And no, I did not take pictures.

It has been a long weekend. A very, very long weekend, filled with rain and little boys who say things like " but I really need to JUMP. Can I please jump, high as I can? "
We have abandoned the rules about time on the laptop, we have allowed games and endless TV, anything just ANYTHING to keep them amused because the rain...oh the rain, the wind and more rain.
Sidenote...the wind, has not only been the weather type wind, these boys, dear heaven...must be the limitless snacks because how can such small people smell so horribly, horribly bad?
Anyway, at last, dinner time.....they chose Simpsons pasta shapes, fun, that'll keep them happy for at least 12 minutes and then it'll be only 3 hours until bedtime, this is GREAT!
Cooked and served, on the table with the jar of parmesan cheese, because pasta and grandpa cheese ( so called because grandpa sends it, it comes on a plane and is unavailable here) well food for the gods.
Ahhh, peace, 2 adults in the quiet front room with 3 little boys eating their favourite food.
"Mum! Eli is playing with the grandpa cheese"
( oh for pete's sake leave me alone for 3 minutes, shall ignore tattle tales and enjoy peace)
"MUM! You should SEE IT!"
Huff. Hrumph. mutter.
OH MY GOOD GRIEF!
There was not a surface uncovered by parmesan cheese. every picture, shelf, book, window sill, every chair, ornament covered, he must have filled his sweaty little fists with handfuls of it and FLUNG it asunder.
I picked up pictures, cleaned them, wiped the shelf, put back the picture and MORE CHEESE it was inside the picture frames.
I sent them up to their rooms because, well I was more than cross, so cross I couldn't even lose my temper and that's when I know I have to be careful.
I told them that when they were undressed, sitting in their beds I would listen to who did what. I knew that someone had warned us what the gitlet was doing and I knew I had to be fair but right then I really just wanted to throw their cheese covered bodies out of the window ( which is ground level and leads to the basketball hoop, so sending them to bed hurt much more as it happens.
I cleaned as well as I could but suspect we will be finding parmesan cheese in cervices for many a long day.
I made Seth vacuum and he did a remarkably good job, me thinks that can be his job for a while.
I spoke to Isaac and it was him that warned us of the wrong doings of his youngest brother. I spoke to the sinner himself and he said that there was just too much grandpa cheese in his bowl and he had to 'frow it out a bit' he was very unhappy upstairs on his own for a while, not sure that he is terribly sorry though.
" Elijah, why did you do that with the grandpa cheese?"
" Um, toz there was duss too much in my bowl"
"but why did you throw it all over the room like that...all over the room, everywhere?"
"Um, duss toz I had to det it out of my bowl, duss way too much in there"
They are in bed, I am rejoicing and waching a lovely film on TV about Jesus. I think that almost makes up for being trapped inside for 48 hours with these grotballs.

Oh, I had a lovely moment of seeing that H is, after all human. This is a great thing. Sometimes it is so hard to live with someone who appears to have it all so under control.
We have been squirreling away some easter things, I do baskets for Sophie ( and this year, Mel) H does the boys. I bought some boxes of Celebrations, delicious. One for Soph, one for Mel. Yesterday I bought a few more little bits and when I went to put them with the rest of the chocolate *GASP* what in the world?? BOTH boxes open, one totally empty the other one half empty. Who could DO this? Not H, he hates damn chocolate, tis for weak people and of no nutritional value. Isaac and Eli wouldn't be able to reach, Seth maybe could but he would much rather have crisps or flapjacks ( ha! I wanted a flapjack yesterday and asked Seth to go and get me a cat flap! Am quite mad.) Must have been Sophie when she was here colouring her hair.....shall be a detective and trace the wrappers. Hmmm some in our bin, some in the bathroom, yes must be Sophie.
When H came home from town I said " H, I know this is a ridiculous question, am almost embarrassed to put it to you but you didn't eat any of those chocolates from on top of the wardrobe did you?"
"Hmmm, well you see, perhaps...errr, can you believe this weather?"
The boys were jubilant
"DAD! you ate the CHOCOLATE ..what chocolate, where is there chocolate? Can we have some chocolate?"
How splendid, he is human and likes damn chocolate and I like him, the world is a beautiful place, covered in parmesan cheese and no chocolate.

The devil made me do it!

*Gasp* what came over me? WHAT?
Things are moving waaaaaaay too fast! Go to see mum, come home 'FOR SALE' sign in my garden. Ack! H takes boys out, must clean, MUST clean, school breaks mean crunchy carpets and yoghurt and cheerios stuck to everything, clean, must clean......as I was vacuuming the hallway, I saw a dark shadow by the door.... KNOCK KNOCK, it was Ian from the agency that are SELLING MY HOME.
"Hello. I've come to take measurements"
"Oh, hmmmm, didn't know, come in, look at the mess or not by LOOK am cleaning, I do that sometimes, not enough though"......rattle chatter waffle, anything to stop myself puking or weeping or BEGGING him not to sell my home.
So, Ian who has 3 little boys and understands mess and knows all about yoghurt, walked around my home taking measurements and talking into his dictaphone thingumy.
He left his briefcase on my front room floor, open. I was still cleaning, sweeping and polishing, oh HORRORS, when I swept the grooves of the coffee table to get all those crunchy bits of 'start' cereal and cookies and what the hell IS that???? out.....I think, somehow, not sure how...I wonder, the crumbs may have gone in his briefcase, perhaps, probably, definitely. Also as he was talking into his little recorder and saying " Front room , delightful sash windows....." ( Me ..that are painted shut inside and out")
" Shower room, walk in shower..." ( me " that leaks into the kitchen so the ceiling is falling down")
I think the devil made me do it because it was just happening and even though he told me that they are working hard to sell to another investor I have given up on living here. A new landlord means a whole new list of changes, rent increases blah blah and anyway, this house- it's spoiled for me now, it isn't my home, it belongs to someone else who has too much power over how we live. I won't feel this is my home anymore, I am packing and getting ready for a move. It's over for me here, so new investor or not, we're going.
I am preparing for the assault on the council, the laying before them of my life's every detail. I shall pout my heart and soul out to them , and hand my family to them with faith that THEY will house us and let us stay in that home as long as we live, pay rent and don't firebomb the neighbours.
The snob in me is balking at the idea of living in a council house again, I loved my previous council houses but I hadn't been living in THIS house then, hadn't been flinging this grand address about as if I was lady of some manor. Pride comes before a fall they say. Yep.
One thing I do hope that comes from moving is that we will live near other children close to our boys. Little boys should be able to play on the street with their friends. Dan and Jordan were outside in the dirt with buddies until bath time every night in the summer, building camps and playing football. I would call them in for a bath and Jordan would howl " OHHHHHH! NO! I'll be GOOD, I'm sorry!" as if having to have a bath and go to bed was a hideous punishment. Dinner was shovelled in so that games could continue, Seth and Isaac seem happy with H's company, Seth would love to play out with the boys, not sure about Isaac... but Eli? That kid was MADE to be a street urchin, his knees attract muck like pins to a magnet. He has the perfect face for a street playing wretch. I can see him, in my minds eye, playing marbles and football, tag and hide and seek, building tents and eating sandwiches outside 'til it's dark. The neighbours will know his name as it is yelled asunder near bedtime every dusky evening. We shall hand out cookies and juice to all the kids in the street and memories shall be made. I hope.
If they play in the street here they'd get run over. They ask if they can call for Mr Shrub. who lives in our street and goes to our church...he's our age but the youngest and most lively person they know in the neighbourhood, I think a move might be good for them after all.
So, have to go and rescue them from the gate, that they keep climbing over........I shall avert my eyes so I don't see that FOR SALE sign. Wish us luck.

Subtle, yet pretty.( with bits edited and added all day)

So, naturally, the birthday plans for Sophie have changed. She hasn't quite grasped that this time, things are different. We are not able to just carry on as if nothing has happened and forget it all for next time.
That doesn't mean that the birthday must be horrible, but it will be different.
I have been looking at bedsits and one bed flats and showing her ( and Jordan) and explaining that really, you know, these things cost money and the money? YOU NEED TO PAY IT!
Ooooooooh lovely flat, handy, right by town, near work, buses, want it.......as well as new top, haircut, evening out, etc etc.
Hmmmmmmmm. What to do? How can we slam the message home that... HELLO?? Grown up!!
We can start by not letting a single thing slip past us ( exhausting)
No more rides, no more money loans, no more leaway on anything.
( exhausting and dull, so dull)
Extracting money for everything used that is not theirs, phone calls, INDIAN FOOD, phone calls, texts on my phone.
( painful and exhausting and MEAN, so MEAN!!!)
and we can make 18th birthdays beautiful and practical and subtley reminding that HELLO!!!!! 18, grown up.......look how gorgeous THIS IS!!



It will be filled with lovely, useful and yet beautiful things, for when she moves out. Towels and maybe silverwear ( from Asda because lets face it, they will probably be left with noodles stuck in the prongs for days, and that won't matter because it won't be HERE, sweet joy....we don't want to be silly here do we? Asda is Walmart with a shorter name)
The packages and cards have begun to arrive...THANKYOU! Actually, she let slip during one moment of niceness before the
" no I can't drive you anywhere" began, that she is really sad about her birthday and wants it to be happy but knows it won't be will it? It will be happy and hopefully she will love her dresser ( that really I love and want myself but am kind, so bought it for her)
I didn't like H last night, enough to sleep in the spare room until Hell, this bed is really uncomfortable and anyway he won't even notice that I didn't come to bed, registered .. and I snuck unnoticed into my lovely comfy bed at 4am.
I was so ready to sulk for at least a month and keep hating him today, I am such a lightweight, I walked into the front room at 6am and he said good morning and, I really wish I could sulk, it looks like such fun, I get so mad when good manners win through and I just talk to him and act all nice as if I don't want to hit him right across the head with that saucepan he hid, that I bought a year ago and he has hoarded because it is a really great pan and they were such a steal and we did buy one more than we need but damned if the kids will get it when they move out because this pan? with dried on supernoodles or burnt on spaghetti? Not on my watch you stupid woman.
I will hide it and make you feel like a piece of crap, because even though I know you heard me laugh and even though you agreed, at the suggestion that one of those thoughtless never do the washing up teenage things will be able to have THIS great pan, well maybe you might just give it to them anyway, and that would hurt. And even though we have a set of these pans that will last longer than us, well we might need it one day ourselves mightn't we?
I will hate that saucepan til the day I die now. One of those mother things, men don't get it and why try and explain that even though you long for these big people to leave and live elsewhere and just visit and go away again? Even though you know that this is the best thing for them and for us and for everyone? Well, you still want it to be OK and exciting and happy and if that means giving them a great saucepan, that they will burn and let rot? Well, you need to do that because it helps it not hurt and helps you not feel so damn useless.
Like you did everything wrong.
Like you realised just how much you stink at this whole parenting thing and LOOK a shiny pan, do you love me again?
Still?
It's a great pan even. Not crap or old or second hand, its shiny and I think you deserve a lovely saucepan.
Am I good mum really?
Am I?
Can you smile at me today? Or even talk to me ? Can you be in this house and not make my heart quiver and weep, just today?
If I give you this saucepan,

will you like me? Please.

Yeah, pathetic. Like that.

A very worrying thing happened this week, I spoke to the first one. He called me after he had spoken to Sophie. The first words out of his mouth were
" How are you? " Brownie point # 1
" I spoke to Sophie and just wanted you to know that I know that there is another side to this and well, I lasted 3 days before I felt like killing her, she is hard work, it's OK. She needs to move out"
Brownie point # 's 2-903
" you know, when I told Dan he had to leave I felt like puking, I followed him around for days saying " take these plates! Have this saucepan ( probably not a new one, or a grand one like ours but still) towels? Need them? take them!!!" It was SO bad but look at him, look at how he is doing, it is the best thing we ever did. It will be the same with Jordan and Sophie, just stick with it, it'll be great" Lost count at how many brownie points he got for that but I remembered a bit why I loved him so long ago.
He gets this whole thing because, although he is stupid and really stupid, he is their dad and he knows what this is like. He loves them even when he hates them too.
Nice to know someone understands, shame it was him but hey, what the heck? Grab what you can I always say.
I haven't cried like this for months and months. It's not necessarily a bad thing. Being the baddie in it all isn't fun though.
I think I can see that it isn't personal, that this is par for the course. That one day they will look back and see that the big bad mother was just doing what mothers do, helping them grow up.
Not sure what the big bad stepdad is doing. Wishing he was elsewhere I shouldn't wonder.

I just wish the husband was trying to make it easier. Fear I imagine. Fear that if he shows the remotest softness I will cave and change my stance. I know what that feels like, I liked his son as much as he likes my kids,when he lived with us, I kind of love him now, easy to see what to do when they don't have your blood running through their selfish veins and you chose to love their parent but they came as part of the deal, ack.
Also, when they are horrible? Even harder. Easy when they are cute or funny or smell nice or with the other parent or asleep or in another country.


( that's Rob, holding a baby Isaac.)



It's just that this is SO hard, even if it is right, a bit of understanding would go such a long way. Men are hopeless aren't they? Wonder why we keep loving them and not hitting them with pyrex saucepans with straining lids and stay cool handles.
They have a lot to thank cadbury's for is all I say.

P.S I found the saucepan. Next to my side of the bed.


And...because I'm not done whining yet and because I love to entertain, because Eli caused such hilarity...I am here to share more pictures, which means we didn't clean it all up ( why? they have a week off, we DID clear most of it up and FUN lets do it again, so to hell with that) and he did some more....look, can you tell how bad things are when THIS is funny??


What is really funny about this picture is that there is a kid in there....it's seth and I didn't see him til I downloaded the picture and wondered what that pile of white and green stuff was.....ha, cool, can lose whole kids in that mess, who said there isn't a silver lining?


pretty sure we will never get these toys back.


Argh, school library book on there, will have to get kitchen tongs and lean out of incredibly high window try to reach it, I might bounce if I fall, but I doubt it.
It is the very top one, it has a lock on it ( that I unlocked to take pictures) that means it just opens enough to throw toys, but not kids, out of. Apparantly, that is a great idea.
The french doors are to the teeny flat under our house, (I resisted the urge to peer through windows even though no-one is home, I am so polite, dammit)



PPS. I think I either heard voices in my head, or unspoken comments ( hand up if you were dying to tell me this!!) or just got a clue or something because, on going into that room again to get clean PJs ..... it occurred to me that it is useless waiting until these kids are 14 to start getting tough, now is the time.

So, when they got there,
the bedroom was bare
and so, now the buggers have none.

I took almost ALL the toys out. They are taped up and in other rooms. They have been told that children who can't look after toys or tidy up, find that they have little to play with. As they show they can clear up, not break, throw or abuse what we left them with, they can earn a few more toys back. We are taking a lot of toys down to the store room. They have way too many. How can they enjoy that many toys? They are begging to be tipped and thrown. I rather like the minimalist look in there. Refreshing.

As I type, they are playing snap. Apparantly the rules have changed since I used to play, these days you are supposed to fart instead of yell SNAP! Isaac appears to be winning.

Now, THIS you see, I can do.

As an older mum, I have the opportunity to watch young mums at work and see how they get worked up about stuff that to me, is funny. It wasn't funny when Dan, Jordan and Sophie did it, I thought it meant they would grow up deliquent ( and they didn't did they? Selfish maybe, insane and screwy but not deliquent)
The great thing about a second chance at anything is that you can use what you learned and do it better.

Because we are more than a little dim, my husband and I thought that seeing as the boys have a week half term holiday from school, we would do the whole DVD morning thing again. Invite a ton of little boys, fill them with sugar and colourings and send them home. we love it, they love it, the other parents love it, everybody loves it.
The only draw back is that sometimes, the other mums want to stay, which means srubbing toilets and cleaning kitchens and bedrooms and sitting rooms and polishing and all that stuff. Just in case. I draw the line at clearing the ironing, I think that makes me seem normal and loveable, that pile of ironing for all these people that, some day, I will get around to, or just do what I need when we need it, whatever.
So, feverishly wiping and vacuuming, I was busy as a bee downstairs, boys upstairs, you know what's coming don't you? Oh! you may think you know, but you don't.
Elijah is what happened.
This....is what happened.





That is the courtyard, outside their room, that leads to the little flat under our house, where 5 polish people live. The courtyeard is covered wit 5467 dinosaurs and little animals. I didn't take a picture of the guttering, the roof, the windowsills, or the floor of the bedroom that looked worse than the courtyard because somehow, those sights didn't make me laugh quite as hard as the ground outside.
Isaac stood bemused and a little excited that he was allowed to clear up, until his arms were about to drop off and one huge bin bag was full as well as that toy bucket.

The other stuff ? The teenage stuff, let's not go into that today, some light relief was needed. we had fun with the guests who were only 5 in number, as well as Isaac's classroom assistant who he invited because he loves her. She came because she loves him.

We are standing firm with the big ones, they don't like it....we don't care.
I sink into sadness and then tell myself that this is just how it is, that when we are through it, we will all be happier. And we will.
Hooray.