Hello? HELLO? Is this thing turned on?

I know, I am rubbishy rubbish at writing this thing now. I wish I cared more, I sort of care in a " my blog used to be so cool and people read it and I loved it, wonder what happened?" kind of way but I don't know, is it too last year to write a blog? Is my life so tedious it isn't worth recording anymore? Who knows, I come here, write for an hour, delete it and toodle off to Face Book where I can vent my woes or joys in a mere sentence.
Lazy, yet satisfying.
I think I still have things worth saying, I just find it more difficult to write them, I type and find myself drifting off to oblivion and let's face it, if I'm boring myself there's a pretty good chance anyone reading is going to lose the will to live and just click the X in the right hand top corner.
I ought not to care whether anyone else likes what I write but if I felt that way I would write in a journal and keep it under my bed. I used to like the comments and the google evidence that people were reading all about ME.
Everything I could write about has been written about before, we are living in a repeat of old happenings I'm afraid, most of it grumblingly dull and ' shut up and get over it for the love of interesting things to read!'-ish.
Actually, I am 48 now, that's newsworthy in itself because overnight I have become an old and grumpy person with opinions I find increasingly difficult to keep to myself. I wonder if I dare even voice them on here because some people might still read it and you can bet your life if anyone does still read this it will be those very people I complain about, sod's law that is!
My birthday was a blast. So much so that next year I am going away, on my own and will not be telling anyone in my ungrateful and selfish family where I am, that way, when I don't get so much as a sniff of an oily rag I can tell myself that it's because no-one knows where I am, not because they are all so bloody selfish and mean that they just don't care enough to spend time or money on me. Miserable buggers.
Nothing, well I say nothing, Sophie gave me a card, one she bought last year and forgot to give me and found under her bed, so moving to feel all the love that poured out of that, she shoved it on the mantle 3 days before my birthday for some bizarre reason, the sight of it there didn't nudge anyone else's conscience into following suit.
I was quite touched that Eli and Seth gave me a present each. All 3 boys love cars, it is the latest thing, 1:18 scale cars, supercars and fast cars and we spend many a happy moment looking at the online, we find them at carboot sales and I love this phase. When we look online I always ooh and ahhhhh over the classic cars, I love them. They laugh at me and say I am the female version of J.ames M.ay from T.op G.ear, apparantly he is an old classic car chap. So, on my birthday I came downstairs to find 2 of their cars, classic ones wrapped with my name on. Eli somehow skipped the paper and wrapped his car in tape, just tape...which was lovely because at least I got to feel as if I was spending hours unwrapping my birthday gifts, even if I had paid for them myself and knew what they were.
H, as he does, or doesn't, had nothing for me and half way through the morning asked if I wanted to go out and eat, I couldn't be bothered to pretend I was pleased to be honest, I told him I would rather order an Indian take away and he paid for it. That was that. Happy birthday me.
Jordan came round after work and put some cards through the door, he works til after 11 so I didn't hear him come. Dan called.
Funny that my birthday is the first out of everyones, the petty part of me feels like doing the same for all of them but I can't, I cannot let anyone's day pass with the slightest chance that they will feel so totally unimportant and uncared for, I would feel shame if I thought I had caused anyone to feel that way.
A few days after my birthday, after I had taken the boys to the cinema, we had been to the park and at 8.30 I told them it was time for bed, they cried and complained and all 3 of them were saying things like " you are so mean, you never do anything good for us, it's the summer holidays and we don't get to have any fun or stay up late, you are rubbish and mean" I lost it, totally lost it, that stinging hurt on my birthday was still very sharp and so I let them have it. I asked them if they had noticed who does ALL the birthday treats in this house, (for Eli's birthday we had a picnic and birthday cake with friends and the next day the cinema treat) they said that they knew it was me, then I asked them what had happened on my birthday and who had done anything special for me? I then told them that the day after my birthday I had had a card from my mum and she had out £10 in it and THAT money was what I used to buy their sweets and pop at the cinema and to hear them all saying how mean I was and how I never do anything for them made me very sad.
Sometimes I think that we, as mothers are too quick to believe we don't matter and too slow to remind people that we do.
I matter.
There, got that off my chest.
Stupid car is broken, I wonder how many times I have written that on this blog? I suppose it's what happens when you buy old cars. There is no way around it, we just have to get on with it and hope that we can find the money for the endless repairs. I have no idea what is wrong, if I go faster than 40-50 mph it judders and when I stop, the car stinks of burning rubber. I don't have the money to take it to the garage until next week, so we are staying close to home and using it as little as possible until then.
Same ole same ole.
Here's where I usually delete and scuttle back to see what people with lives have to say on FB....
poor old blog.