but a definite filling up of weepy eyes. It's such a long way...we can't just pop over and see each other, we can't all just call and meet for lunch...this was it, who knows when we will be in the same place again, if ever. Who could not cry?
I had to pay $100 excess AND remove some bits and bobs from one of the cases, those checked in and I was left with a very heavy carry on, filled to bursting but luckily never weighed. I went through security, put my bags and phone etc through the X-ray machine and "Ma'am! You appear to have a large liquid container in your bag"
"Oh, no, I think I have gummy bear vitamins but no liquid"
"Ma'am, you do, a LARGE liquid container...."
"Oh..OH..it's maple syrup, my friend from Canad bought it for me and I didn't want it to break and I thought it would be safe in that bag and I wasn't thinking and I didn't think...oh I am so sorry!! Let me get it ..."
"STEP AWAY FROM THE BAG MA'AM!! do NOT touch the bag....."
How on earth do people smuggle drugs or dangerous things? How do they not sweat into a melting puddle? I was a complete wreck and it was maple syrup for heavens sake, that they kept...and let me go, phew, no lock up or 'Brits banged up abroad' episodes on my behalf.
The flight was great, less than 6 hours and I must have slept through a good bit of it ( though not dinner of course, never that!)
Arrived in London just after 6am and had to wait til 8.40am for a bus.
Hoorah, at last here we are a big old double decker bus, with tables. I got my seat and was pleased that I had a table all to myself.
For about 10 minutes. Then I was joined by a couple, in their 30's. They were obviously special needs and they sat opposite me across the table.
The man was fidgety and suddenly started to say
" I'm going to be sick, I am, I AM, I will be SICK...won't I? I really will be sick.....Can I sit with you?"
As he looked at me.
Oh my goodness, what to say? What DO you say if someone tells you over and over that they will certainly be sick and then ask if they can sit with you.
I said that maybe there were seats upstairs that were forward facing.
"Oh no, I can't do stairs, don't like stairs, can't do stairs, I don't go upstairs, I can't can I?" He said to his wife.
"No, you can't" she said and then she looked at me and said " He's disabled"
" Believe it or not" he said.
I did believe it, bless his heart.
My legs, by the time I got home were like puffy old lady ankles. So swollen I could hardly stop staring at them.
Jet lag has been a killer but I think on top of that is a sadness, such an empty sort of sadness because it's over, we have had months of preparing and getting ready with such anticipation and now it's done.
While I was away, I was so overwhelmed with love for H, who was so incredibly supportive, so excited for me, so uncomplaining and gentle about the whole trip and here I was, in HIS home country, doing all the things he loves, everywhere we went I imagined how he would love it, I chose food he would enjoy to eat, I made myself remember tiny details to tell him and I knew that I would probably never do this again.
I wish I could explain why I don't think I will, not on my own anyway, I think it's because it was such a treat, such a huge deal for us, we don't have the means to up and away like that too often, to do something of this scale means something else has to go, once is OK, now I have to do things that we need as a family. This house needs work, my car is maybe not going to last too long, there are many things that we can do with our money that will benefit our whole family.
We never know what the future will bring and perhaps it will be possible, I do know that for now I have to work on this house. I look forward to doing it too.
I have slept an incredible amount since I got home, really almost embarassingly long stretches of sleep, short periods of wakefulness and more sleep. I thought it was jet lag and I am sure much of it is....but I think it's sadness mixed in as well.
The boys, can you believe have yet another stomach bug, puking and crying..this time it seems to be a 24 hour thing, Isaac's turn tonight, Seths was yesterday and Eli the day before. I hope that's that. We have scrubbed and cleaned and shampooed the carpets and whoops...here we go again. Ack. Stinks.
I babysat for the big old chunky Joshua tonight, such a big boy already. When H has reloaded my photo shop programme I will download some pictures I took , he is spendid indeed.
I think I have written all I need to write about Boston, that really makes it over. Sad that is.

Labels: Boston, emotions

Oooh, I am awake, QUICK write something.....in truth I am only awake now because there are some men right outside my window sawing through concrete and hammering and more sawing and do they not KNOW about Jet lag? Do they care even if they DO know? I suspect not.

So, I am awake, though barely so, I honestly thought that as my stay in foreign climes was so fleeting, that jet lag wouldn't be an issue, oh how wrong I was.

So worth it though, every second of burning eyes and lead filled legs, every minute I feel as though I am on the edge of insanity is worth it.

I had the best time ever. EVER.

Boston is remarkably like England ( imagine that, New England being just like the old one, with refills.) Why doesn't the old England get the whole refill thing? America is so generous, England so stingy, Boston seemed to have the best of both worlds, American generosity and welcoming smiles, roads that to me, seemed reasonable and drivable ( to visiting Americans, apparently scary and undrivable) I liked Boston.

I loved, however, the people I met in Boston.

I don't think it would have mattered where we were, as each person arrived ( and I was one of the last ones) it was like meeting old friends, reuniting, not new meetings. Funny how surprised I felt when people looked just like their pictures...why I would find that extraordinary is beyond me but OH! LOOK! Jenn!!!! Just like her picture!! Hey! Cathy....I recognise you, and so on.

My family know that I don't hug, they tell me that they are sorry and all that but I will have to endure a hug, just a quick one, grin and bear it. I have always been a bit standoffish where physical affection is involved, husbands are the exception to that rule, children too, I hug husbands and children, everyone else will get a smile, maybe a handshake, if I am particularly enamoured of someone I have been known to rub and arm or pat a back but all that hugging stuff? Full on arms and chests and squeezing? Not me, never been able to do it....until this weekend where no-one knew that I don't do that sort of thing, I did it and willingly and often.

I loved these women.

My imaginary friends, these people on the other side of a computer screen, these women know more about me than people in real life, so safe to spill the innermost secrets, why, we know we'll never meet and so we can tell all, share everything and feel safe in the knowledge that it won't matter.

The beginnings of the trip, the initial idea are a blur to me, one day of saying how great it would be to meet up, a mention and a suggestion and before we knew it, all was planned, arranged, set up. Right back in March when it all began, I still thought that it was, for me a dream and I was safe because I wouldn't actually do it. I didn't bank on 2 of the other women wanting to make sure I DID go and buying my ticket for me. Hmmmm.......that made it real suddenly but still so far enough away that I could still enjoy the thought of it.

Julie and Cathy, I can tell you now that had you not been so generous, I would have backed out. I would have made the excuses that I wouldn't be able to manage it, I would have used that as a reason to stay safe and hidden and I would have stayed at home and remained an imaginary friend. Did you know I would do that? I wonder.

As the trip got closer, I began to panic, I so wanted to go and I was so keen to see these people, the thing is, somehow they all had me on a pedestal, kept telling me how great I was and how they couldn't wait to see the real me.

I was so afraid that the real me would be a let down, an anti climax....oh, is that it? Oh dear, she is so funny on line, uh oh, would you look at her, no wonder she never posts any pictures of herself...etc etc. I am so hard on myself and as a result am hard on the people around me, I feel so pathetic most of the time that I try to avoid inflicting myself on other people, best to stay at home, keep quiet, stay in the background, I knew that in Boston I wouldn't be able to do that, the best thing is, it didn't even cross my mind to be that way. I loved these women, I felt at ease from the very first minute, as I walked through the gates and saw the people who had been waiting all morning for me to arrive, I knew that it was alright to be me.

I have often bragged about my pelvic floor of iron. No stress incontinence for me thankyouverymuch. Let me tell you something, I laughed so much and so hard that I actually had to do laundry half way through the stay because darn it, if that pelvic floor didn't let me down. The laughing was of the eye bulging, cross legged, bend over and wheeze variety. Endless, one quip after another, so much humour, so many opportunities, if laughter is the best medicine I am stocked up on cure alls for the next 15 years.

When I came home, I was overwhelmed by a feeling that is hard for me to explain, I wasn't sad about it being over, because it isn't over, the friendships that we already had, the bond that we cemented in Boston are now lifetime friendships, I went to Boston knowing that I would have fun, I had no idea how incredible the experience would be.

13 women in one place at one time, impossible to believe that given that fact, we could all have fun, no-one being left out, everyone included and welcomed, so many different personalities, some loud and extrovert, some quiet and just soaking it all in, others organised and efficient, some going with the flow and laid back. Every one generous and giving. Such kindness compassion, giving, thoughtful.

There were moments of spirituality, testimonies shared, experiences recounted.

This is where I tell you that I just fell asleep for another 3 hours.....
The jet lag is kicking my big old bum I tell you what.

I want to share particular funny stories but am still too weary and foggy brained. I hope I can remember them all.
I did bring some treasure home, Isaac in particular is in heaven, Cowboy heaven. He looks divine, I can't look at him without getting teary because he is just so thrilled to look like Johnny Cash.




I am floored by the generosity shown to me by so many people, gifts straight from the heart and so perfect for us.
Gifts for Joshua, Seth, Isaac, Eli, me, Sophie, Mel.....I pretty much had a baby shower on friday evening...and didn't even have to have a baby, how great is that??

I am rambling because I can't say what I am feeling.
Sad because it's over, joyful because we did it and everything so exceeded any expectations.
I want to do it again but am being realisitic. Who knows what the future will bring, I know that whatever happens these people are my friends for always.



Back row....Michelle,Michelle ( 2) Jackie, Gretchen, Rachel.
Front row....Sara, me, Jenn, Cathy, Di, Jamie and Julie Bo.
We are friends.

Labels: Boston

Man, can't tell you how low down on the list of necessary things tidying became!

I bought new school shirts, they really have no school shirts ( which is very untrue, school shirts that were ironed however...none)

Yeah, they wore stuff more than once, more than twice even, in fact as many times as I could make them wear it, I did do laundry one time though.

I feel very tired.

We went by Mac Donalds for dinner.

We went to KFC for dinner.

I kept trying to clean stuff but got stopped every time.

The school day was just so short.

I love you.

All translate to the same thing = they need me, they missed me.
Very good, shall continue with renewed enthusiasm.

Labels: H.

I am home, all Boston'd out.
You know when you are planning something and you are excited and you imagine how it will be and hope how it will be and DREAM of how it will be...and then it is and well, it can't ever be as good as you imagine?
This was everything I imagined, just to think about it gives me goosebumps, a lump in my throat an ache in my heart.
I am so tired, if I try to post about the weekend now I won't do it justice.
I can honestly say that this has been a life changing event, I will never be the same again. I have learned and understood, felt and held onto, laughed and realised.
I knew I liked these ladies, I knew we would have fun and we did...oh how we did, but I brought home with me much more than the suitcases that were so over the allowed weight, it may take a while for me to get it all straight in my head so that I can write it here, I can barely type my name tonight.
H has cleaned and rebooted and reset everything on my laptop and as yet I don't have a photoshop programme and do I have pictures to share with you? Shall I give you a taster?
Oh alright then....just a snippet.





















You so wish you were there, don't you?

Labels: Boston, friends, Happy places