Isaac, my Isaac is 8.
It seems like yesterday that he came into the world after a gloriously pain free labour, my only one with an epidural. I read the 2nd Bridget Jones diary while I laboured, in perfect peace, all alone. The nurse came to do one of her checks and told me I was fully dilated, the baby was high though so she told me that it would be a while before he was born, I explained that if I was at 10cm, this baby would be out in minutes...she did that infuriating thing of sighing and said " No honey, this baby is too high, he could be a while" She had me turn onto my side, put an oxygen mask on me, walked away and as she left she knocked the buzzer onto the floor, then she shut the door.
I was facing the monitor that was registering my contractions and Isaac's heartbeat and I saw that his heartbeat had gone down to 55 beats a minute, hmm....not going up...hey, epidural or not I feel a head...."HEY!!! HELLO!!!!! EXCUSE ME!!!! The baby is coming out! The BABY IS COMING OUT!" I could hear the nurses right outside my door, talking in a regular voice, I dragged the mask off my face and I screamed bloody murder "MY BABY IS COMING OUT!!!! HEEEEEEEEELP! HEY! His heartbeat is REALLY LOW and he is COMING OUT!
At last I felt someone behind me ( I was facing away from the door by the way) and I was so relieved, it was H, I had called him when they said I was at 10cm, he came to the hospital and left his big boy Rob with Seth in the hallway, I told him the baby was coming out and I had been screaming and no-one was coming, he wasn't convinced that the baby really was coming and so I said "look, look and see if you can see anything!" So he did, and indeed he did see a head..still in the sac.. " Oh geez, OK, hang on" He went outside and in seconds a whole herd of midwives ran in, they saw what H had seen, one ran out to grab the nearest doctor and told me to push as hard as I could because this baby was in trouble and needed to come out NOW. ( really? As opposed to like 15 minutes ago while I was screaming the place down and you just kept yakking outside the door?) They popped the bag and I pushed and he shot out like a bullet.
He was born not breathing and without a heartbeat, they were scared, I was scared and also really REALLY angry.
They got him breathing and whisked him away telling me that he had to be monitored for at least 3 hours. They didn't have a room ready for me so I was just going to go 'in here' until a room was available.
'In here' was a store cupboard. Bandages and spare stuff, packs of this and rolls of that.
3 hours is an awfully long time to be in a cupboard without your baby and no-one to talk to.
I spent the time trying to remember the fleeting glimpse of baby they had flashed me as they took my new baby away. I knew he was dark, darker than Seth who had been very fair and with little hair. I remembered he had very dark hair and beautiful olive skin.
I wondered what his name should be and suddenly I knew he should be Isaac.
I wondered if H would be back soon, I tried not to cry because I was so far away from home, I was living with H, Seth, Sophie, Rob, at H's house and his brother lived there too. I loathed that man, he made me cry pretty much every single day I lived there. He was more spiteful than any woman I have ever encountered and that includes the mean girl at school who made my life a living hell. That man took his misery out on my kids and on me, he would follow me around the house when H was out, muttering such mean things, he would tell me lies about H . Anyway ( whee that was a tangent wasn't it? Perhaps I am not quite as over that as I thought!) At about 7 o'clock, after 2 hours in the cupboard, the door opened and H popped his head around the door, I was so happy to see him, he said that his dad, brother, oldest son, nephew and Seth were here too and where was the baby? I told them he was in the nursery being watched carefully, " Oh, great...." and they left.
Without coming back. At all.
I got a room and eventually they brought Isaac to me, he cried, oh how he cried, I cried too, as much as he did and I waited, in that room, with not a soul, not a card, a flower, a visit.
I poked my head around the door to see if there was any sign of life anywhere and it was like a whole other world out there. People with helium balloons and flowers, happy waddling ladies with family and friends and sweet sleeping babies, I shut the door so quickly and I looked at the jug of water on my bedside table and I thought about how, if I had been here, at home, in England, how I would have visitors and flowers and people smiling at me as though I had done something clever and miraculous and splendid. Then I cried a bit more.
And Isaac cried.
At 9pm, I called the house and asked H if he was coming back at all. He asked me if I wanted him to, as though that was a weird sort of request made out of hormonal instability.
"Well, yes, I would like that, I know you saw the baby and I know you have had a busy time, going out to eat and celebrate and everything but hello? Yes, come here, now!"
**I think H had a huge case of post partum arseholeness, I hear some men get that and he had the worst case ever recorded. It lasted a long while and if I even begin to record anything on here I might then be transported back in time, forget it is in the past and go upstairs and hit him really hard, while he sleeps with a brick. Twice.
Isaac screamed for 5 and a half months.
Seth was 11 months when Isaac was born.
We all lived in one room, one 12ft by 8ft room. A double bed and a cot and a pack and play.
Memories. I had postpartum apathy, that was a blessing I tell you, whenever I felt anything akin to anger....meh, can't be bothered. Apart from with the Brother in Law, I went from a tongue biting, long suffering victim of incessant bullying to giving as good as I got, H's dad and even H were unaware of what was happening, they would see that the idiot and I wouldn't speak to each other and I would occasionally, over dinner I might say things like " How was your day? Oh that's good, lovely weather we're having and Oh and by the way, I hate your brother, you may come home and find him dead one day, more green beans?"
Other than that, I loved my babies, I would put them in the double stroller and we walked for miles and miles every day, anything to stay out of that house, to avoid that miserable shite who worked 1 or 2 days a week and the rest of the time picked on me.
One day, I was on the phone to my mum, here in England, he had this thing about my using the phone. H and I paid the phone bill, we used the phone and internet and because I would call my mum, it seemed fair that we paid the bill. H's dad wouldn't ever take money from us, so I would look for the bill and pay it without him ever seeing it. Anyway this one day he followed me around the house as I spoke to my mum, he was an inch away from my back and he was hissing " on the phone to England again are you? 27 minutes, any idea who much you are costing my dad? Get off the phone, he'll be home in a minute you think he likes coming home to see you and those brats here every day, day in day out? Get off the phone....." I ignored him, I walked around the house and everywhere I went, there he was.
I went into the tiny pantry / laundry room and I was trying to tell my mum what was happening, he followed me in there and I was pushed against the washing machine and then something in me snapped. I stood up straight and I said to my mum " Oh sorry mum, you didn't hear what I said when I was whispering? I was telling you that H's brother is following me around and hissing at me....I'll call you back later, right now I am going to hurt him.....bye!"
And I threw the phone down and turned to face him......well what do you know? He'd gone, he'd heard what I said and run, he RAN into his room and locked the door. I hammered on his door and then I took as many steps back as I could, it's a small house...and then I ran and I picked up both feet and threw myself against his door....just as it flew open, H walked in through the door. Who knows what I might have done had H not walked in. It did result in my telling both him and his dad what had been going on and also explaining that I would not be cooking for, speaking to or acknowledging him in anyway from then on. I was true to my word.
Hello tangent, we're having fun this evening aren't we?
Isaac was a tough baby, now I look back I can understand why, poor little thing, all that stress and he must have sensed it all. Me and him against the world, having who can cry the most competitions from 5am until midnight every day. At 5 and a half months, he woke up as happy as a clam and he has been a veritable delight ever since.
He had such a lovely birthday, he had 3 of his most longed for model cars ( " Oh a FERRARI! This day cannot get any better!) he had money in one of his cards ( the last one he opened, he opened the others and said "hmm, don't people know about putting money in cards? Then he opened gramma's and said " There you go! That's what I'm talking about, SHE knows how to do it!)
Then we told him to go and wake Elijah up quietly, while he was upstairs we brought his bike in, and leant it against the foot stool in the front room. He has seen this bike online and shown me the picture over and over. We went to get an inner tube for H's bike this week and he ran in saying " OH! I can show you that bike for real, not just a picture! He ran around the bike shop and then said " Oh, it's gone, someone must have bought it, never mind"
When he came back in he gasped and said " Is that MINE? and over and over he said " Yes! YES" Finally, YES!" He kissed the seat and he stroked it and he sighed many times.


He is so cool, isn't he?

** Happy to report that H recovered from his PPA and became quite the nicest H that he is today, brother in law is still an idiot but so far away it couldn't matter less. All in all I think things have turned out pretty well. Jolly good.

I am sure I have written all this before, poor Isaac, he gets a whiny old self pitying post every year on his birthday. Isaac if you ever read this, you are so worth it, you are a glorious and splendid boy.
Happy Birthday my Isaac, I love you.

Weeeeee. YIP!

I have a new kid. I have no idea where he came from or who he is, I hope he doesn't stay long because he is exactly the kind of kid I have always been so smug about because, thank the Lord I don't have *that* kind of kid.
The new kid is inside Isaac's body. The beautiful face is the same, the eyes are still great big brown puddles of meltingness. He still gets dressed when everyone else is asleep and still likes dinner for breakfast,
I took the regular Isaac into school, went to pick him up and while I was waiting outside Elijah's classroom, with the regular other parents who have seen Isaac from a little big eyed silent boy, hiding behind his blanket, they know him, they are used to him and many of them love his bizarre little self.
The other regular parents and I were stunned today when this kid that looked like Isaac came hurtling around the corner from the classroom where Isaac learns.....and WHO IS THAT KID???
"YIP! YIP! ECK!!!!!! YIP! "
"Isaac?"
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!"
"ISAAC! What in the world? what is that noise?"
"YIP!!!!!! I CAN'T SHUT MY GOBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB!"
"Please try"
"YIP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Ha. "

4 hours later he was still doing it, not all the time but out of the blue...


YIP!

I wanted to crawl under a soft thing and shut my ears because it is too freaky.
It is so close to a Tourettes kind of yipping.
Every time I forgot he was doing it and we were busy doing something or other,
YIP.....I jumped out of my skin at least 35246 times from when he came home until he went to bed.
Please someone tell me this is a fleeting phase, that he is not about to start doing this on a regular basis. I asked him if he had done that in his class today and he just laughed, this really awful maniacal laugh, which could mean " why yes, I did and my teacher loved it as much as you do, I Can barely wait until tomorrow to do it all over again because this being the center of attention is so GREAT!! What have I been missing YIP! WEEEEEEEEEE. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Can they switch? These autistic kids, can they get bored with being a kid with aspergers and upgrade to another level? I truly didn't know who he was today.
We have seen in the past few months a difference in that he has moments where he has some wild running around and jumping spates, he either hates anyone looking at him or he craves it.
It's like he is two different kids. The quiet, selectively mute one and this new FULL VOLUME CRAZY ONE.
I swear as soon as I ever think I just about have all this stuff under control and yep, uh huh, would you look at me because I have it ALL worked out, along comes a new bag of crazy.
Boredom wouldn't be SO bad would it? You know wake up and get through the day and lie down at night thinking " that was OK, nice, yes, my life is ordered and calm"

He didn't go to school at all yesterday, I got up and he was in his pyjamas, ( unheard of on a weekday) he said he felt sick and his eyes filled up and were all sad looking, he went back to bed and all day he was quiet, not sick but very quiet. As soon as 3.30pm came he was miraculously cured.
He should have had swimming yesterday, he went on week one and loved it, wouldn't get in the pool last week, his teacher spoke with me and we thought it was because he forgot he had swimming, he remembered right as he was leaving the house and grabbed Eli's costume, which is the same as his. I understand how that would make him feel uncomfortable and unable to get changed, other than that I don't see why he would want to miss school. No-one ever makes him do things that he finds too hard, swimming isn't a big deal, no one is going to mind if he really can't join in. All we can do is wait until next tuesday to see if we have a problem again.

We don't take Isaac anywhere, from diagnosis to today he has had speech therapy and that's it. We love him, we have muddled along and somehow he is leaping ahead and defying all the bleak sentences he was given when he was 5. This new phase is making me think he should get a check up, I am going to see his teacher and find out of he has been disruptive in the classroom, I hope that it's more a case of having been extra quiet and still he needs to run and shout and YIP YIP it all out of his system when he gets home.
It's still 5 weeks until the end of the school year, I am ready RIGHT NOW for it to be done, the weather has been great and we could have had many a splendid day out, I am tired of uniforms and getting ready early, of packed lunches and routine.
I think the boys are ready too, Seth is, as always so immersed in everything school has to offer he is in as many sports teams as he can manage and is always picked to play for the school in tournaments, he loves school and school loves him, when we walk through the playground after school, kids from reception to year 10 are high fiving him and calling his name, the teeny tots run up to him and he knows all their names, he goes out of his way to wave and call to the kids. I love that he enjoys whatever he is doing at the time.
He can argue with a bare wall, he's like a terrier with a rat.

This has taken a ridiculous amount of time to write and now I am boring myself, why any minute now I am going to run around the front room YIP YIP YIPPING....hey that feels pretty good.

Money talks ( as does chocolate)

So, I should probably tell you one small point about the whole Isaac singing and dancing thing. You can see how close I was to him, I had a lump in my throat as he sang and I whispered to him "Can you wave your arms?!
"No, I can't"
"Are you sure, because I bet you could if you really tried!"
"No, I can't move them!"
"I'll give you a pound!"
"I can't!"
"£2!"
And then he danced.

Bribery is a great thing, sometimes it works really well.
We bribe them every sunday actually. The whole sunday morning routine was getting to me to the point I was dreading sundays round about friday lunch time, I knew we had to do something about it and so we came up with the idea of reading about Sundays in the scriptures, making a big deal of the whole " with cheerful heart and countenance" I so wanted to put a stop to Seth's saturday night fever, his regular as clockwork self diagnosing of near terminal disease every single saturday night and his set your clock by him dragging out of bed at 8.30 with the worst case of sundayitis you ever are likely to see.
I understand why he finds sundays difficult, he is smart, he loves scripture, he discusses it with Howard, he really knows his stuff, then he trots into Primary every week and is taught regular lessons for 8 year olds and I suspect he feels his brain atrophy as he sits there feeling he is surrounded by total dimwits.
I explained that this is a fabulous opportunity for him to contribute, to use his knowledge and intelligence to share with his friends and to try and bring alive for them the stories he knows so well. That has helped and his teacher seems to love having him in her class.
Sunday mornings were still very tough for us and add to that the general insanity of getting little boys dressed and fed and in the right frame of mind to sit still for 3 hours ( heh! Any ideas? ) So, we worked out a system that works so well and I am pretty sure I have explained how it works before....in a nutshell they get money every saturday to spend on whatever treat they choose, each week the amount raises by 5p ( in order to keep the dream alive and fresh!!) when they come home, they put the treats on the mantle and they can look at them and dream of that moment when they come home and can eat it ALL.
They have to get up and get ready for church WITHOUT complaint, they have to be reverent and cheerful in primary ( where the kids go for 2 hours to sing and learn) and then they have to be quiet and reverent during the main meeting, they can take quite books, writing pads and pens, no toys and they cannot disrupt the meeting for other people.
I think we have been doing this for 6-8 weeks or more and it still WORKS, I can't tell you how great it is to get ready with co-operative children, there have been 2 occasions where we have had to take away treats, oh how that hurt, how they cried and apologised and promised and cried some more on those days where they did not get to eat all the treats.
Seth has never lost any treats, Isaac came very close and Eli, twice, blew it!
Today was different, today we didn't go to church, we stayed at home to watch general conference...I so wanted to hear what the prophet had to say, I wanted to hear the music and the speakers who always have such gentle and wise things to say.
We set the front room up with the boys' recliners, they had paper and pens and there was a snack waiting.
I explained that during the conference I Was going to make some comments, ask some questions and I wanted them to listen, I told them that tomorrow I am going to hide some plastic eggs in the house , inside the eggs would be questions relating to the things I was going to comment on, they were going to find the eggs and every time they get a question right, they would get a reward. That worked so well, Isaac lost the plot at one stage ( right after the snack when he ate a fruit roll up...seems they have the same effect as chocolate on him, devil on crack in a nutshell) I sent him out to sit on the stairs ( "YEAY! GOOD! I hate this anyway I am so BORED!!" to which I replied, "very good, go and sit on the stairs then, what a shame though that while you are out there will be some points you will miss and dear me, you won't get those prizes will you?")
Oh my goodness, how quickly he was sorry and sure to be a good boy and I WANT TO LISTEN because I want to find the eggs and answer and you CAN'T MAKE ME MISS IT!
Bribery is great. I highly recommend it.
We have noticed how as Isaac makes strides outside the home he is finding life at home more challenging ( or should I say WE are finding life at home more challenging?) He has tantrums and outbursts, so much crying and slamming of doors, so many screaming fits and throwing of things. We have also noticed that he is very clingy lately, he wants to be held and hugged and is clinging to one of us most of the time. I started to hug him really tightly and he would say " Oh I love that feeling" if I put both hands on his head and actually apply pressure he almost groans! I swear I can feel the tension drain out of him as I squeeze his head ( come here little boy and let me SQUEEZE YOUR HEAD!)
Today he had a spate of really pushing the limits, he was just revolting and disobedient, teasing Eli to the point of screaming and when I would try and get him to stop he laugh in my face...the third time he did it, something in me snapped and I was right in his face and so angry, I told him that I was so close to smacking him he had better get upstairs in his room and stay there until he could behave and I was calm again. Getting that irate with him is a terrible thing, I hate feeling so close to the edge of losing all control until I remember that I DIDN'T lose it, I felt furious, I didn't act on it, which is the difference between good and very very bad. I don't think it hurts a child to know that they have pushed the limits a step too far, as long as it's not a regular occurrence. I'm not sure there are any parents out there that never feel close to losing control, I'd like to meet them if there are and see what kind of unnatural children they have too!
Shame there isn't a mantle full of treats waiting for me if I get through each day without losing my cool!
Talking of treats...I am so excited about this week, we are going to be having a week of treats and sharing. A happy time for all I hope. I wish I would stop eating the treats though, for heaven's sake I am useless at the whole dieting things lately and if I don't stop RIGHT NOW, I am going to find myself right back where I started and we all know how well that will sit..... pppttthhhhhhhhh, why doesn't healthy food taste like crusty bread or chips smothered in vinegar? Why isn't fat considered beautiful and flab a thing to be sought after?
Seems control is something I am very short of lately...can you buy it on Ebay?

Why yes, THAT kind of mother!

Today has been a huge day. HUGE. It didn't start out that way at all. I woke up with that glorious feeling of having absolutely nothing planned at all. Nothing. I love that, the thought of a day of being at home, lazing around, pottering and doing whatever I choose.
That lasted 'til 7.45am... whoot! Isaac had toothache, again. He gets toothache and then it goes and then it comes back and the spaces in between have been getting shorter and shorter, today I knew we couldn't ignore it and so when he went to school I called the dentist and they said I could bring him in at 10am. That caused immediate problems, no notice things with Isaac, are traumatic for Isaac ( and therefore, for me!) I called the school and explained and they were great, they went right to his classroom and told him that he was going to get his tooth fixed and gave him an hour or so to think about it and prepare himself.
When I went to get him, at 9.45 he said " Great, so we'll be back here by 10.15, yes?" Well, no, they said that maybe we could be there for anything up to 2 hours....at this piece of news he lost the plot, big ploppy tears and sobbing about missing playtime and then his day would be all out of whack and he has to be in school, its thursday!
I took an iPod ( because I am so clever and organised!) and he didn't want it, he didn't want to read or listen or draw or do anything except wait for the dentist and tell me how many people were waiting and ask me how long THAT would take and what time he would get back to school.
Then he asked for the iPod ( thank goodness, chill Isaac!) because he wanted to see the time and give me reports " 10.12am....... Playtime is at 10.30"
Marvel of marvels at 10.14 am we were called in and I held my breath because sometimes he will not open his mouth, he will clamp his hand over those lips and he isn't letting go for anything, not nobody.
Not today, he sat in the chair and the dentist looked into his wide open mouth....and she told us that he had a huge abscess that oozed when she touched it, she said it was under his tooth and that he must have been in horrible pain. She told Isaac that she had to drill and fix it and was that OK?



He sat, with his mouth wide open and he let her drill, scrape, clean, rinse, fill and poke..with NO ANAESTHETIC! None, not even numbing gel. His only help was the immovable stare in my direction.....this look....



Which is sort of touching but that drill sound? That makes me want to stick my fingers in my ears and squeeze my eyes tight shut but he is looking at me, mummy is here and if I look at her she will make sure this is OK. Can I say often enough how much I adore this child of mine?
When she was done ( remarkably quickly because when the patient just sits and doesn't blink, flinch, cry, complain, well how long does it take?) he jumped up and said " 10.28, 2 minutes, QUICK!" I signed papers and we took them to the front desk, and we were supposed to wait for a follow up appointment..but this sweet boy was so frantic and so jiggy that I said I would call and set up the appointment because if ever a boy deserved to call the shots it was this one, at this time.
We drove the 2 minutes to school and ...what? No-one in the playground, what is happening? Are we early, late? What? Where is playtime?
We walked through the doors and he was off, through the double doors to his classroom....I signed him back in and was chatting with Donna and he came back, a flood of tears, fat old heartbreaking tears and he shoved his head into my side and whispered " Oh I missed it!" He is so beautiful and he is so delicious that the office staff shot up, they declared that this can't be right and they were going to SEE where playtime had gone!
2 minutes later Donna was back and hoorah ..assembly had run overtime, all was well, if he went into the hall he could see the last of assembly and then PLAYTIME. Oh but this is all too much and to ask Isaac to walk into an assembly hall, to risk having people turn around and Look at him....he just couldn't do it. I calmed him down and told him that I would sit with him in reception until assembly was over and then he could go out to play.
Phew.
We decided that we would creep to his classroom, very quietly past the hall and put his bag and lunch box back where they belong and come back to reception to wait for playtime ( which was LATE! Who is running this shambles anyway?!)
Just as we reached his classroom that we thought would be deserted, out came the classroom assistant who was thrilled to see Isaac and in that undeniably teacherish way said " ISAAC! Splendid, just in time for the last bit of assembly..come on then!" and she grabbed his hand and off they went, with his precious face turned towards me and those fat tears streaming down his face because THIS IS NOT THE PLAN!!!! SAVE MEEEEEEEEEEE!
I nearly became THAT kind of mother. The mother of a precious snowflake and GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM LADY! But I didn't.
I just muttered " oh that's horrible.....oh dear...." to Donna and left, gulping and thinking how really he should just stay at home with me because dammit, life is so hard sometimes and every single day he has to force himself to fight against the longing to just. not. do. it.
I stayed busy all day because he is my heart, this boy.
It wasn't over yet...he was invited to a party, a real big boys party in a city away from our town, in someone else's car, with people and NOT ME.
He was excited because it was at the bowling alley and this boy has been desperate to go bowling for weeks now.
He was terrified because he would have to
a) get changed. This is a huge thing for Isaac, we cleared the panic by deciding that he would take a favourite jacket in his backpack and after school he would take off his sweatshirt and wear the jacket and he would look good and be comfortable.
b) talk to people.
c) Eat
d) Go in a car with someone else's mummy but not his.
e) not be able to tell anyone what time it was and how long they had to get home!

I was pretty sure that he would balk at the last minute. I met him at school with Oliver's gift and card and some jazzy new shoes I knew he would adore. He grabbed the shoes and put them on, with his jacket and gave me his sweatshirt and then he ran towards Oliver, someone tried to grab the giftbag and he very clearly and loudly said "HEY! It's for Oliver not you!!" I watched him laugh with the 4 boys that were going bowling and give Oliver his gift ( another first, he has always refused to give gifts, he hands them to us and says " you give it, tell them it's from me")
Olivers' mum arrived and he left with her! Without batting an eye! He didn't even turn around to see if I was weeping or anything!
That's when I almost became THAT kind of mother, the kind that runs after her precious and tells them that maybe mummy should come too because he may NEED me, what if he NEEEEEDS me and I'm not there and he can't speak?
But I didn't. I came home and I waited for FOUR HOURS and he came home and said THANKYOU to Olivers mum, he did he said thankyou and he never does, not until he is sure they can't hear him, he stares at me and wills me to say it for him.
Oh my Isaac. You are beginning to not need me.
The trouble is, I still need you to need me, because I am THAT kind of mother.

Leaps and bounds and the odd creep backwards.

I am in awe of Isaac lately, he is becoming such a real person, the man he will be.
I watch him and how hard he works to be in the world when it would be so easy to opt out. Speaking, outside the home is so hard for him, at times impossible and there are still so many occasions when my heart leaps for him and because of him.
He is happy when he knows exactly what is happening, he is obsessed with time, to the minute, he watches the clock and explains what is happening and when it should happen, he will point out that Sophie's clock is one minute behind the front room clock, so if he is in there ( and he loves being in there, if she is working late he shuts himself in and curls up in her bed and watches cartoons) he makes sure we know that at 8.01pm he will come out because that is really 8.00pm and that is bedtime.
If we go out in the evening, as we did last week, he will tell us the time, every half hour or so and worry about what time we will go home, it isn't fun for him to stay out late, he frets and becomes agitated until we explain when we will be going home, when we get home he has to be able to relax before he goes to bed, he can't walk in and go to his room, that would be horrible for him.
Every evening he will say, before he goes to bed " uniform on my bed and lunch in the fridge please" just because he feels better if he reminds me that this makes his life happy!
On friday he came out of school and told me that he was going to Oliver's party. On Saturday, at the bowling alley. The problem was he didn't have an invite but he was so insistent, so sure that Oliver said he was going and I had to take him.
Of course we didn't go because I had no invite, we knew not where or when or how...he was so cross and naturally it was me ruining his whole life because he longs to go bowling.
Today, as he ran out of his classroom a lady came up to me and explained that she was Oliver's mum, Liz, that Oliver was having a party and would love Isaac to come. Isaac's face lit up and then Liz asked him what he would like to eat at the party, she said there was a choice of pizza, fish fingers, chicken nuggets, sausage with chips. Isaac stared at me with his huge eyes and willed me to answer for him, I could see he was desperate to answer and his sweet mouth just would not open. I explained to Liz that Isaac sometimes has trouble speaking to people and asked if she would mind if he told me and I would tell her, of course she said she didn't mind at all and so I looked at Isaac and asked him what he would choose. Normally he will put his mouth next to my ear and whisper so quietly that even I can't hear, today he looked at me and said, very clearly, " All of it!"
The plan is that he leave school with Liz and Oliver after school on thursday and then they will drop him off after the party. He has never, EVER gone home with anyone after school, he has never gone to a party without my having to go along and talk for him. He is ( right now) completely unworried, he says he will go and will speak to Liz and Oliver. I will wait and see.
It's bitter sweet to see how he copes with every day life, I am so proud of him and I understand him, he can be so infuriating and touching. He is the kindest boy and such friends with Elijah, every day he watches out for Eli, every day he runs out of his class and straight over to Eli's class, he finds Eli and pats his head, puts his arm around him and asks how his day was and is he is happy. Then Seth comes out and he and Isaac fight all the way home!
I am so proud of the way he struggles against all the things that are hard for him, so endlessly touched by how desperately he still needs us close by to support him as he tries to speak, as he needs his worries explained. There is nothing I would change about this boy.



And also....I am pretty sure he couldn't be more beautiful, could he?

On bravery and chivalry.

So the boys are back at school. We were on time, Isaac makes sure of that.
Last friday he started the count down, " 6 Days til we go back to school! Are the uniforms ready? Where are they? Shall I put mine on the end of my bed? How about now? Now? Where are they?"
Every day until monday, he told us how long. On monday
" 3 Uniforms and 2 packed lunches, shall I put mine at the bottom of my bed? Will you do it, it IS ready isn't it? What will you put in my lunch?"
Monday night
" It's 16 minutes to 8, we go to bed at 8 when it's school tomorrow, we don't have iPods when it's school, dad DAD DAD! It's 8 o'clock QUICK! Bedtime, come ON!"
On tuesday,
" 48 minutes til we leave ( and he came down at 6am on the dot, fully dressed, ready for school.)
Bless his heart he was so anxious.



I watched him as the time got closer and closer to leave and I saw real bravery. I tried to imagine how it must feel to be so worried about every day things, I remember how terrified I would be of the first day at a new school, how anxious I would feel if we were to have a new teacher but I don't think I have any idea just how deep Isaac's anxiety goes.
He feels levels of fear that I can only try to imagine and yet as he gets older he fights those feelings so hard.
In times past he would hold onto the door frame of his classroom, tears streaming but not a sound would escape him. He would hide and wrap himself in blankets and refuse to get dressed. Now it seems he is super ready, obsessively checking that things are ready. He prepares and then he tries so hard not to cry. To watch him taking deep breaths, checking his school bag, making sure his lunch is in order I am in awe of how hard just living is for him at times.
H takes him into his classroom and rather than holding onto the door he holds onto H and whispers instructions " ask Mr W if I have P.E today" H will check and then they look on the computer where Mr W has the days timetable written down. " ask if he wants to see my new History book but tell him I don't want to show him, I will put it on the table and he can see it but I don't want to talk to him about it" SO H talks to Mr W and will show him where the book is.
He holds onto H and then when the bell goes, he takes a huge breath in and then pushes H away and says " Go now!"
Imagine feeling that most days. As the term goes on, he gets less anxious. Then just as he gets to relax more, it is half term again and he has to go through it all again.
Seth does nothing for school, until he gets there when he starts with the " Did you pack my P.E kit?" and " I have to hand a form in today, did you sign it?" Drives. Me. Crazy!
H and were excited about school yesterday, usually I like the school break, I like not having to do uniforms, lunches, school runs, we have fun when they are home. This break was painful, for reasons we have no clue about, it was so long and the boys were either hyper or bored, hyper, bored. I was very ready for them to go back and be busy. H was craving the routine.
SO much so that as I waited outside the school, with the engine running to keep the car warm in this -5c weather , I looked up and saw, to my great delight and amusement that H was wearing socks and sandals! Heh! Ha. He hates getting his socks wet if he goes into the kitchen or bathroom so often he will throw his sandals on to avoid that......yesterday he was so keen to get the boys to school that he left and forgot the sandals and socks. Oh how I laughed! And laughed and then kept snickering because we went shopping right after and he had to walk around the 3 shops we went to in socks and sandals in minus degrees.
Walking around the second store, I stopped snickering ( and he started) when I saw that I had been out all morning with my T shirt on back to front. What a pair! We are a match made in Hopelessville! What hope do our children have, really?
I am enjoying H a lot lately, he makes me laugh with his quiet one-liners that are easy to miss if you're not ready for them. I feel lately that H and I are just beginning to know each other, the past years have been spent in a fog of babies and depression, getting on with it and getting through. These days we have more time to look around and enjoy what we see.
I love that he says things and then grimaces and will ask if he said 'that' outloud. I love that he is less afraid to say what he is thinking and less appalled when I let him know what I think about what he is thinking!
I am still thrilled that he is so polite, so gentlemanly ( is that a word? Yes, I am sure it is) and funny. I do love a man with manners. I might just keep him a while yet, especially since I discussed the beautiful ring with him and he said " Well, hmmmm, you seem to have the hwole thing worked out in your head already" and then agreed that sometimes its best to just go with the girlie notions at times as there advantages occassionally. Good man.

Shocking!

I am in shock here. Such a shameful tale to tell.

Isaac has lost only 3 teeth, the 2 bottom ones and one top one. His teeth are bizarre, the top ones are hollow and over time have been worn right down, the 2 top front teeth were little more than stumps. The dentist wasn't worried and said they would just come out when they were ready and we are to hope his big permanent teeth are good ones.

Such celebrations when that top tooth came out! This week...HOORAH! Out came the other one, he wrote the most impressive note to the tooth fairy, saying " Dear Tooth Fairy, I lost another tooth, please can you leave me a pound?" And the fairy did indeed leave a pound under Isaac's pillow, the daddy tooth fairy did it, he took the note ( which also included a very clever pouch that held the precious stumpy tooth) and I am not sure where he put it.

Isaac was so reluctant to show me his gappy mouth, not unusual, he isn't keen at being looked at or scrutinised so, although disappointed, I didn't push the issue, instead there was a special trip to W.H Smith to buy a pack of go-go crazy bones ( which are £1 a pack, how handy!)

2 days past and he still wouldn't flash me a toothless grin, in fact he was incredibly closed mouthed. You know why don't you? I bet you caught on so much quicker than I did.



He still has the tooth in his mouth!



*GASP* can you BELIEVE IT? My Isaac, my sweet, thoughtful, loving, gentle, lying little git Isaac.



How much thought went into that? Making the clever pouch and the note requesting a specific amount!? He is completely unrepentant, he grins from ear to ear when we exclaim at his dishonesty! He laughs and says that he is pretty sure that when the tooth DOES come out, the fairies will leave him money again because.....SUCKERS! Oh is he in for a rude awakening!



Today was a good day, Dan is down and he and Jordan took the boys all afternoon, went swimming with them and then they played with the Wii at Jordan's house.

I took Sophie for her interview, the one at the passport office, to make sure she is who she says she is and is not a terrorist or an Identity thief.

I filled in the application forms for her, called her dad, got his details etc.....to ensure it all got done in time. Watching Sophie fill in forms of any kind of painful, it makes my fingers twitch and my eyes swivel in their sockets. I do it for her, my bad.

Well that went well.....

"Can you tell me your father's full name?"

"No....He is Kevin Arsehat"

"His middle name?"

"I don't know....nope, no idea!"

" His date of birth?"

"Um, no, I do know he is older than my mum, who is 46 and so he is either 47 or 47 he is a bit older than her"

" Where does he live?"

"I have no idea, he is crap really, never been any good and I hardly see him....oh my mum filled in my form by the way"

"what about your mum?"

Luckily she knows all about me.....she didn't know what her previous address was ( gah...I can't remember what I wrote either, I can barely remember my last address! So many in so short a time!)

She was able to give them full details of her cell phone history and her closed down bank account, she even remembered where I was born ( which is impressive!)

I could hear her from outside the interview room, she has the loudest and most infectious laugh and she always finds situations like this hilarious, that ( so far ) is what helps her, she is so obviously telling the truth, any imposter would have at least learned the name of the father!

She said that the interviewer told her she didn't have anything to worry about but she couldn't tell her if she had passed . Now we wait until weds next week, if she doesn't pass that interview she will have to start all over again, resubmit the forms, pay the full fee again, send new pictures, attend another interview....I hope she doesn't have to do that because we simply don't have the time or money to do that. She is such a ditz! It's very lovable and touching but not always helpful.

She is not having fun at work, she is tired and I am having to make her ask for overtime, to go in on her days off, stay longer. She has one more payday before we go to Boston, when she is there she is going to want to buy everything she sees, she has to pay her bus ticket to and from the airport, her share of the hotel and meals. If she doesn't earn the money she will be SO miserable. She is just ready to go and have the fun now. Oh so many life lessons in such a short time. I hope when we get back she can find something else to work for, it will be tough if she doesn't because I think she is one of those people that needs to have a reason for doing things, it's tough for her to do things, just because.

We went into the new mall in the city we went to, it was huge, 5 floors and fabulous, we were very disciplined and didn't look in too many stores because we are saving what money we do have. 5 more weeks.

The preparations for the party on friday are going well, we have a pumpkin pinata ( a rare find indeed!) we have glow in the dark monster footprints, bats, ghosts, garlands, face paints, skeleton gloves.

I am making cupcakes and have all manner of gory decorations for them, I will do sausage rolls and sandwiches, people from church are bringing some goodies so I hope we have enough food. I'm sure everyone will eat before they come, it's just a matter of shoving as much sugar and orange, black and green food colouring into the kids before they go home and run across the ceiling! I always panic and go crazy, wanting to fill the home and guests with a banquet fit for a king, this year I have managed to stop myself by telling myself what I could buy with that money in Boston! I am trying to decide whether to play the doughnut game again...it makes SO much mess but the laughter is unbelievable and people have asked if they can do it again, if the weather is dry we can do that in the yard....inside it is asking for trouble!!
It's all coming right, I love it when a plan comes together, as does Isaac, it would seem!

Laughter, they say, is the best medicine ( with some added extras)

I have a blog and I almost forgot because STUFF and LIFE and LAUGHTER.
Can hardly believe it.
Where to start?
Maybe here....
Because, oh my, did we laugh. This is an exercise machine that you stand on, hold onto and then it shakes you, apparantly it makes you feel fabulous and refreshed and a tiny part of me wanted to have a go but look at how much MEls almost not there bottom jiggled and also Sophie's slightly more substantial but perfectly beautiful bits...


and the laughing...



And can you hear Jordan saying " but you're not meant to shake babies?" which is very touching but the baby is fine, he felt perhaps jiggled for 15 seconds and then it was over and all is well.
So sorry that the videos are sideways but I forget that you can't rotate them, oh well, you can get the gist of how we very nearly got thrown out of that lovely shop, we drew crowds because we laughed so loud and so hard for so long.

That baby is so ready to come out, a week, that's all until he is due. I can barely stand the excitement and am perfectly willing to admit that the very thought of meeting this little boy has my eyes watering and I may even have to take a few deep breaths because this baby is so adored and so precious to us, I love being a Nana before I have even seen him or touched him, before I even know his name. If I could I would knit tiny cardigans and booties, I would crochet blankets just so he would know how much I love him. So I could physically prove that, material evidence that Nana adores him. I have so much time as a Nana, no room to ready, no bags to pack, no nappies to buy or worries to nurse.
Just pure, unadulterated joy and anticipation.

I could share this...


and this

Of this little boy who is nearly 7. Who 3 years ago couldn't say a word, who hid and was afraid of so many things. Who now is passionate about Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis, every day, at some stage, he dresses like this and he sings, with so much passion and intensity. I want so much to tape him singing "Jenny Jenny" by little Richard. He won't let me because he says I will show people and he hates people looking at him. It is quite the most unbelievably touching thing.
*He sat next to H the other day, with eyes like saucers and earphones in, and he was shaking...he said " Oh..OH! This is GREAT, was just listening to this by the Beatles but they were rubbish compared to THIS...this is so GREAT!" ( Little Richard, Johnny be Good")* ( forgot that little nugget when I first wrote this)




He tries so hard to keep up and he does a splendid job, he never misses a "ooooooh!"
'Jenny jenny won't you come along OOOOOH, spinninspinninglikeaspinnin' top....OOOOOOOH!

He is my heart boy, completely fills my heart every single day. I wouldn't change a thing about this boy. I wonder if he has any idea how glorious he is.
Clothes are so important to him, I can't quite grasp how his mind works about clothes, his day is only 'right' when his clothes are right, there are times when I could scream with frustration because it all has to be exactly right, he cannot simply put on what is ready and in fact I have nothing more to do with his getting dressed other than doing the laundry. He knows where his clothes are, he knows what he needs to wear, he has them lined up ready, when he is ready for bed his next day clothes will be where he wants them to be, when he is dressed his night time clothes will be where he can find them. He never loses his shoes, he always knows where his things are, it matters to him. ( And it is quite the most glorious thing, unless I screw up, unless I forget something is washed but not dried, unless he can't find what he had ready and I moved because it needed to be washed and would have been washed and dried and put back, if that happens, the sky falls in. Loudly)
New clothes are an issue, sometimes I see something and know he will love it...and he won't even look at it because I didn't notice, before buying something that he sees immediately and cannot live with, a zip with a pull that is too wide, for instance, stitching that is insulting to the eye. I do not buy Isaac clothes now unless he is with me, short sleeved shirts that button up? Yegads! What was I thinking? We shop, I pick up, he glances for less than a second and he either nods or he turns away. If he nods I ask " Yes?" and he will answer "yes", then I say " Will you wear it?" and he will say " yes" and then I buy 2. Sometimes he will say yes to it and then when I ask if he will wear it he will say " no" and he always has a very specific reason for not wanting to wear it.
Life is so much easier now he speaks! He has great taste, he likes microfibre and silk, he likes colours that he looks great in ( although I have yet to see any colour he doesn't look great in)He takes great care of his clothes and great pride in how he looks, as does Elijah ( although his taste is not quite up to par, ) Seth? HE oculd acre less, if it has something to do with basketball he likes it, he will wear black and red Nike pants with a green basketball vest and a blue and yellow NBA jacket, oh and throw on a bright green baseball cap to finish it off, I say he doesn't care but once he is dressed he then cares, because he is NOT about to waste anymore time getting changed, this is it, he's wearing it, life to live and all that and does anyone have anything to say about that?

Oh, I could tell you more about Boston, the trip that is a mere 5 weeks away now. I was excited from the beginning about this trip but as each day passes I get more and more anxious for the time to come. There have been almost daily chats between the 'trippers' Yahoo is my friend, because of these online gaggle sessions I know these glorious women so much better, with webcams thrown into the mix I feel that there is little left to discover, I could not love these women more, I have seen and heard them, laughed with them, seen their delicious children, heard those little voices, been into homes and invited them into mine and feel as though I belong.
Every woman should have friends like these, I have felt my spirits left over the past few weeks because so much laughter, so many evenings of cameraderie and discovering who is who, some upfront and extrovert, others happy to be in the background soaking in the atmosphere, some in fact all, gentle and compassionate. Some so quick that you are left reeling by how fast that wit is there, in your face and making you guffaw and splutter. All generous to a fault and longing to share, in person the things that will bring to Boston.
There will be a feast of sickening proportions on the friday,we may have to find a shelter and donate because everyone is bringing their favourite treats. 12 women all bringing treats knowing there will be 12 women? There will be much.

The list could go on and on but I will end it here purely because tomorrow, I may have nothing to say and so shall carry on where I left off as if that is exactly what I planned on doing anyway.
I like laughing, can there ever be enough of it? Not in my book and I am pretty certain that so much of it in my life lately is making me well, after a long time of being poorly. Great medicine and so easy to swallow.
* Oh and my sister called to tell me thi story, because we are a whole family of wheezing laughers.
She took her THREE dogs for a walk in a lovely doggy walking park, riverside country place. A responsible dog owner she picks up the poop ( thankyou Julie for that, I may never have a dog because I cannot even acknowledge they poop, never mind walk behind them, picking it up and swinging the bag until an available poo bin is found) She also has a natty new mobile phone, tiny and sleek, her way I suspect of hanging onto her youth, instead of a sports car because a) she can't afford a sports car and b) she wouldn't get 3 cocker spaniels into a sports car, or her grandchildren, so teeny phone it is then.
"hmmmm, she mused, " what to do with expensive and very tiny new phone, large roomy pocket in pants will lose it, everything falls out of pocket ...would hate to lose this phone, darn, what to do, must have 2 free hands for dog pooh picking up duties. AHA! Boots! Great idea, shall tuck phone in boot, problem solved." So she did.
Off she went, tra la la, lovely weather, pleasant walk, happy dpgs, time to leave..will call Berian let him know she is on the way home....OH NO!! Phone is GONE, KNEW would lose phone, darn baggy pants, what was she thinking?? was searching everywhere she had been, no phone, one kind fellow dog walker, helped her search under benches, behind trees, along paths, nothing, nowhere, was lost.
"Do you have a phone with you by the way?" said Julie.
"Why yes I do", said kind lady, " should I ring your phone and we will see if we hear it?!
So she did and wouldn't you know? A distant ring...HOORAH! They set off in direction of ring, heads down and ears to the ground, so NEAR..and can you believe they spent a looong time following that ring, saying things like " it IS here somewhere.. listen!" and " I think we are REALLY close!" before Julie, who is 49 but so not senile ( much) remembered she had the darn thing in her boot, I would have paid good money or given chocolate to have seen her face when she remembered and had to tell that lady who had given up her quiet time in the park to help look for that phone, that was never lost, and I might even have lost a little of my iron bladder control if I had been able to be there when she told. My family are nearly as funny as my friends and I didn't even have to choose them, how lucky can some people be?? *

So, I have decided.

Many things, as my head clears and the fog lifts, as I begin to remember what living means, rather than getting up, breathing and going back to bed.
I am beginning to think that I have choices, I can't choose whether I am depressed or not, that is beyond me and as old as I am I see that when it slams, it slams. What I do have control of is what I do with all the time when I am not in the very depths but am ticking along. I am afraid, of so many things, most things, ridiculous things. For the past 5 years I have allowed that fear to suffocate me. When I lived in America, I was afraid most of the time, in a constant state of worry but I did things, I carried on, I worked through it, I managed. When I came home, now I look back it was like walking back into your house after the worst day at school. When the bullies had had a day filled with making your life sheer hell and then it's 4 o'clock and you walk in the door, throw down your back pack ( or briefcase in my siatuation, being at grammar school and all) and your insides thump in relief that you did it, got through another day, all is well.
Coming back to England was like that, thankyou Lord for getting me home. Thump.
Then 5 months waiting for H to get his immigration passed OK and there he was, here he is. Thump.
Now I am here, in this house that wraps itself around me, even with it's grey trim ( who paints their trim grey? WHO?) and it's hokey old lady carpets that always look pretty good and I ( because I am splendid and quite prone to uneccessary cleaning, ha ha!) decide that I will vacuum anyway because that is a good home makery thing to do. One of these days, if I can work out how to do it, I will tape the noise when I vacuum, even though it doesn't need it.
It is fantastic, all that gravelly crunchy sound, all the cracks and crackles as the unseen on this carpet crap gets sucked up. With 3 little boys, these ugly carpets are the absolute genius of home and garden ( that is one and the same, inside because little boys never take off their shoes, let's just walk it right on in people!)
In this home that is always warm and welcoming to me, I had a marvellous, but frightening slump, a period of almost comatose sleeping, that actually still could be possible I think. I still go to bed very late but when I do go to bed, I am totally unaware of anything, all night. I woke up today at 9.30, yeehaw.
Now I am beginning to wake up, I have decided that while this great period lasts I am going to push myself to the limits. Whether I am afraid or not, I am going to do things.
My dad was afriad of so many things, he missed so many great chances because of those 'what if's' and 'yeah well's. I am 45, I can't waste anymore life hiding from everything that worries me.
Because I do not do things by half, I am going to New York.
Yes. New York, New York, so good they named it twice.
I am going to fly to New York and spend a few days with some women I have never met in person. I know them well and we all have many things in common and when I have battled the crippling fear of flying, when I am there, we will have such fun that I will remember it in my dotage, every detail. I know I will stand and look up at all those big buildings and then point at the yellow cabs! LOOK YELLOW CABS, I've seen those on telly!
I asked Seth if New York has a basketball team ( Nicks, *sigh* of course, he did stop himself adding 'idiot' or 'duh' but I heard it in his mind, I think he wonders on a daily basis how I made it this far with such limited knowledge on such important matters.) he would like a Nicks kit, Isaac just wants stuff and Elijah, sparkles and pretty things. Of course.
16 weeks today until I go, long enough to save and prepare. I want to lose weight and I think that will happen anyway. I have noticed through the years that when I am very low, my body siezes up, every thing comes to a grinding halt. I get fatter, faster. When I come out of it, the added weight comes off, because I don't need to graze all day, I don't want to eat until I feel sick, I eat breakfast and about 2pm will realise I haven't eaten since. I can feel everything inside me waking up, I think my metabolism hibernates in winter, like a bear I force myself to eat and eat and build reserves...then along comes spring and off we go, happy time again!
I have discovered ( not by accident I have been experimenting) that white bread makes my skin welt up and itch with a fierceness that scares me, even one slice will make me develop weals and bumps, that really helps, I cannot eat white bread anymore, I love wholemeal but it doesn't at all have the ability to call my name, I can eat 2 slices of a great granary loaf and am done, finished, white bread screams at me to KEEP EATING and MORE !
I think I am going to try cutting out white rice ( easy peasy, that stuff is just blah to me) and pasta ( not so easy, I love that stuff) I bought some vitamins that are specifically for the immune system, I am going to try everything to get my poor body feeling better and working better.
Wish me luck, the older I get the harder it all is.
I shall be helped in my quest by the thought that in July, in New York ( did I mention that I am going to NEW YORK?!?) there will be many cameras and many pictures will be taken and it is bad enough that I just cannot smile or look natural, without looking tripply chinned and idiotic, be gone you jowelly, chinny, fat face. 16 weeks, that should be long enough to lose that fat bit under my chin, trouble is I am pretty sure that the fat is stopping the wrinkles, cakes are very helpful in the battle against wrinkles, see a wrinkle, eat a few cakes... GONE!
I am a little afraid of what might happen if I lose weight, could it be that by July, I have lost weight but will need to buy sunbstantial under garments of the very tight and restrictive kind, shall I have to pour my wobbly excess skin into knickers that start at my ankles and end under my eyebrows? That could be hot in the summer time NY style. Perhaps I shall be able to wear nice cotton trousers and just tuck the loose skin into a pair of socks. All these possibilites.
These are all marvellous things to be thinking of, so much nicer than the stuff that has been gnawing away at my brain for the past several months.
I am not desperate to lose weight because I think anyone coming to the meet up will think badly of me for being fat, that shows how confidant I am that these women are real friends, I know that I won't notice how anyone looks, apart from whether they look happy or not. I don't care who is thin, fat, well dressed, wearing sweats. I know they don't give it a thought either. I want to lose wieght because I want to get every single joyous moment out of the trip and if I am fat and hot and uncomfortable, I will be cross with myself for not doing everything I can to make the most of this opportunity.
I think time will fly, in the next few weeks we have our London trip and then the long awaited for, might be called Joshua grandbaby will arrive.....so much to look forward to right now. Life is very good and the best thing is that I can SEE it is good.
I can see H again. For all this long time I have been so shut inside my own miserable self that H has been unseen really, just here, being H and being taken for granted ( and enjoying every moment of being left alone and not spoken to much!) I can see him again and he just is glorious. He was so sent to me, I would never have looked at him or thought of him on my own.....he is nothing at all like anyone I have ever been out with or loved before.
He has the quietest most delicious sense of humour, he is one of those people who sit and let the world happen, he takes it all in and remembers it all, when you least expect it, he will say something, in his quiet, undemanding voice and a few seconds later, it will sink in what he said and it never fails to make me just choke with laughter.
He is painfully shy and just lately I catch him, though can't let him know....being just so wonderful with the boys, I have seen him dance and heard him sing ( although he really can't sing at all well!) If he knew, for second that I was witness to these moments of sheer bliss, he would stop doing it.
Isaac, my music loving boy, has leapt another hurdle.
I have never, properly, heard him sing. He loves listening to music, he moves with music, he mimes to music and apart from one time when I heard him whispering some songs for a school assembly, while he lay in bed, I haven't heard him ever sing. Yesterday he was singing...really singing, Cotton Eyed Joe of all things, using H's iPod he was watching it over and over again on You Tube......I asked him to sing it to me and he did....looked right at me and sang it, so sweetly. Pushing my luck, I asked if I could video him singing, he said YES! Right away I filmed him and to my dismay I saw that I had held the camera sideways! You just know that he refused a second try. I have him 'singing', on tape. He even looks at me while he is singing, the taped version is nowhere near as confident as the time he sang for me without the camera but it is so sweet and priceless to me.



It's almost impossible to believe that he couldn't speak just 2 years ago, then he would/could only speak to us, now he can talk pretty much at school, he still has trouble talking outside if anyone not in the immediate family is present.
He is beginning to be more able to enjoy things more, he joins in a little more at school but is still obviously happier in solitary pursuits.
Beautiful boy.

So, for my thousandth ( is that a word?) post, some GOOD news.

Although my narcissistic self is loathe to detract from the the comments being left after post 999, HOORAH people love me, bring it on etc etc. Don't stop, I like it.
I am able to tell you good folks, who have listened so patiently to my enever ending whining and whittering about landlady from stupidsville, we have an end in sight.
An acceptable end at that.
I have been fair eaten away with the injustice and rage of the whole situation, how DARE she keep our money? LOOK! LOOK at the HOUSE I CLEANED on the internet priced at £249.950, with pictures of all the rooms I CLEANED. Mutter mutter, itch scratch, mutter, complain, ad nauseum.
Today, I had a marvellous idea, why not look and see if she is a member of an ombudsmen estate agents thingamijiglet. Why, yes SHE IS! This is great news, aha! Gotcha lady and all that.
I found the address of the company she is with, I wrote them an email because she must pay, she must be made an example of, how dare she play with ME?
So I wrote an email and before I hit 'send' the real me came back, the one that my mum and dad raised, that cleaned that house because I knew I should, because it was the right thing to do.
The real me shows up at all the most inopportune moments, she ruins many a good chance to retaliate, she didn't used to, when we were both younger she egged me on, told me what to say, gave me the confidence to hit out, say what I thought, show the buggers who was boss.
Age and experience has taught the real me to be a nice lady, to step back and work it out. So, the real me knew that she had to give landlady one more chance. Just one.
So, I called the office that she runs, she doesn't answer calls, she has a manager that does that so I thought I would call him and just say that I had the address for the ombudsmen and that I was about to write a complaint and let them deal with it all.
" Hello, terrible estate agency here, stupid landlady speaking, how may I help you?"
Oh my goodness, wobbly bowels but marvellously steady voice replied
" Why landlady! Helen Pissedoff here"
" Oh, er, Oh, Hello Helen, what can I do for you?"
"Well, Landlady, what are we going to do about this money situation?"
Long chat, very enlightening chat where I felt better, she felt better and the air was cleared, she did try to say
" Helen, that house really wasn't too bad you know, was it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"The house, it really wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Yes, it was. You know it was, there was poop all up the walls, every carpet was covered in dry vomit, yes, B, the house was very bad and you know what else? You know I take pictures don't you, you have SEEN me take pictures remember? The house was bad when we took it over, tell me B, how was it when we left?"
"You left it beautiful, you really did. What do you want to do about the money?"
"Well H and i have spoken and decided that we are willing to split the difference, you owe us £1.010 you send us £500, we'll take it"
"But......"
"but nothing, you understand that if I take this through the courts you will be ordered to pay me 3 times that deposit don't you?"
"Yes, but you left the tenancy early"
"We left TWO tenancies early, didn't we? We left the barn FOUR months early, we left the last house ONE month early, so we should pay you ...why?"
" I don't have any money"
" I understand that things are tough for you, I do, it must be awful but we gave you that money, you were supposed to invest it, not spend it, that money is ours and we simply cannot afford to walk away from it. This offer is a good one, pay us £250 this month, £250 next, whatever, just pay us £500"
" I don't have any money, I am losing everything and I do not even have £250"
"well, what can you do about that? "
She said she can probably get us some right now, then she will write and tell us what she will do about the rest.
I feel that a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, it isn't even the money, it's the fairness. The levelling of justice or whatever the saying is. She admitted that the money is ours, that it isn't hers, she told me that we had left the house in a great state and she admitted that we had always been impeccably behaved as tenants. That's what mattered. I have been consumed with the injustice of it and was enraged that we had worked so hard and done what was right, while she appeared to be ignoring us and tearting us so poorly.
She told me how she wakes up every day and wonders how she will get through the day, that she knew she should write to me but couldn't think what to say or how to tell me that she doesn't have any money.
I imagine that we will get some money, somehow that is secondary now to the fact that she acknowledged that we were good tenants and that she had treated us badly.
I think I might itch less tonight. We can but hope.
I took the boys to see 'The waterhorse' today, glorious. As the movie began we saw some wonderful scenery and I turned to Isaac and said in my best ( which is terrible) Scottish accent
" That there's in scoretland"
He turned and said right back ( in the most splendid scottish accent, how does he know how to do that??) " Aye, Ah noooooo"
I was flabberghasted, I laughed out loud and said " Isaac! That was a JOKE!" We have repeated the same sentences over and over again and have laughed just as hard every time! Isaac told a joke and got it very, very right. What a grand day that was.

You'll get your reward on heaven, they say...

And sometimes you don't have to wait that long.
I have been asked to teach the babies at church, they would be very cross if they heard me to refer to them as babies because they are BIG boys, they are three, Noah, Matthew, Jared and Nathan. They don't wear pull ups and dey dot bid beds wizz Thomas bed and Cars quilt and they are SO big boys. But they are babies.
Christ said that he loved the children best and admonished us to be as little children. Every time I work with these little people I see why that is.
Todays lesson was about how Heavenly Father and Jesus love us. I took in with me a big canvas bag filled with toy animals, toy jelly fish, real fruit, a mirror.
We took things out of the bag
" A COW!"
"Doggie!"
"I want nat shart!" ( killer whale) one exciting toy after the other,we were having such fun and I got carried away and pulled out a bear, with growling face and sharp teeth....ROAR!
Noah may well have built the ark but that bear made him lose it completely. BAD mister Helen. ( which is who I am apparantly) Oh dear, it took poor Noah a very long time to recover and the bag no longer held any joys or excitement, just deep fear and flinching.
I showed them the mirror and said that if they looked in there, they would see someone that Heavenly Father loves very much, who could that be?
"ME!"
They had no inhibitions, not a trace of doubt, no embarrassment, just an absolute belief that they are loveable and perfect.
We really should be more like them.
Last week was my first week teaching the littlest ones, they cried and hung their heads and this is all so new to them, used to being in nursery where they play and have snacks, big boys now they sit with us and sing, and they have a lesson that is 40 minutes long ( that is a REALLY long time for 3 year olds, and an even longer time for a teacher if she isn't fully prepared, you cannot wing it with babies, they can cause chaos in a 3 minute lull!)
It took me a little while to settle them and by the end of the morning they were all happy.
Today, 2 were away and 2 came into church.....both these little boys saw me and I heard " Air she IS! Mister ELLUN!" and such excitement and joy, so happy to see me and no matter how bad the morning had been ( and oh my, this morning was a BAD one) life suddenly became brighter, if we could all just be so excited about learning.
These little boys remember what we did last week and they long to carry on, they jump and squeal when they know the answer to a question. When our lesson was over we went to the main meeting and as I settled my boys I heard again "HEY! Mister ELLUN!" Sweet Matthew who is so earnest and eager and careful to be right.......I adore these little boys.
I didn't adore Isaac today, I mean this week, actually the past month. I ran out of compassion for the troubles he may have had with moving, I am weary of fighting him on every damn thing. He has really pushed every limit lately and says no to everything, he stands rock still and refuses to get dressed, undressed, eat his dinner, pick up his toys, listen.......he does this smirk and just says NO.
Last night bathtime came and went and he missed his bath, this morning I ran a bath and asked him to get ready and jump in.
NO. He was determined not to do it, I tried everything from reasoning to yelling and he just ran away, stood still, ran away again, screamed NO NO NO NO NO. I asked H to come and help, because I am hormonal and my head is liable to explode or just spin in an exocist type frenzy.
No H. Now, H is the epitome of helpful, from monday to saturday he is there, hands on, doing it, organising it, cleaning it, working with the boys, for some unexplained reason on sundays he is on a whole different planet.
Occassionally I am organised enough to have church clothes ironed and ready on saturday night. Usually I am not, I am always organised enough to have he clothes washed and dried and ready for ironing but inevitably sunday morning comes along and there are 4 white shirts to iron, trousers to press, whatever I am going to wear. Snacks to prepare, lessons to pack up. Kids to feed.
H who gets up at 5am every day if not earlier, sleeps in on sundays, he then wakes up in time to shower and eat and dress himself.
Every sunday my irritation at this out of the ordinary behaviour increases. I never say anything because he is so great the other 6 days, I never have to worry about anything, if I have to go it I go ut, he does everything here, he walks the boys to and from school, he gets up with them every day and allows me to sleep whenever I need to. Sundays are the exception and I really can't understand why it irks me SO much.
I stand and iron the white shirts and without fail I am reminded of the day when, about a week after we were married, having ironed a whole stack of work shirts for H, he came over to me and asked if he might show me how to do them properly.
Yes, he really DID that and he is still here, without an iron shaped inprint in his forehead, so stunned and appalled was I that he would dare to suggest such a thing.
Because I allowed that occassion to pass without voicing my dissaproval, it comes back to me every sunday morning while I stand and iron the damn shirts that I hate bloody well doing and how DARE he show me how to iron a shirt!! If I want to iron the sides first and the collar last I will and lets see him try and make me do otherwise, except, I do it the 'right way' every week....collar and shoulders first, sleeves ( don't forget the cuffs need doing extra well to make them sharp) back next and then the fronts. Every week I hear his instructions and bloody well follow them, which makes me mad at him and even madder at me....you think he even remembers daring to 'teach' me how to iron a shirt??
So, hormonally challenged and annoyed that he is calmly going about his restful sunday morning routine, having been through the sunday morning hell of shirt ironing, I am now faced with Isaac who is making my time to get myself ready shorter and shorter, I can see I am going to have to go unshowered, no make up on and flustered if he doesn't get in that lovely bath and get CLEAN.
I ran out of patience, ideas and sanity and I picked up my fastidious and clothing obsessed 6 year old and I put him in the bath IN HIS PYJAMAS and his SOCKS and OH MY HELL THE WORLD CAME TO AN END!
H came then, of course, and he rescued Isaac, just as he had come down from the ceiling, just as I had helped him take OFF the WET PYJAMAS and OH MY SOCKS ARE WET I HATE WET SOCKS I DON'T WANT MY SOCKS WET ( well should have taken the damn things off 20 minutes ago and got into the bath the 1st, 2nd even the 7th time you were told!) He was just about to actually get IN the bath and daddy rescued him, that was the end. I crumpled in a weeping heap of frustration for about 3 seconds and then I finished off Isaac's tantrum. Rather splendidly thankyou.
Eventually, when I was bathed ( can't waste lovely, warm, bubbly water) and dressed and miraculously all 3 boys and H were dressed too, without my having to help or answer the 13 'where are my sunday shoes' questions (hurriedly shhhhhhed by H,) shoes were found without my help ( imagine!) I sat the boys down and heard myself telling of how when I was little, if my mum or dad asked or told me to do something, I did it. There were consequences to being disobedient and we learned very quickly that doing as we were told was very much the best way to go.
Seth listens well to discussions like these, I can see his head taking it all in and more often then not he really does change how he does things. Elijah spends a lot of time saying things like " I am a dood boy aren't I mummy? I dot inna barf didn't I mummy? I not a naughty boy am I mummy" Isaac, is a closed book. He fidgets and smirks, he climbs and plays and we have to wait and see if he took any notice or not.
He went to bed tonight without a battle (which hasn't happened since before we moved) he has always loved going to sleep but this move has thrown him for a loop, it's been tough.
Last night he fought so hard that eventually I told him he had to stay down and I wouldn't ALLOW him to go to sleep, he sat outside the front room, in the hallway yelling for a story ( which he missed because he wouldn't go upstairs at storytime, physically carrying him will not work, it is a waste of time and energy, he is set in a routine he has to do certain things or he is so distressed we are in for hours of misery)
we had to keep explaining that he had the chance and blew it, that he could either go to bed or sit out there on his own. ( praying for the patience to see this through and not just put him out on the doortep in a cancer reseacrh bag and let them take him away to sell for research money)
After 2 hours ( at 10pm) he walked into the front room, asked nicely for the flashlight ( he takes a lantern AND a flashlight, hot water bottle and a drink) and said he was ready for bed. Sometimes we are reminded that Isaac has autism when it might be easy to forget.
Mostly I get Isaac, I know how his mind works and we tick along beautifully together, he is my sweet boy and I love to have him come with me when I go out. Other times I have the worst time with keeping my temper in check, 2 hours is a long time to have to keep your cool and watch him go through this process. Today was not a good one to begin with, thank Heaven for those little people that made me feel as though I did something right.
There's a lady at church who has lost a huge amount of weight, she looks great and when I saw her the other day we had such a lovely chat about what she did and how she is still doing it.
She told me that she had a load of clothes that I was welcome to and I thanked her because I am so sick of my same old same old boring raggedy Annie look. ( unkempt even)
She brought them to church today and they really are lovely clothes, she works and so they are clothes that I can wear every day as well as out if I actually ever go anywhere.
I sorted through them when I got home and was so thrilled with them but gah.......it's not much fun being the recipient of someone else's FAT clothes.
The acid reflux, near death experience seems to have scared the greed out of me for a while, I have embraced my slimfast and salad diet with open arms and closed mouth. I am enjoying the feeling of not eating for England and wouldn't it be great if I don't get to wear Sally's lovely and much appreciated Fat clothes for long?
The weather has cheered up, sunshine always lifts my spirits, I am looking forward to spring and all that holds. Mel is feeling better and will hopefully be home from the hospital tomorrow. No ultrsound so baby is still a mystery to us, we're getting used to the idea now ( but I bet no-one would say no to the chance of knowing!) Such a worry this sickness has been, such a precious baby, we are so relieved that s/he is still where s/he needs to be.
Very good, ready we are for the new week, wonder what it holds.

We are just so upmarket.

Remember when I wrote this?

"For some reason known only to H, a swiss horn thing arrived in our bathroom, it is hung on a hook next to the toilet. ( and if I wasn't all together too idle I would take a picture) When Isaac, who is a bit worried that he will never wipe his own bottom well enough, has finished his business, we hear 3 long blasts on the horn and H goes running to do the honours. It is absolutely this type of thing that makes this house a great one to live in. Happy day indeed when we heard the horn when Isaac was at school..WHAT? Elijah, on the throne, waiting for a wipe. Hoorah."

We have come up in the world. Isaac still insists on being checked, he is always clean but the very idea that he might not be, is just more than he can tolerate.
I probably should warn you before I go any further, there is a chance that you might be overwhelmed by feelings of envy. I can't help that, some of us have, some of us can only wish to have.
When we left the old house ( that is officially nothing to do with us, keys have been mailed and landlady informed) we took with us everything that was unscrewable, that we had paid for, I might be striving to be a better person but pettiness overtakes me at times and this was one of those times ( also, thrifty, look after the pennies, the pounds will take care of themselves etc. etc.) We might actually need that rather top of the range padlock thing we put on the flat door, we never know when that doorbell might come in handy. We may not need it right now but one day, maybe even one day soon, we might rue having left such treasures behind.

I was upstairs emptying box number 353 into the airing cupboard, when I heard the doorbell, hmmmmm, who could it be? 'Tis late, sort of. Funny thing, that doesn't sound like our new doorbell, but it is definitely ringing, quite persistantly and urgently.

Yes, H and his glorious eccentricities strike again, with the unexplained loss of the swiss horn, we have been in a quandry reference the summoning of bottom wiper/ checker. There have been a few occassions when Isaac has been disgruntled that no-one checked his arse for him, bad times I tell you.
Yelling doesn't work, we are fabulously good at ignoring yelling, unless it turns into the almost a pain filled scream yell, which will have us responding with compassion and speed "WHAT? What NOW? Who did it? Stop right now!" something like that.
Imagine my husband's delight to find himself with the answer to our dilemma.
He has set up our rather natty wireless doorbell, IN THE TOILET!
When Isaac needs assistance, he merely has to ring the doorbell, the ringer part is plugged in downstairs, in the front room ..DING DONG! Marvellous.

You might well be able to keep up with the Joneses but let's face it....... we're just that bit further out of reach.

Just as it seemed I had it in the bag!

Bad morning, dreadful morning even.
Isaac is having a hard time about the move, he can't go to sleep, can't wake up, can't stop telling me what he likes about this house. ( count to 10, 10 times, an hour) I understand, I really do, it's tough on all of us and for him, this is just horrendous.
I forget sometimes that he thinks very literally, I forget a lot of things lately. On friday, after meltdown 647, he said " I don't feel well, can I stay home from school tomorrow?"
" Why yes," I said " In fact, you can stay home for TWO days" ( ha ha, clever me!)
" Two days? I can stay home for two days? "
I convinced him I meant it and he was happy, even when he realised that it was friday and what a hoot! No school anyway.
Until this morning, because I lied, I said he could stay home for two days, I didn't say he could stay away from school for 2 days, I said he could stay home, and yesterday he went to church.
Oh. Bugger.
He might only weigh 46 lbs, he may only be 6, he might only come up to my chest but this kid is stubborn. He means it when he sticks to something that he is promised.
He wouldn't get dressed ( What do you MEAN he wouldn't ?? He's SIX ...MAKE HIM!) he is incredibly strong and he stood, arms gripped so tightly by his sides, head seized in one position, legs locked at the knee. He wouldn't eat, he needs food, if he is hungry he is awful, as bad as his daddy. He wouldn't drink. Just stood, staring and saying over and over and over " you said two days, you said I could stay home two days, I went to church, that is not staying home I am staying home two days, today is the two days"
( count, woman count, your head won't really explode, count..1.2.3.4.5.5. what comes after 5? dear Lord,please help me not throw him out the window!!! )
Eventually and only just in time but actually a bit late because there are roadworks and we are going to be late and if we get there and the gates are already open the SKY WILL FALL DOWN BECAUSE THE GATE IS OPEN AND WE HAVE TO GET THERE BEFORE THE GATE OPENS! Open the car door, ack Isaac's door won't open, seat belt is caught in door, won't open and won't shut and " ISAAC, kick the door from the inside! KICK it, as hard as you are mad, give it hell boy, just kick it open!"
"no"
Seth kicked it, I wish I could have kicked it, preferably with someones head in between but Seth did it, hoorah, is open, get in QUICK!
Nothing. Dead car. Not even a Click. not even a click.
Trying to be like Jesus or not, that deserved a swear and it got one, bloody arsehole piece of crap, so much for bargain freecycle my arse.....damn thing.
Isaac is HAPPY! This is fun! This means the BUS.....what could possibly be miserable about a bus ride on monday morning? Who wants to stay at home when you can go to school on a BUS?
£72. Battery. Not the alternator, thankfully, the battery has been a bit pathetic from day one and when lovely man from the RAC arrived ( yeay for £18 a month for breakdown coverage that includes at home start, clever me) he took great care to show me the numbers, 1.2 V after he charged it...LOOK when you open the door it goes down! Tut, look what happens when you turn the radio on..but never fear the alternator is charging it so that's good, just replace the battery, they'll fit it at Halfords for you lovey, you got one just down the road there, they'll see you alright"
Went to Halfords. Left car running ( am quite knowledgeable about these things, old crapheap car taught me stuff) ran in and enquired about battery and would they fit it? Young man came out with me and checked the battery, " no problem, you can turn it off now, we'll fit one of those no problem" You know what's coming don't you? Yes, he COULD fit one, no problem, IF THEY HAD ONE, which they didn't.
Kwik Fit did, and they fitted it relatively Kwikly too. £72.
Why this week? WHY THIS WEEK? Next week, I would have had the money, next week we wouldn't need the car. This week I thought I just about had the £1470.50 we have to hand over to the agency for the new house.
Now we don't. Despite eating the most revolting concoctions from the freezer, despite freezing and turning off the heating every chance we get to save on gas, despite....oh all of it. Still need a bit more. If you're tired of hearing about it, I am truly tired of thinking about it.
The tenancy agreement arrived this morning, which made me happy because it really means that we have the house, our names all officially typed on it and all. Also typed is that figure £1470.50. SO much money, worth it ( apart from the darned fees, £70.50 for the tenancy agreement, tell me how those 5 pages are worth £70.50. £141 for the search fees. What did they search? I gave them copies of all our income, they didn't get a reference from money keeping landlady who does no repairs......ptttttttttth) I shan't mind a jot NEXT week when we are in the house and can breathe a sigh of relief, this week though, it's all a bit much for me.
More boxes packed though, freezer is all cleared and kitchen is 1/3 done.

When I collected Isaac from school, I saw he had a sticker and commented on how he must have been a bit nicer at school than he had been at home in order to earn a sticker, he got it because he got 100 out of 100 in his RM math today. Clever boy! He was delightful this evening, he is having trouble going to bed and he needs his sleep as much as he needs to eat at the right times. He's having a really rough time of it lately. I hope I can be more understanding tomorrow.
Sometimes it's just hard to remember how hard this is for him.

Farewell my trusted friend.

Amazing how we can become all wistful and winsome about something when you don't need it anymore, isn't it?


Our dear old car ( previously known as the crap heap) left today, on the back of a trailer, where she is going to be fixed up and sold on. I will admit to feeling a bit of a lump in my throat as I watched it being driven across the road to the trailer.



We waited until it was loaded onto the trailer and then I couldn't watch anymore.

( look at dear old boy in track pants.....salt of the earth, same man who did all the work and brought us shiny black car bought crappy old car, hoorah! he wasn't the man that freecycled it though)

That old car has served us well ( and cost us a fortune!) it has moved house for us FOUR times, carried sofas and fridge/ freezers, people and more people, it has dumped garden waste, carried gravel and somehow managed to get us from A to B and back again with remarkable reliability.
It will be missed by many because we have been the picker uppers in the family. We have collected bed and carpets and all manner of bulky and useful things for many people.
I am still in awe that we got the new freda freecycle car right before the old one died it's timely death. I put £15 petrol in the new one and having done 35 miles the gauge seems to hardly have moved, with the old one we'd be on empty by now. Glorious.
Isaac is in full door mode, poor little git, he is almost exhausted by this compulsion to open and close doors, he was just beginning to feel more relaxed with mum's car and now has to start all over again, as if that wasn't bad enough, he has to contend with the radio ( turn it on, turn it up, turn it off, turn it back on, open the door, close it, climb through, oooooh electric window must open it, shut it, open it, turn the radio UP please, check that door is locked, open, shut, ARGH!!!!!!!) I was close to nervous breakdown and was biting my tongue, til his little voice said " I actually can't help having to open the doors but I am nearly used to them" It was then I realised that he truly cannot help having to do it. I remember when we first moved into the lovely town house he was a door slammer, and when we went to stay in the caravan he hardly had time for fun at ALL with all those new doors to open and shut.
So, we have a lovely big driveway with just the one mid sized car. Happy me.
Just to make sure we're not TOO sad about the old car going, the new one smells of wet dogs. Wouldn't you know it. It needs a good airing and scrub through, we cleaned it and shined it but it has been sitting for months with nobody loving it and opening the windows ( ISAAC! We NEED you!)
We shall spoil it when we get home, it will sit outside Uncle Barry's house, while we are home, getting a complex and asking itself WHY? Why does everyone leave me? Why do I get dumped outside and ignored, where is that little boy that so promisingly opened and shut my doors and windows and clapped his hands with glee at my radio? Where is that lady that told everyone how shiny I am? What did I do wrong?
And then we will come home and it will be so happy it will run like a dream and keep itself shiny, even make itself smell fresh and clean and ne'er a whiff of wet dog shall ever be detected.
The End.