Plenty of CAPS and YELLING.

Sometimes, it isn't such fun, being me.
I used to feel so useful and capable and good at things. I felt that way because I was, good at things I mean.
These days, I feel pretty much as if I am doing a half assed not up to par job of everything I Can be bothered to do.
I am the feminists nightmare, give me a husband to feed and a home to pretty up and I will wear a frilly pinny and sing while I bake. As long as the husband is out earning an honest crust and minding HIS own business while I mind mine. Dammit.
That's where we slip up, my husband and I. He wants my job, I don't want his.
I will stand up in my own soup and tell the world what I am good at. I am good at shopping I can make a penny do what a shilling used to do. I can make 3 meals from an empty pantry and then come up with dessert.
I can, but I never have to because my pantry is FULL, always full, cupboards are full, shelves and bulging and neding under the weight of my frugal stocking and filling.
There are very few days when I don't have any money. I live within my means, I scrimp and I spread what I have as finely as I Can so that there is usually a little bit of something hidden for an emergency, I mean a little bit, it may be only £100 but if I need it I can usually find it.
I have made it my goal that I will always be able to feed my family, have some treats and somehow, in some tiny way, be able to help someone else.
A small goal but however small your goal, when you achieve it, there is such enormous satisfaction. Such a sense of well being and self worth , I like that, I crave that, it is what keeps us all going.
I have always, no matter where I have been, from a room in the nurses home to the splendour of the barn, had a house that I am proud of, even that hideous devil's lair looked good to other people.
This house is a crap hole. I give in. I am outnumbered. For every pretty, attractive, stylish thing I find, there is some masculine pile of crap that will smother it. For every pleasing and orderly arrangement, a tangle of wires. For each leafy addition, there will be a piece of frayed string tied to it with a conker or toy animal attached.
I will throw away an old shoe box, 10 minutes later,there it is, back on my pretty hallway cabinet, next to the bike helmets and broken once beautiful flowery thing my mum made me, right there, underneath the wall of carefully hung family pictures that are so wonky and out of line because they have been hit by flying tennis balls, bouncy balls, sock balls, towel flicking fights, on top of the carpet that looks like something my Nan would have discarded ( And let me tell you, she lived in the same house for over 70 years and never threw a thing away)
I can cook a great meal. GREAT meal. Now, everything I cook, unless it is eaten with white rice, is sighed over, something refused, something not quite acceptable.
My pantry, such a source of pride and often ( this is true) I would go in the kitchen and just look at it, just get me some happy from staring at the ordered shelves. Well, it seems the order wasn't orderly enough because this weekend H rearranged it, every single sodding part of it. Every drawer, each and every shelf and even the cupboards were emptied and rearranged and now? Now I don't know where a bloody thing is. I feel like the somewhat unsatisfactory barely paid hired help. SO, when I cook a meal that will alomst certainly have something wrong with it, I have to yell " WHERE WILL I FIND?????"
Yes, you can imagine how well THAT goes down.
Now, if you had plenty of time and were so inclined, you would be able to go back to the last time I grumbled about H and his 'helpful' ways and by jiminy if it wasn't exactly 28 days ago.
THIS PROVES MY POINT! Because has he HELPED AT ALL in those 28 days? NO HE HAS NOT!
Has he mopped the 3 inches of talc off the bathroom floor? Why no. He is the only person to ever USE talc and yet, I am allowed to clean the floor every other day, all on my own, without any interference or suggestions whatsoever. I haven't touched that floor for a week just to SEE if he is inspired to clean it, you know to help me or whatever. It's forming it's own shape, like some new country developing right there in the bathroom, he has probably knelt in it whilst REARRANGING MY CUPBOARD UNDER THE SINK, where all the spare mouthwash and hand soap and toothpaste is stored ( in a displeasing way it would seem)
He will have to tramp his way through it to clear out the drawers that house bath toys and all manner of exciting things, he is about to do that because he told me this very day.
Bet he doesn't clean it. I bet he DOESN'T.
I hate, really, truly HATE losing all the things that gave me satisfaction.
I am so mad about this that I can't even write about Seth going away, for a whole week,
to sleep and climb and have fun and not be here.
I spoke to H about this ( and what a waste of breath, I have spoken to him before, what is the point?) and he said " I was making things EASIER for you"
"but they weren't hard!"
"But now everything is in a good place, you can find it all!"
"How many time did I EVER have to ask you where things were? How many? Never, not once BECAUSE I KNEW WHERE EVERYTHING WAS"
"but you don't always want to put the shopping away do you?"
"no, you are always more than welcome to put it away, WHERE it goes, where I CHOSE for things to be, where I can FIND them and where it was PLEASING to me to have them"
"Oh but we were making it all so much better for you and now it is EASY to see where everything goes."

Hello wall.

I am finding that more and more there is a part of me that is screaming against becoming who I am becoming. Feeling that it is all such a waste of time to even bother asserting myself because it is so much easier to just shut up and put up and wait to be old.
Don't get me wrong, being old isn't so bad at all, the alternative is pretty bleak and being old is liberating.
I just want to be something BEFORE I am old. Something splendid, all of my own. Something ME.
I don't think I have been anything yet.
Apart from pregnant, fat or exasperated.
Or someone else's something or other.
I love being a mother and wife and daughter and sister and friend. I do.
But I so long to be Helen...... SOMETHING no-one else is. Or something someone else is but BETTER.

I think most 40 something women feel this way. As though somehow, the best bit has passed us by and the rest all looks so humdrum.
Who am I to complain? I get to go away and be me every now and then and in 10 days I shall do it again.
When I go anywhere, on my own, as me, just me. I am like something that has been wound up, as tight as it can be wound and then held onto, very tight.
Then. Let. Go.
I talk without catching breath, I run around like a kid in a toy shop, here and there and DON'T TELL ME WHEN TO STOP.
I feel like a years' worth of ME has to get out.
10 days.
I hope I can last that long.
It's not a certainty by any means.
How everyone else in Boston will fare this time is another uncertainty, they are strong women, they'll cope, just drop me at Target and come back in 2 hours, I'll be fine, I'll be happy talking to those walls, a change is as good as a rest so they say.

If you're happy and you know it...

You might like to leave because I am so annoyed this is the only place I can think of to let off steam before I punch someone. ( H)
I will say first, that I understand that there was a good intention behind what annoys and saddens me right now but in this instance, because I so clearly stated that I did not want help, I am merely angry and very sad.
I am not a computer geek. I know what I know and it is enough to do the things I want to do, the things that I enjoy online.
I have favourite websites ( 3 actually, not so many) and I have favourite blogs. 73 at last count. I have them saved, where I can find them easily and click and read and leave and be happy.
Most of all I have my photographs, every one right where I want it. Each one, cropped, edited, saved, named, in files that I know, remember can find and use, I can post them, send them to be printed, share them, delete them. I CAN FIND THEM.
This is MY laptop, pretty much the only thing in this house that is MINE AND MINE ALONE.
I am precious about it and I make no apologies for that. There are 3 other working computers in this house, all are grander than my laptop, 2 of them are considerably more expensive, considerably more flash and gadget filled. 2 of them are IN THIS VERY ROOM.
I do not allow games on this laptop and to use it you must ask my permission. It is MINE. Ask and you might recieve. Tamper and you shall face my wrath.
I don't care about new downloads or faster this and thats, I could care less about GBs and techno babble. I just like MY LAPTOP, the way it is, the way it works, the way IT WAS.
This morning, again, just like a few weeks ago, I came down and H, bless his heart but damn his interference, has changed it all again. Downloaded some new programme that will 'make it all faster' make it all SO MUCH BETTER....NO! IT WON'T!! What it has done, just as it did last time he changed it all, is just CHANGE IT ALL. Everything has gone. Everything. All my pictures. GONE...oh saved somewhere right over there in that expensive extra hard drive, OVER there, not HERE ..not on my laptop where I can GET TO THEM! Not anywhere accessible to ME, the person who took the bloody pictures, who saved them and edited them and put them WHERE I COULD FIND THEM!
I have no blogs in my favourites, not one...oh yes, there is a little file box on my new screen saver, the new one, with fish on it, not the old one with Jordan and Eli on it, the new one with all the short cuts muddled up in a lump on the left, not the old one where they were right where I expected them to be, oh no.....a folder named OLD FAVOURITES is right there ( or is it named old FAVORITES because American people spell things differently to English people, even on an English persons laptop....yep. just checked and all my blogs and links are in the Old FAVORITE folder. ) so I can go and click and save and do that ALL OVER AGAIN because what's an hour or 38 between family when it will all work so much better now?
I liked vista, there I said it. It worked, perfectly for me, it did what I wanted it to do, every single time. I would open my laptop and click and I was transported to the place I had chosen to go to. Every simple, single time.
I could close my laptop down and miracle of miracles, when I came back, it was waiting for me.
Then H helped me and changed it to windows something or other because he has that and he LIKES that and it has been the bane of my internet existence ever since, my laptop freezes, it dies and won't turn back on, I have to remove the battery and shut it all down and then restart it and here we go again...that was annoying but I knew ( eventually) what I was doing and it annoyed me but I KNEW WHAT I WAS DOING!
This morning, I wake up, come down and see fish..and my heart sank, I saw a sweet note saying " I downloaded ( whatever the hell it is this time, who knows or cares really") for you, it should work better now " and I felt a fleeting moment of "aww " before the much stronger, much longer lasting feeling of "ARGH!" set in.
Why don't people in this house ever listen to me? I mean really listen. I could sit for hours and tell you how every person under this roof ( and not under it, if I gave birth to them) thinks, how they feel, what irks them, what makes them happy.
I know how H works, I know that he doesn't like me buying him clothes and even though I often see shirts or trousers I know he would love and I am sure he owuld look GREAT in, I don't buy them because HE DOESN'T LIKE THAT.
I know he doesn't like potatoes and would rather have rice, I know he doesn't like certain TV shows, so I won't watch them if he is in the room. I know he doesn't like door slamming ( too bad sometimes, better than punching someone in the face, though considerably less satisfying)
I know that he doesn't like eating out in England and I suffer that because I love him, I go with other people.
He doesn't like big family outings and even though that makes ME sad....I let it go.
So, why, WHY is it SO hard for him to hear what I say? Why can't he grasp that even though it is alien to him, even though HE doesn't feel that way, I DO.. AND THAT IS PERFECTLY OK.
I don't care if there is a new programme, couldn't give a stuff how many features it has, I don't want it. I like what I like, I want what I know and what I want more than anything is for him and everyone else in this family to appreciate that this one thing, this one little box with it's lovely screensaver, chosen by ME..is mine.
Just mine.
Stick with your fancy schmancy top of the range newfangled thingamajig, change IT as often as you like, store all your stuff on whatever hard drive you like, in whatever corner of whatever room you choose but LEAVE MY THINGS ALONE! I can't even download music onto my iPod who in the name of all that's stupid am I ever going to find MY photos when they are hidden in that box thing that isn't, in anyway, attached to MY computer, oh I am just so MAD right now.
I know that crying over this for the last hour or so is ridiculous, it's a small sweat get over it. To me though, it is so much more than the fact that yet again I have lost everything I saved on MY laptop, it is the fact that yet again I have been ignored and made to feel as though my feelings don't matter, made to feel as though what I want doesn't count because I just don't get how much better it will be now. I do not want to be shown how right you are...let me be happy in my stupidity.
I am so tired of endlessly trying to be tactful, think of other peoples' feelings, be considerate, thoughtful, patient when quite clearly, no-one else in this house gives a toss.
Annoying that H was sleeping when I came down today, infuriating that by the time he comes down I will be ready to find the kindest way to tell him how displeased I am, I am sure that because I do that, because I am always so careful to word things the way I wish they would be said to me, that is most likely the reason why it doesn't sink in, if he were to be faced with a scarlet faced, raged filled me, yelling about how he DIDN'T LISTEN AND LEAVE MY DAMNED LAPTOP ALONE!!!!! He might remember.
Perhaps the " that was so kind of you, but" approach isn't working because he hears the " That was kind of you" and switches off.
I am safe putting all this down into words because he won't read it, too many words, not enough pictures.
Match made in.....where was this match made? Some kind of warped joke shop is my guess.

Love it, hate it.

Julie Bo got me thinking after her post about things she likes...here's a list of things I love and things I hate.

I love being a grandma. Nothing beats its, glorious baby without any of the sleepless nights. Perfect.


Look at that little face, he was telling me something so important while I took his picture.







I hate being ignored. If I speak to you, answer me, be rude if you like, tell me to bugger off, say whatever you like but DO NOT look right through me and pretend I didn't speak, this will absolutely get you a smack in the head if you try it too often and maybe, just maybe, one day I will do it right back, you will make me ignore you and stop giving a toss whether I hurt your feelings or not. It is beyond ignorant and also, abusive, to treat someone that cares about you this way.

I love gut aching laughter, the kind that makes your head ache, your eyes stream and takes your breath away. I had one of those laughs this evening with Seth, he then laughed at me laughing which made me laugh even more.....perfect. It was over something so lavatorial, such a typical thing to make a little boy laugh. I was lying on the sofa and Seth always sits behind my legs while we watch TV...I may have passed wind,( in the most feminine of ways, naturally)...which he found hysterical, which made me laugh and to my horror, every time I laughed, I farted and it was like a machine gun...right at Seth who was in the line of fire.....oh my goodness, it was a vicious circle that left us both near collapse. Good times ( those soya beans are a killer!)

I hate that the exchange rate has gone so crappy, when I went to Boston in June it was almost $2 to the pound, this time it is about $1.60 and falling, that makes a huge difference when it comes to spending money while we are there. Ptttttthhhhhhhhh! The prices are so good when we are there though that it will still be a pleasure to shop. Whether Sophie has any spending money is another matter, she is just about as terrible with money as it is possible to be. It drives me insane that she will not listen and if our trip is spoiled by her whining that she can't buy the things she sees, she will be more sorry than I am!

I love the feeling I got when I threw some clothes away today, they are too big, literally falling off, I don't want to keep them 'just in case' this time, they went in the bin and good riddance. I like being comfortable in the clothes that fit me now.


I hate that it will be a while before the weight loss shows. I can feel it, I know I am losing but because I have so much to lose, it won't be obvious for a long while yet. I think when I have lost another 3 stone it will really make a difference, every stone I lose is a size down in clothes. That is so something to work towards in easy to think about chunks. If I think of how much I have to lose to even get down into the healthy range I become overwhelmed and wonder if I can do it. If I just aim at a stone, one at a time, just 14lbs.....I can do it. I am on my way to my 2nd stone.....and so far it has been perfectly do-able. I can keep doing it. I have to think long term, its no good trying anything crashing and fast, it won't work, I can't do deprivation. I can do sensible. If I just do what I have been doing and it keeps working the way it is working, I will be where I want to be in a year. A year that's all! How exciting is that.

I love that the hate above turned very quickly into a love!

I hate that I still worry so badly about Sophie. I know that she is not perfect, she is young and behaves very immaturely. She does what young people do and she does it so well ( gah!) but for me, when she does what most teenagers do...I feel sick, I still don't know if she will go that step further, will she slip right backwards? I can't just tut and say 'oh well, kids will be kids' and fall asleep, I can't yet accept that she is just out and having fun. She is so lacking in restraint....but she isn't doing what she used to do, I have to give her that trust and respect or she may well just give up and say to hell with it all and wonder why she bothers. finding the right way to approach things is a tough call sometimes.


I love that I give H chances, when he really REALLY bugs me, I always give him the benefit of the doubt, keep my mouth shut while I stew and really get to hate him....and then, like for instance, when I am seething because dammit, he looks right through me when I talk to him, ignores me completely and makes me feel like the lowest of low, I get all teary because I am so KIND to him and I spend most all of my day thinking about things that will make him happy and here he is, hating me so much he can't even speak to me or answer a simple question, like any polite and loving husband would do. What have I done that is so WRONG? Right, I'll show him....I'll make HIM feel like crap, then he'll be sorry.
Right that's it, he can't even make himself care that I am sniffing and so sad....heartless pig....anyone would think he is bloody deaf or something......H! H! See? Ignoring me again.
Oh how I miss the days of those HUGE big old headphones, with padded old wads of leathery looking material that sat at the side of your head with a big headband thing so that you looked like a complete plonker and everyone KNEW that you couldn't hear them.
The thing is, these days, when a husband is minding his own business and has his teeny weeny earplugs in, listening to some deathly dull podcast because if he has to endure another week of hearing wannabes warbling to Whitney Houston songs, in the hope that they will be a huge star courtesy of the X Factor, his head might explode causing his wife unnecessary heartache, his wife can't and doesn't see the headphones and spends the best part of 90 minutes plotting revenge for such ill mannered treatment.
So I love that I bide my time, therefore giving myself the opportunity to see the error of my ways. Phew.

I love hot water bottles, fluffy socks, sarcasm, yellow gold and white gold mixed in a piece of jewellery, bangles, russian wedding bands, long gold chains, crumpets with butter, crocs, eating out, diet coke, beautiful white laundry hanging on a line. Listing what I loved hate, somehow refreshing to get it out in the open.


I really dislike, sport, ear piercings with those horrible earrings that stretch your holes bigger and bigger WHY??? Tattoos, long fingernails on men, long facial hair, grey socks, unironed clothes, baggy sheets on my bed, sideways rain, snow unless it is on a Christmas card, seeing lttle babies in strollers that don't lie back- poor little floppy heads, dingy white clothes.

Oh bloggin' hell.

Does that sound like swearing? It does, how marvellous because I feel like swearing with this blog lately, I sit and type and feeling satisfied with my post I hit 'publish post' and then every bloggin' time, this stupid internet goes pratty on me, we have super super broadband, supposedly, trouble is, with broadband you have to share it, the speed yesterday was something spectacularly cruddy like 45 something or other....should be 8000. Yes, we are officially slower than dial up but paying many times more.
The price for being in a town, with a gazillion other people who think they have important things to do online, they don't of course, nothing anyone wants to do is anywhere near as important as my blogging, looking up air fares to places in Canada and the US because I want to fly away and meet people I have never met and have some excitement and FUN ( canada in March is very cheap by the way, Florida in June? forget it.)
The wonderful thing about insomnia is that hoorah! Lines are free and I can actually check emails in less than 39 minutes, can look at blogs with pictures and even reply on message boards without losing the will to live.
I wrote the best ever blog yesterday, it was long and full of interesting facts, like H having a heart attack at dinner time, really I thought he did. He went grey, sweating, couldn't swallow or talk and the weirdest and most terrifying noise, like gurgling and gulping. I was the epitome of unfussy because that would have ensure his heart would explode, so I told him to sit quietly and asked in a round about way where I would find his heart spray should we need it, not that we do need it and does it hurt like when you had your heart attack and argh you look sort of sick and should I call someone, ambulance or Julie to sit with boys or an ambulance?
He was sort of OK within an hour or 3, with me not taking his pulse or checking that he was breathing. HE has a horrible cold and is clammy and stuffed up, but he is breathing and not grey anymore.
He is just such an private man, he hates fuss and he won't use 5 words if a grunt or nod will do.
We are not a smoochy couple, none of that gazing into each others eyes and proclaiming undying love, but I adore him and have no doubts that he thinks I am quite nice too.
I am so dependant on him for so much, I vowed I would never do that, didn't do it with the first one, don't feel like I rely on H really, but I do.
I need him purely because he makes me feel safe, not in a macho I'll get 'em for you way, but just because he is so incredibly calm always.
I am prone to run around with my fingers in my ears when stuff happens, kids fall over and there is blood and breath holding, I want to run for the hills, I do that useless sort of ARGH...HELP...UM......GET UP! ( very helpful, child falls down, is bleeding and wailing and on the floor, like yelling 'get up' will help!) I will pick up bleeding child and run around doing nothing but hyperventilate. H appears unruffled and just 'does,' This is why he has had a heart attack and I haven't I think.
He keeps the outside clear and calm and his heart is kabooming and squeezing the life out of itself.
I need him because when I ( not that I do anymore because I believe him now) whine and say that I hate myself and look, how ugly am I, blah blah, he never tries to say the right thing, he only ever says " I have no idea what you are saying"
He likes what he likes and there are no surprises, we can sit in the same room without saying a word all evening and it doesn't matter.
I lie in bed and listen to his snoring and I love it, not sawing logs, just a glorious gentle snore.
I look at him and my stomach flips, I love that on sunday, whether we go to church or not, he wears smart clothes and a white shirt because he wants to remember that it is sunday and he says wearing his dress trousers and shirt reminds him that he should behave with reverence, which he does always anyway. He is the most respectful man I have ever known and is a gentleman ( in the true sense of the word) I can't imagine life without him and if he weren't here the boys' lives would be so much poorer. My life would be emptier.
Being ill has made me see just how much I rely on him, more and more of late. When I came back from the doctors and saw the bed turned back, bedside light on and curtains drawn and knew that he was saying I could just go to bed, that meant the world to me. When we get back from church on sundays he keeps the boys entertained while I sleep, how pathetic that 3 hours at church, 1 hour of teaching 4 x 3 year olds wipes me out, every sunday I am more itchy and covered in welts than any other day, so I come home and sleep, for 3 hours usually. Never a word, never a sigh or a question, it just is the way it is.
He can be exasperating at times but I don't notice so much anymore, he doesn't do what is expected, which can be annoying at times but he is who he is and for me, that's just right. I felt real fear yesterday when I thought he was having another heart attack and his snoring last night was particularly comforting to me.
So I wrote this whole post last night and after 15 minutes of waiting for it to post...it didn't, it was lost forever, bloggin hell and blogger it.
Dan called yesterday to say that he has been offered the managers job at a restaurant owned by Jordan's boss, it is 4 miles away and would be wonderful for him, he is waiting to hear from the boss. who is going to visit Dan at the Hotel he works at now, then he will decide if he will come and work down here or try for the R.A.F.
He also said that he has booked 2 nights away for H and I, great tickets to see the Lion King at the west end and first class tickets on the train. It would be such a treat but I will wait until we see the tickets before I get too excited! Dan said he will stay here and look after the boys while we are away, H and I have never had a night on our own, ever.
The night we got married we stayed at our condo with 3 teenagers and a very cross Sophie, Seth was conceived that night and well, the rest is history, 3 babies in 3 years, 10 moves in 8 years.....we've had our heads down and noses to the grind stone ever since, it is only this past year that we can begin to lift our eyes and look around, take a breath and begin to enjoy each other and the boys.
Maddening that I am so pathetic and weary lately.
I really long to know what is causing this illness, today I have had an enormous flare up, my feet are swollen and painful, itching fit to make me insane, my neck and head itch, my eyes are still sore. Nothing is different, no extra stress.....what is making this happen?
I wish I could make myself go on some macrobiotic diet, or some kind of drastic health kick that would help but until we have some idea what is causing it, is there any point?
On march the 12th I have the tribunal for incapacity benefit, I have to travel and see a whole panel of strangers who will decide once and for all if I am faking it, if I am truly ill or just making it all up to get benefits.
I have a whole wad of paperwork all about me, written by someone who doesn't know me, a couple of pages written by my doctor and a page written by me.
I have no idea what I will be asked or what they expect, I imagine they will tick boxes and decide which box I fit into.
My life isn't such that it fits into any normal category is it? I don't know what I could do or say to explain how my life is and what I feel, I imagine that on the day I will do what comes naturally at the time, whether that convinces the panel that what I say is true or not, who knows.
I know that to most people I appear fine, that I manage to do what needs to be done, I do everyday things and I do them well, then when no-one can see I fall apart, my body is falling apart because it is trying to make me stop something, shut down, give in, which is impossible, how can I stop or give in or shut down? Oh well.......that's a couple of weeks away yet.
Ah, you see...just as I type that.....Sophie just called, crying. nearly midnight and she is on her way to tell me what is the matter, I will talk and listen and advise and then she will go and do what she wants to do, she will ( I hope) feel better and I will feel worse, when will this situation end? When will she actually listen and change what she is doing so she can change how she feels?
I am glad she feels able to talk to me, I just wish she would listen as well.
No spell check and no time to check it myself, enjoy my typos!!

After the visit.
She cried a lot, I sat and tried to get a word in while she told me how no-one cares and all she wants is a home where she is wanted and can put pictures up and she cried some more and then I took her home, I told her to come back tomorrow, when she has had a sleep and we will watch some girlie movies ( bought 3 of the chickiest flicks at blockbuster on saturday) and talk properly, I also told her that I do love her but until she is actually willing to help herself we are all pretty much helpless.
I really cried when I dropped her off and actually let her see that, I told her how it feels to be her mum and watch her do this to herself, how impossible it is to hug her and love her in a demonstrative way when I am worrying my skin off about whether this is the night she will be raped or murdered. When I have been awake half the night wondering if she is walking through industrial estates, half dressed at 3am, when she turns up here at 7am and says she has been sitting in the car since 4am, how can I throw my arms around her and say how happy I am to see her? I'm not superwoman and personally, I think not grabbing her by the neck and shaking the crap out of her shows pretty darned incredible restraint.
Maybe tomorrow we can make some headway but I won't hold my breath until she is ready to hear what I say.

Hello left hand, said the right hand..what have you been up to?

I won't bore you with details ( or maybe I will, who can tell, once I start there are times I find it hard to stop, did you know that about me?) all I can say is that here in the UK, the country I love and am so happy to live in, there are different benefits agencies. It would appear that one has no idea what the other is doing. So, having spoken to one ( the one who said that I am no longer eligible for benefits) for several days, and today was told to call another one, it would appear that even though ( and I beg to differ on their decision because I am a scared old bag who shakes at the slightest challenge and although my blog would lull anyone into believing I am a bit confident and brazen, actually I can usually scarcely remember my name, my address is beyond me, ask me where I lived 3 houses but only 9 weeks ago and I say things like " that big house, the one I really liked, you know it was near the post office" ) I am deemed fit and able to work full time, the fact that I am here with a husband who can't go out to work ( although in theory he could, in reality it isn't going to work out that way and we have long accepted that and love having him here doing so much that I cannot imagine having to do myself) and my Isaac who needs extra care, not to mention the other 2, well it would seem that it is understood that I am needed here and the money is not being stopped, nor reduced or changed in any way.
Thankyou Lord and also England.
I sort of felt the last couple of days that people would wonder about H in all this. My answer to that is well, H is H and this is my blog. I don't want to discuss him as if he isn't here ( when he is..right over there eating his rhubarb and apple crumble and custard) and what his issues are are not for discussion. Not here anyway, here he just gets praised and honoured because he is a perfectly splendid man. He wears good hats and slippers ( usually not at the same time) he is my steadying thing.
When I weep and rage and panic and wail, he sits and he waits. He pats arms and he strokes backs, he does dishes and he clears jungles. He says " good job and well done and OK, very good" when I say I am just going here or there or need, or want or have done.
When I have been a snarling bear with the little people who make my ears bleed at times, when my patience has snapped and unravelled, he quietly says things like "hmm, overwhelming tonight, that Eli is a git huh?" and I know it isn't just me but he can manage to hold in his grumpiness until I am in control again.
I used to wish that he was a whizz of a business man , a financial genius who would bring home huge pay cheques and let me spend them. I often wondered where my determination to marry for money the 'next time' had gone and how loud the angels had laughed when my heart sort of tugged in this man's direction. I don't think that way anymore because I see 3 little boys who have a life I could never have imagined, not even in my most dreamiest of dreams.
I see him putting together an 'office' for little boys to sit in and relax.



I hear him reading and bringing magic into little boys' lives every day.
Riches indeed.
That said the 'git' has come back downstairs, I should go and be nice to him because he has been a particularly annoying git today and might be wondering if I am ever going to be nice to him again. Even the goofy smile and puppy eyes don't cut it when he has been a gitlike as he has been today. I do like to send them to sleep feeling that they made it through another day without being sold to the gypsies though, so I shall go over and grit my teeth ( one less in number and gaping hole seems still to be throbbing like the very devil) and be a nice mummy in the hope that he will please go to sleep and stop talking to me because it is 9.45 and I stop liking children at 7pm. Maybe it is time to stop the naps after all. Damn.

Bricks and mortar, home is where the heart is etc.

There you see, whine in the night-time, all changes in the day. H woke up and got with it wouldn't you know? He didn't get on his laptop, so I know he didn't read my blog.....he certainly didn't read the weepy 'woe is me you don't love me' email I sent him at 6am when I was sobbing and swearing about my DAMN TOOTH THAT STILL HURTS. He just got up and did stuff and my goodness, can we move when we do it together?? We are moving, really....it shows!
H spent the day at the house working on the garden/ jungle.
I had a nap, a coma like nap for 2 hours, I needed that.
I feel weird about this new house. I honestly haven't ever felt like this about moving before, if I were to try and describe how I feel it would be to say I am a bit shy about this house.
It is certainly a house that I would never have even thought about before, not my style and I think I feel a bit in awe of it.
I am cross with myself for feeling like this, because it smacks of feeling inferior or not worthy and we all know that I am as good as the next poor person! I think also that it all has to do with not choosing it. Any of it. Not choosing to leave this house, not choosing to live in the new house, just sort of picked up and put there and ...well you know. Not being in control.
Having said all that........ this kitchen???


I can SO live with that kitchen!

And sitting here in the evening, with the windows open and the summer smells...and sounds of the country....

BRING IT ON!

So far the move is turning out to be the least stressful I have ever experienced, most of our things are already there, on wednesday I think we may have just one trip with the truck carrying the really heavy stuff, we'll be able to take our time, move things as and when we feel like it. We are ready for some relaxation ( jaccuzzi.......JACCUZZI and quite heavenly peaceful surroundings!) En suite bathroom, you know how posh we felt having 2 bathrooms when we moved here....now we'll have THREE. A veritable plethora of places to pee and show me a mother that wouldn't get excited at the fact that one bathroom is in an entirely different building......follow me THERE and shout through the door if you dare!!
I have a feeling that H will disappear often and spend many a long moment thanking the powers that be for the toilet, that is far from the madding crowd.
I think I am excited.
I just have to get past cleaning the stove. And the rest. The emptier this house gets the dirtier is looks. It looks very unloved and battered right now, lots of junk left lying around, rooms neglected and nothing lovely. Our soul isn't here anymore. Not our home anymore. Just a shell. Just goes to show that it's not the bricks and mortar that make a home, is it? ( doesn't hurt to have some nice bricks to start with though does it?)
So, a good day apart from the tooth, face ache is still there, not as bad but if I leave it too long in between pain killers it is still pretty horrific. The weekend isn't going to be fun if it doesn't get better, I don't think the dentist has an emergency surgery on saturday. Enough about the tooth already, I am sick of talking about it. If it still hurts at all on monday I am going to get her to pull the blasted thing.

I think I'll keep him.

I just have to write about H. Funny that he is such a huge part of everything I do but he gets the tiniest mention here occassionally. Today he gets the limelight.
He is, quite frankly, a bit splendid. I am completely convinced that he and I were made for each other.
As time goes by, I see more and more in H that is admirable. The way he is with our boys makes me love him more and more. He has so many unique ideas with them, I am sure when they are grown they will have so many fabulous memories.
He reads with them every night, he spends about 30 minutes while they are settling in bed reading with them, when it is time for bed ( 8pm) he takes from behind his chair a little lantern, every evening one of the boys gets to be the 'leader' and light the way to bed. I love that.....how special do those boys feel when it is their turn? They like bedtime, it is part of the day that they look forward to ( me too me too!!) it is the ultimate punishment, when limits have been pushed, when they are told that there will be no story time. If daddy stays in his chair and mummy does bedtime, they know that they have gone too far and not listened.
I mentioned yesterday that he names everything, if he cooks dinner it always has a name. Buffalo burgers for example.
Every park we go to has a name, spiderman park, duck park, grandma's park, train park. They never go for a walk, they go on hikes.
He reads sciptures to them, everyday he teaches them abouts God and Jesus Christ. They remeber what he says too!
Last week , oh hang on I have to tell you something first. H and I are incredibly modest around the house, mainly because we have always had teenagers around, we have had to make sure we are covered when we wander around the house ...especially as the teenagers were 'step'kids. So, the boys rarely see us undressed if at all.
Last week, we were all waiting in the front room for him to come in and read......he walked in, in nothing but a skimpy towel, carrying a tray with a jar of honey and some pictures of locusts! I wish I could post the picture because to the side of H, is Seth..hands over his mouth with the most incredible look of hilarity / astonishment on his face. The point is, they learned about John the baptist, what he did, how he lived, who he was, they will remember. ( with Isaac sending most of the time trying to look UP the towel " have you got underwear on? HAVE YOU!?"...yes he did. )


Ahhh, the marvel of photoshop!
Look at that face! Shame the chaos of tea time hasn't been cropped out! This room is a hazard area by the time these boys go to bed!
He is maddeningly calm, while I am running around wailing WOE IS ME ! He is sitting, waiting to see how things pan out. I react, he responds. I hear half a story and ARGH! HELP! WHAT TO DO? WHAT TO DOOOOOO???
He hears, waits, listens, sees then decides. Great job when you can do it! Makes me want to smack him at times but he is actually just what I need.
I think I'll keep him, he ain't bad for a bald headed old fart.

A napsack on my back....

Well, the easter hols are over, back to school on monday. We have had a splendid time, busy and fun. H and I have taken turns taking the boys out so that whoever is left at home can get some work done. These boys are delightful when entertained, we can take them anywhere and they are a joy. If, however we leave them to occupy themselves, oh dear.
Oh DEAR.
They are hellions. One morning they were playing in the front yard I was in our room so could hear them, ah, bless are so happy and peaceful and playing....when will I learn? I looked out the window and what did I see? Flower pots emptied and earth and soil spread, quite evenly all over the courtyard. Also, Elijah escaping, again, watched by a dear old lady who was saying
" Does your mummy know you're going out...hey! HEY! Does your mummy let you get out???" As I hurtled out and after him her voice followed me saying " You don't get a minutes peace with that one do you dear?" No, we don't, but would we have it any other way?
H took them out today on a hike, a real one...miles of walking and walking and looking and talking. They went to paradise island, I love the way H gives everything and everywhere a name. Apparently, paradise island was a little stream like place where they were in paradise because they stood and threw big old rocks in the water, over and over again, the ran in the water, they were very wet, VERY dirty, hungry and NOT TIRED when they got home, how can that be? They walked about 4 miles.....it is hot, how can they get home, having been out for 5 hours, have a bath, eat dinner and STILL be bouncing and loud?
They took about 17 seconds to fall asleep when they had their story but right up until they went up the stairs they were full of bounce and energy.
I have felt so much better today, none of that horrible uncertainty, I am at peace with knowing that it is all out of my hands. I know that we will wither be able to stay here or we will get a council house. All we have to do it wait it out, keep cleaning and organising and wait for the verdict!
Today.....wait for it... I cleaned the cooker, inside. How disgusting is that job? Ewwwww. I bought this fabulous kit, you spread some gel inside the oven, then you put the trays/ oven shelves in a tough plastic bag, pour the rest of the gel stuff in the bag, shake it a bit and leave it. 4 hours later those babies are GLEAMING! I just rinsed it all off and saw beautiful shiny oven things.
Where was this stuff when I was married to the first one and living in army housing? The hours and hours I spent scrubbing those blackened oven shelves, weeping and swearing and promising that when the day came that I would have my very own stove, I would never clean it, I would use it 'til I couldn't shut the door for filth and then I would throw it away and buy a new one. ( and I did just that ..once, just because I felt I had to keep the promise) Now, of course, we are back in rented accommodation with cooker supplied, so with the discovery of this marvellous yet toxic stuff that would strip the skin off your arms as easily as it melts the grime off your stove, well life seems to have taken on new meaning. I might find that I can always have a sparkling cooker and be able to open it if we have guests, I could pretend I was on a cookery show and make big sweeping movements as I put trays of something delicious in to bake.
Imagine a life without cooker shame. Can you? It's almost too much isn't it?
Does blood pressure make you giddy? I am so dizzy. I hope it's just a case of getting used to it. This getting older lark isn't much fun is it? At least my pelvic floor is holding out, no leaking as of yet. Thank the Lord for enormous mercies.
I have had 5 hours sleep in the past 3 days, that's not enough even for me, resident insomniac. I am going to bed very soon and it is only 10.30...that's like early afternoon to me. How exciting, an early night. I must get out more.