Sunshine...

Well, look at this! I have a blog still, who knew?
Life is ticking along and really, what more can we ask?
The weather ( yes, I am writing about the weather, I have no excuses) is outstanding, SO hot and sunny, day after day, endless sunshine and incredible temperatures. I so hope we have a great summer this year, the boys still have 4 weeks left of school, I can't wait for trips to the beach and parks, travel to Cornwall and further afield.
We have booked a caravan in Cornwall for when Isaac has a residential school trip, I can't imagine him going with a new teacher and a different set of kids right after he starts next school year, I know he will love the trip and all the activities, so we have booked a caravan close by so that if he finds sleeping away too much he can stay with us at night and we can take him back for the daily activities. I am so looking forward to exploring Cornwall with H and the boys, I don't think we will mind even if it is raining, there is so much to see and do in the area we will still have a great time.

H leaves the house at 5am every day and off he goes to dig and weed, tend and contemplate. He is, dare I say it, a crunchy hippie of the most devoted kind. I have yet to see him hug a tree but I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't pat the apple tree in an affectionate manner when he is alone at the allotment.
He plays this, in the kitchen, he does, personally it makes me want to be physically violent, I suspect my DNA is so broken that there is no hope, but he believes that listening to this will heal DNA, what happens when you have broken DNA is a mystery to me and I am loathe to find out, if I am anything to go by I would say that you become very cynical and bad tempered, hey ho, to each his own.


We continue to eat only organic, free range, delicious meat and this very morning, when we all went to the allotment together we ate fresh raspberries from the bush, the berries are all beginning to show, the tomatoes are starting to grow right along with our excitement.
We have told the school that from September we will be homeschooling Elijah.
OH MY GREAT AND SCARY LIFE!
He is so far behind and his teacher has done absolutely nothing to help him. I love the school he is in, they have been fine with Seth, fabulous with Isaac and have completely let Eli slip through the net. HE cannot concentrate and he will never have the time or attention in a class of 30+ children that he needs.
We plan, eventually to be homeschooling all the boys. Neither H nor I can face the idea of sending the boys to a public secondary school, we don't have the money for private education and we just cannot imagine sending Seth, Isaac and Eli into the pit that is secondary education these days.
I sat at the train station last week, waiting for Eli to come home from a school trip and I watched the teenagers from one of the local schools arrive to catch the train home. This group of kids weren't more than 13 or 14 yet it was impossible to tell whether they had come from school, though they had uniform of sorts, the skirts were rolled up to ridiculous heights, the shirts were tight and gaping across the boobs, it was the hair and make up that threw me somewhat. What in the world is going on with the schools, parents and kids these days, why in my day...... Whoops, forgot I wasn't quite 70 yet but really, why are these girls allowed to go to school with hair piled high, back combed, sprayed and teased to within an inch of their lives, what is going on when they have such thick make up that they look like little street walkers?
They draped themselves over the gangly loud mouthed boys and I just felt so sad that so young these kids are hurtling towards adulthood, way before they have the necessary coping skills.
On the other hand I watched a young boy of 15, home schooled, not involved with the seeming hard requirements of young teens in public schools, he sat with his dad, head on his dad's shoulder...a sight like that is almost never seen anymore, by 15 boys are supposed to be tough and worldly wise, interested in girls and video games and family, well family is stupid and 'parents don't know nothin'
Seth is almost 10 years old and already we see how his body shape is changing, his walk is different, he tends to use hand gestures rather than words, nods at his mates and in public will walk ahead of us. It intrigues me to see how adolescence is rearing it's head already and I would and will do anything to slow down the transition to teenage years for these boys.
I have been talking to Seth about his body, he has been asking more and more about the facts of life and it has been a pleasure to talk to him about these things, he is so interested and sensible and I so want him to stay that way, he laughs and says he can't believe I tell him these things and will talk to him about them and I explained that he needs to know these things and if I tell him he will learn the real facts and all the necessary background information, if I didn't talk to him about it all, he would hear from his friends talking and would most likely hear the wrong information. I hope he always feels OK with asking me, he waits until we are on our own and has said that he can't imagine his dad ever discussing such things with him.
I am sure he is right about that, it's almost worth telling him to ask H just to see what reaction we get! Bless his heart, H doesn't do talking and talking about intimacy to a child, well let's just say I can't see it happening!
Isaac, Elijah and I went to the opticians last week, upon arriving the receptionist asked the usual questions, checking address and phone numbers etc and then she asked " Are you all fit and well?" I replied that we were just as Elijah said " NO! He ( pointing at Isaac) has ASSpergers, what IS ASSpergers? Have I got ASSpergers? I wish I had ASSpergers" I looked at him with a dumbfounded expression and the receptionist said " Why do you wish you had Aspergers Eli?"
"Because I love saying that naughty bit at the beginning!"
This boy is delightful. I love the way his head works, we are excited to have him home and watch him learn and grow and hold onto his sweet and innocent self. I say innocent, whereas in fact he is body obsessed at the moment, every chance he gets to say a bad word, flash his backside or be rude, is grasped with both hands and every ounce of naughty is enjoyed to it's fullest.
I can't believe he is 7 next month, the older I get the faster time flies, I want to enjoy this time and wish I could hold it back for a while.
Childhood is such an important and precious time, I feel so strongly that we should try and keep it around for as long as possible, not waste a day of it.
I have been so irritable lately and I just don't know why, perhaps H has the right idea after all and walking away from medicines and chemicals and embracing the natural and clear is not such a crazy idea after all, perhaps I need to eat some greens and listen to that screeching some more...or not.

The great I am.

I went to Cardiff yesterday to see Britain's got Talent auditions, we had fun as we did last year but not quite as much fun.
We waited outside the Millennium center with thousands and thousands of other people ( but not for as long because *ahem*, I had PRIORITY tickets thankyouverymuch) and every now and then there would be some hysterical screaming and one of the 'stars' would arrive, An.t and D.ec...HUGE screaming and one lady behind us called someone and could barely breathe for excitement, we were taken inside before Sim*on C*owell ( smart move there, he won't google himself and find himself reading all about what I think of him! ) arrived but when he entered the theatre there was much screaming and hyperventilating ( yes, I did, can't be helped because "SIMOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!) and yesterday, along with the crowd swaying adulation, I couldn't help but look really hard at these people, who are, you know, just people, as far as I know they haven't found a cure for cancer, banished poverty, set up orphanages in Romania etc but we lesser mortals look upon them as something so splendid and worthy, hoping that they might just glance our way, smile at our camera ( thankyou S.tephen M.ulhern for doing just that, although you may well have been smiling at a seagull behind us, who knows, we have a smiley photograph! Last year, of course, we got a picture of you with your arms around Sophie, Mel and Gemma so the casual glance in our general direction might have been a slight anti climax) The other thing that is noticeable is they are small in stature, if you stood any of them next to Dan, Jordan or heaven help us all me, they would look like itsy bisty teeny weeny slightly orange celebriteenies. An ordinary man in the street, that was the same size would perhaps appear puny, if you even happened to glance at them at all that is. BUT....and there is a but, they don't SEEM little, you don't look at them and feel disappointed with them for not being 6' 5" and built like a what's its name brick house. They ooze importance, they feel HUGE they especially Simon, darn it all for feeling this way when really, it would be quite cool to look at him and think "Heh! Is that IT?" the power that oozes from them is something you have to experience to understand. I looked and I whooped, I took pictures (that didn't come out because the lighting was hopeless) and I tried to imagine what it would be like, how it would feel to have that kind of power. I watched the minions running about after these men ( and woman) I saw that they all have different water to drink, they have 'people' fetching and carrying, they have their makeup touched up constantly ( especially Simon, every 10 minutes someone would pop along and powder his face) I wondered if they are even aware that this is happening anymore, I wondered if they appreciate that these people are, for real, people, with feelings and dreams, hopes and hurts.
I thought about those people in Haiti and how so many of them would be grateful for ANY glass of clean water, a soft chair, a kind word, not caring whether the water was still or fizzy, in a glass or mug, from a tap or filtered jug and somehow that became all I could think about. I became obsessed with the balance of riches, I am not saying that these people don't deserve what they have, how wonderful that in this world it is possible for people to rise and achieve so much, I just thought about what an enormous responsibility it would be to have so many riches.
I wonder how I would fare with so much. I was talking to Sophie and asked if she thought what it would be like to have so much money you didn't ever have to actually think about money. I often say how great that would be but actually, I think I might well be terrified if I were ever in that situation. I wondered if these people believe the hype, if they actually believe that they are better than the average man or woman who have to write shopping lists and save for a holiday. We decided that money is great, not worrying about money is the ultimate dream but for me, there is definitely a limit to how much money I would like.
I think of how excited I get when I get a bargain, when I win an Ebay auction, when I grab a great deal at the car boot sale. The pride I felt when I bought my car, for cash, that I had saved, who cared if it was 9 years old? Not me, it smelled so good and I felt so good driving it, I still pat it's dashboard and tell it I like it. How soon would the novelty of money run out if nothing was that great a pleasure anymore?
I love to daydream about the good I could do if I won the lottery, how I would pay off this mortgage for that person, cancel this person's debt so they could start again, but homes and rent them to hard working families who just need a break, for a small rent so they could build a home and feel secure. I dream of all kinds of good I could do....I wonder if I would do it, or if I would become afraid that I would lose that money, if I would become more selfish and driven by holding onto those riches.
There is no doubt that I would love to be able to wave a magic money wand and for example, buy my sister and brother in law a new computer because the only one they have has died, so now they have a business to run and no computer. I want to hand Jordan money to pay for his wedding to Mel, although actually, to see him working for an agency on his days off, to drive him to work at 7.30am and see a beautiful sunrise, watching him walk into an old peoples' home to make dinner for 40 senior citizens when he could be having a lie in on his day off, when he tells me, with such pride and excitement on the drive that he has made a spread sheet and is able to watch the wedding costs go down as he pays them off, one by one.... why would I want to miss out on those moments? How will my son feel when he marries Mel and he looks around at all he has achieved? So much more than if he is handed the day on a plate. ( I am still saving so I can give them a surprise though)
I think the Lord knows where I belong, I don't feel hard done by at all with what I have and where I am. I have my treasures and I love knowing that I can take mine with me when the time comes. I love nice things, I love having money sometimes, I love sharing it, I also like knowing who I am and how important each person is. I hope never to have people running after me and fetching and carrying while I appear oblivious to them. ( although the running after me bit...sweet!! Peel me a grape!)
I think I will be happy with life as it is for me, with small steps and huge moments. It is enough ( And some)

It's an age thing.

It's actually rather splendid getting older, I admit that the chin whiskers would take over if I wasn't on constant beard watch, the grey in my hair is a sweet memory and when I leave my hair undyed for longer than 3 weeks I see that actually, my hair is snowy white now, lawks. That's not something that fills me with much joy but on the whole, getting older is quite lovely.
I was putting my pyjamas on the other night ( still know when to do what, that's a plus) and I always put the top on before the bottoms ( riveting, I know) and I pulled my pyjama pants on and as I looked down, blow me if the top wasn't tucked in the bottoms, like some dear old lady determined to hold it all together and rather than feel horrified I was actually quite happy as I thought to myself " Not long and you'll be able to get away with that, in the day, outside, in public"
When I was young, I would look at older ladies, with their stretchy waisted trousers and slip on shoes and wonder what in the world had happened, no-one in their 20's or even 30's thinks that elasticated waist polyester trousers are OK. Ever.
Yet look around and you will see old ladies wearing them with such pride, some with creases ironed in, the very posh older lady will wear those skirts, of a certain flowery material, in vibrant pinks and purples that no-one under 50 would ever dream of wearing. Is there an old lady shop that I don't know about because I swear I haven't ever seen those skirts in a shop, ever yet so many older ladies have them.
I adore old ladies, I do, I love to see them walking through town and I always want to talk to them and ask them their stories and I rejoice in their ability to wear their shirts tucked into their stretchy waistbands.
I don't mind at all hurtling towards being a member of that club.
I think my ovaries are having a last hoorah, I find myself for only the second time in my life, so painfully broody. I feel as though I want one last baby, especially a baby girl, one with curly hair and big brown eyes. Oh what a beautiful baby she would be.
I think, also, that the desperation is stronger because I can't have any more babies. I am sure that if H hadn't had a vasectomy and I wasn't so old and creaky, I wouldn't give having a baby another thought. If the choice was there, I probably wouldn't want one. Probably.
I am just indulging my feelings by thinking of how lovely it would have been and not telling myself how this poor old body would collapse if a new person were to grow inside it, never mind have to look after a baby again.

I find, also, as I get older that the need to tell other people how to live their lives is almost overwhelming, especially famous people. I read all about these youngsters splitting up and moving on to the next 'love' 2 weeks later and I want to bang their stupid heads together.
I even think in sentences that start with " now listen here!" and " what in the world?"
My sister called me the other day, she is 4 years older than me and she doesn't have little children to help her think she is younger than her 50 years, so she called me to tell me, with both horror and pride that as she came out of Asda, she saw some hoodlum throw his empty pop bottle on the ground. She said before she knew what was happening she had picked it up and was running behind them saying " EXCUSE ME!!! HEY! You dropped THIS!!! HEY!!! Come back here and put it in the bin!"
She told me how the other part of her head was yelling at HER saying " SHUT UP! You stupid old bag, they'll turn around and beat you up..what are you DOING! You are making a holy show of yourself!" But that other part, the one that was actually yelling after 2 young men, just kept shouting and running after them. Even when they turned around and said " Wasn't me lady" she said " YES , yes it WAS because I SAW you! Put. it. in. the. bin!"

I am considerably less willing to deal with drama and nonsense. The longer you live, the more you learn what is really important, the easier it is to walk away from situations that are getting you nowhere. Life is so short and it's such a shame to waste any of it in futile pursuits.
Life is about giving and gaining good things, knowledge and friendships, memories and joy.
Perhaps it's because I will be 47 this month I am noticing how my place in life is changing, how the things I find important are so different to those that mattered 20 years ago.
There is such joy in the smallest of things. Time is more precious and what I do with my time seems to matter more.

It's not all bad getting older, especially when you think of the alternative!

Is it just me?

I love Christmas, I do, this year has been especially wonderful, from start to finish I loved it. I wonder why then, every year, on Boxing day I can't wait to take it all DOWN, put it away, clean it up?
If the boxes weren't up in the loft I would, right now at 11.16pm, be packing all this finery and frippery away. Til next year.
I actually love the feeling of taking it down as much As I love putting it all up. Everything looks so much barer and empty but I quite like that.
The tree that looks so pretty on Christmas eve, suddenly gets on my nerves on boxing day.
The ribbons and baubles, the Santas and reindeer are suddenly so in the way.
So, ho hum.......when can we take it down without appearing too keen on being over it all already?
Also, the routine. I often try to buck against the endless and rigid routine we have in this house. This time of year I find myself longing for it...oh for bedtime at 8pm, for ice cream at 7. I miss routine, lovely sameness. ( yes, you may remind me of that when I am ready to scream SPONTANEITY!!!) I am ready for slimfast at 7 am, vegetable soup at noon ( although, bubble and squeak..mmmmmmm! Cold ham and pickles, delicious!) I can't wait for H to be obsessive about the dishes and wash the kitchen floor every evening again.
I think I have been pretty good about what I eat but I have most certainly eaten more than I should have. I bought scales 2 days before Christmas because I wanted to be able to keep a check on what I was doing and not kid myself that it was a free for all and wouldn't matter for a day or 5. ( and having typed that I went out and packed all the chocolate and sweets away, up high and out of reach, to be shared out on saturdays..to the boys and not me! The basket full of goodies was right outside the front room on a bench in the hall, where it was easy to grab a treat as I walked past...not anymore! I am pretty sure that I won't bother to reach up and get any from on top of the kitchen cabinets. )
Yes I am ready for normal. ( Because we are so normal aren't we?)
I learned a lot this year, about me mostly. I learned that doing things, even when you are terrified can be a good thing, in fact it is almost always a good thing.
For so many years I have lived dictated to by the 'but what ifs' If I do that then surely this will happen, better not risk doing that then. This year I have pushed past so many fears, I can't say that I have lost any of the fears, every one of them seems still to be there, or here, with me, but I have learned that I can push them to one side and tell them to go to hell and just do what I want to do anyway. I don't just mean the flying, I tackled the need to always be in control, to always need to know what is happening and why. I thin I lost a lot of anger this year, they say you are only as happy as your most miserable child. My saddest child is now happier than she has ever been. That is the greatest thing for me, every day I feel myself breathing a little deeper and exhaling...deep breathing and allowing myself to feel as though things could really be better. I still have that miserable voice whispering how it won't last, how something is sure to come along and .....and then I shut it up and I tell myself that right now, it IS good and that is what matters, that right now I can breathe and enjoy this day.
What is great about that is that now I can relax and not do that anymore for a while, the being afraid and going ahead anyway. I mean for goodness sake, I'm all for pushing the boundaries of fear to show you can do it, to keep doing it would be sheer folly, I'm against folly of any kind, the sheer sort especially.
This year I am going to make some resolutions, I don't usually because it's a bit naff isn't it and who keeps them anyway? This year though, I feel so differently and I want to have some definite things to work towards and also away from. I have a faint idea what some of the resolutions will be, but I am saving them until new years eve, because if a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing well and properly. All in good time.
Oh look...1am, time to sleep and get some energy for tomorrow....I wonder if H will get down the totes for me to start packing the decorations away? I bet he will!
Dan is coming tomorrow, that's always fun ( and very very loud!) He's handy to have around when there is stuff to drag down or put up...and he has a car so maybe we can all go out somewhere together! Hoorah! Fresh air and lttle boys who can run and make noise without my ears feeling they will bleed!

And on saturday..

There was peace for a whole 2 hours, during which I slept.
I got up at 6am ( what is going on with the 6am waking up? ) and I went right out to Asda ( well not right out, I did get dressed, tempting though it was to go in my Jamas) I went to buy fresh cranberries, posh marmalade and walnuts. I made quite the most delicious cranberry sauce, recipe from Lacey. Honestly I don't think I will ever be able to buy a jar of the shop bought gloop again, this stuff is so divine I can't wait for Christmas eve to try it with the Turkey.
I made Oreo truffles, which are glorious and so rich that eating more than 2 is likely to send you to the sofa to curl up in a ball and promise to only ever eat one next time.
I made vegetable soup ( somewhat begrudgingly, truth be told and H and grandpa have taken to eating it every day for lunch which means I am making it every other day instead of twice a week .....as if there isn't anything else to do!)
I put together some pretty boxes and put the truffles and homemade chocolates in them.
It was, by this time 10am!
H and grandpa took the boys to the movies, oh sweet joy, they were gone 2 hours and I had a glorious nap, naps are the very best thing ever, I wish I slept that kind of sleep at night, why is afternoon sleep so different to night time sleep? Also, how is it that I sleep with H who doesn't move, honestly I don't think I have ever seen him turn, fidget ( oh I did one night and I was ready to push the pillow over his head, he laughed ..hard because I actually yelled at him, it was so bizarre that he was just twitching like he was wired up and getting zapped every .05 of a second, CUT THAT OUT!)
Anyway, he sleeps so still, on his back ( which never looks comfy to me does it to you?) so how is it that somehow, in his non moving sleep, every single night he scrunches the duvet up, inside the cover, so the cover is where it should be, the duvet inside is twisted, bunched up, lumped together. HOW DOES HE DO THAT?
Before you say anything, it is definitely him doing it, I make that bed every morning, he will have a nap....screwed up, lopsided, scrunchy up inside duvet. I remake it, if I take a nap.....still everything as it should be...he goes to bed, by the time I get in there it's every (wo)man to herself. I grab one corner and I tuck it under my right arm and I sleep hanging on to that little bit of quilt all night.
I'm not even going to try and make this post make any sense, my thoughts are all over the place tonight so it's hang onto the seat of your pants and try to keep up. Please.
Yesterday, on our traumatic trip to a lovely garden centre, the plan was to see if Santa was there. Well it would seem Santa has gone part time and even if he HAD been there, those boys weren't about to go and see him, they were really, really horrible.
At bath time we were talking about Santa and how we would go on Monday.
Seth. " yes, I want to tell him that I want a Liverpool football club goalies kit"
ME. " Oh nonsense...you have never in your life said you want a LFC kit, you told me you wanted a San Diego Chargers kit"
Seth. "well, he's not likely to even know who they are is he?"
Me "Of COURSE! He travels the world, he knows everything"
Seth " No he doesn't, he is FAKE!"





I think the world stood still for a second or 12.
Isaac's eyes almost bugged out of his head and quick as a flash I did that quick in draw of breath whilst making the AHHHHHHHHHHHH! Sound.
"COAL!!!! Seth is going to get a lump of COAL!"
Isaac thought this was just about the coolest thing and laughed so hard he coughed half a lung up and Seth....
" Oh, um I mean THAT one is fake, that one at that shop is fake, not the REAL one, the REAL one isn't fake and I didn't mean the REAL one, just THAT one is fake"
I have no idea whether he knows or not that Santa, though very real and knowledgeable, isn't quite as he has been led to believe or if he really did mean that this particular Santa is fake.
I know that Eli was almost paralysed with fear at the very mention of the authenticity of Father Christmas. I absolutely and completely am melted by the face of a little person when they belive in Santa and magic, the huge eyes, the sparkle, the holding of breath and the incredible joy. I am trying to hold onto every moment this year because it is sure to stop sooner than I can stand to imagine.
The boys and I drove around town and delivered the oreo truffles, cranberry sauce and home made chocolates this evening, I want them to be givers as well as wait for the presents they are excited about. When we get home I asked them how they felt as they gave the gifts.....they agreed that it was fun and felt good and I continued by saying how giving is even better than receiving. I so wish I could capture the expression on Seth's face. He has a rubber face and it's like an open book, his face told me that he may not be convinced that giving is better than receiving!
It's 1.30, I am tired at last and ready to go and join H in the scrumpled up twisted quilt bed.
Today was a lovely day. 5 Sleeps til Christmas day. Splendid!