I blame testosterone.

I am loathe to admit it but I am so over all this boy stuff lately. As the boys grow the testosterone levels are soaring and good grief it's annoying. Seems when 2 of them area round it's manageable, when that third one walks into the mix, no matter which one it is, all hell breaks loose.

Why in the name of pleasantness can they just not get along?

Why, if their absolute favourite show is on can they just not sit and watch it? Why do they have to jump on each others' heads / legs/ backs ? Oh how I miss the days of High school musical, of watching Eli dance and sing and mince about like a fairy on crack.

Who'd have thought that Ben 10 and power rangers could bring such violence and NOISE to my life, untuneful noise, with no twirling?

The constant 'YARGH! Ooof! TAKE THAT!" Makes me crazy, at 7.30am.....we maybe shouldn't even discuss that.

The need to be biggest, best, loudest, fastest is so huge it's scary, the outrage if someone appears to be beating them at anything " NO!!! I got dressed first I did, not YOU" is ridiculous.

It seems they are incapable of sitting still or walking in a straight line, everything is done with leg kicks and arm chops, headstands are a must when watching TV, apparantly.

The problem with having boys so close in age is that as soon as one outgrows a hideous phase, the next one hits it, no break, no chance to take a breath and gird ourselves for the next bout.

These 3 are so different to the last batch of kids I made. The first batch was evenly spaced, one nice boy...2 years, another nice boy, 2 years a girl. That worked out rather nicely for me.

The 2 boys got along for the most part, the girl was a whole new thing, a change is as good as a rest they say.

This time, nice boy, 11 months, nice boy, 2 years nice boy. Wouldn't you think that would be alright? Oh but it's not. Now they are all here, in a big old lump it is anything but alright. Far too much time is spent seperating them,warning them, dargging them away from mortal danger as they all try to exercise the need to be the BEST, the BRAVEST, the LOUDEST.

I miss the acre of land we had at the barn, I miss the 14ft trampoline at the horrible house, I miss them going to bed at 6pm!

They are like caged animals in this house, there is nowhere for them to go and release all this energy they have......there is only so much drawing and colouring a group of bouncy boys can do in a day. As they get more boyish, I find myself needing more girlie. Power Rangers = the need for a new pillow. Bouts of kung fu like leaping = the longing for a pretty smell or a nice plant.

If this carries on my home will be one filled to the brim with Laura Ashley and floral prints.

I shall have candles and swirly things on every available surface.

I always sent prayers of thanks for having a ratio of 5 boys to one girl, that was before I saw what fun a girl can be....now I am a little sad that I am so outnumbered by these willy wielding gitlets. I sort of long for someone who wants to shop with me, who claps hands at a new ribbon or gets giddy at the Barbie commercials.

I can only see it getting worse the older they get, they are all such BOYISH boys too ( what? Who was worried by Eli and his penchant for fluffy and pink? WHo? Me? No, I think you are mistaken!)

I have never been a frilly sort of girl, I don't swoon over scarves or boots or high heels. Make up is a light covering of whatever is needed to improve the look of the day, I hate lipstick, I get my hair cut twice a year if I remember. Manicures are a mystery to me. The only dress I remember ever buying was my wedding dress, I don't do frocks willingly.

As I age though, as I am overpowered by the masculine family I bore, I am feeling a need to make myself heard! I want them to notice that I am a woman....that there is someone here who doesn't get the whole punching, kicking, karate chopping, yelling thing.

It's almost worth crying just to see the array of stunned and WTH? expressions a family of boys/men can show at such a terrifying spectacle, just a glimse of those startled faces is enough ( usually) to drag me out of the dolldrums because they are just all so clueless!

Oh, you know what? It's time to show some pictures....some before pictures and some now pictures. I hate having my picture taken, in June when I went to Boston I had so many pictures taken I was amazed that I didn't scurry away and find a rock to hide under. I am so glad that they were taken though, because now I can compare the ones that Sophie took today, right as I swiped a sweet from Seth and stuffed it in my mouth before he could rescue it!
So...June......


and this morning




And June...

( with splendid Sara, who always looks so beautiful!)

and today....


stuffing a foamy banana and doing the typical and oft seen move of a fat person, dragging the shirt away from any lumps and bumps!!

I am so thrilled to see a change! I know I can keep going, I shall keep taking pictures every couple of months so that I can see that this is working....oh please let it keep working!!

Well, nobody lost a digit!

I am 46. I think I may have sworn more in the first morning of my 47th year than any other morning, it wasn't going well to begin with.
At noon, or very close to then I answered the door to discover a delivery man on the doorstep.
With these...from Cathy, in Boston

And things changed.
Life got good and kept getting better, right up until H and I went for dinner and my card was refused. ( and I wasn't in the least embarrassed because I knew I had more than enough to cover our meal, I knew it was their machine but still....not fun!
I took the boys out to run and jump and they did...




















The boys went to Jordan and Mel's house while H and I went for a delicious Indian meal, we may have left them there a bit longer than it took to eat, they played on the Wii and we got them just in time to go to bed.
I am going to take Eli to the Dr, he just cries all day, every day, this is not like him, he gets a fever, pukes, cries and sleeps, all randomly and when you are used to being such a happy go lucky soul, well something isn't right. I hope he has just got very tired and needs to catch up but it all seems weird to me, so we'll see.
For now, 46 isn't bad at all. I may hang onto it for a year and see how it goes.

Oh look! No baby!

I am such a snob about my blog, if I bore myself thinking about what to write...I don't write anything, I'm sorry if there are aching fingers clickedy clicking the refresh button to see if this tardy grandbaby of mine has deigned to bless us with his presence. The answer to that is still a resounding NO I am afraid.
I started to write a witty update that was to end with THE END because that would have made me hoot with laughter, but dear life it was dull and never got further than 'we walked' and so delete and shut down won over the day.
How many times can an impatient Nana to be say " No baby yet" without driving herself nutso?
Jordan and Mel have turned their phones off, that means that I am getting ALL the phone calls, I get all the emails and all the texts.
I broke down last night and mentioned the nipple stimulation, Mel reacted pretty much the way I Imagined she would " Oh, I know about that but you have to do it for HOURS!" and the midwife has told her about sex so I can leave that one alone.
We have walked, bounced, eaten spicey food, worn my fingers to the bone with reflexology and back massaging with Clary sage and Jasmine, Mel can barely walk because " Oh, do pardon me for waddling but there is a head between my legs" the boy is a sneeze away from falling out. If all else fails, on monday she will be induced, which by then will mean the Doctor saying " COUGH" and making sure he is in the line of fire to catch said lazy gitlet.
He is just too much like his parents, both of whom will happily stay in one spot having a doze until something exciting comes along or they are physically ousted from their warm and cosy spot.
He is a week late today, I forgot to see what the stupid widget was saying.....I think it may have started from scratch becuase last time I looked it said 10 days to go, I didn't show Mel that because she may well have shot the messenger, we are treading lightly around this normally sweet and placid girl at the moment.
HA HA HA!! LOOK! The baby in the WIDGET has gone, been born, got out, My grandbaby wins! Na na na na na ( but not NANA!) well if that doesn't pretty much say it all. I am ridiculously annoyed by that because i was looking forward to making that skinny little baby disappear when my real life plump and healthy boy grandchild arrives, how dare they presume that because 41 weeks arrived it must mean that the baby was born and I forgot to remove said widget. How very dare they?

What other news? Diarrhea, so much of it. Eli has had it for a week and that may be because he keeps sneaking the worst kind of food ...Isaac came into our bed last night and whimpered for 2 hours..then let us know why, Seth just began his day by yelling that he needed a shower, say no more.
I will take the time to say THREE WEEKS TODAY I will be in Boston, with the laughing ladies.
I have been having a huge private freak out this week about it. The beginnings of the flying colly-wobbles have begun which I expected, I can battle with those I think, not nearly as worrying to be flying alone, when I knew that the boys were flying with us in December I was so sick of the idea it took a hefty prescription to even get me to the airport.
My freak out this week is all about me. It is truly a battle of wills, with a Fat, poor chick on one shoulder and a reasonable loving one on the other.

Fat chick " Oh my goodness would you look at you! Are they all going to get a shock when they clap eyes on YOU "

Reasonable Loving Chick " what utter hogwash, does it matter to YOU what anyone looks like?"

FC " No, but that may because they are all so lovely and have nice homes and pretty clothes, they are girly and know what to wear with what, unlike ME with my 'this fits, that'll do ' approach to life.

RLC " You are being ridiculous now. Your home could be lovely if you got off your admittedly large backside and did something with it, 5 months is long enough....get up and make it beautiful, so its rented, big deal, that means the landlord gets to pay for repairs, doesn't mean you are destined to live in a squat, do your stuff"

FC "Don't you start in me RLC, I am going to Boston, I need money for that, we are hittin Target and outlet malls , I am squirrelling money away, every wooden blind I buy now means 10 minutes in a shop in Boston, Priorities people priorities!"

RLC "well there you go, you answered yourself, your house isn't worthy of showing because you made a choice, you look the way you do because you make a choice everytime you open your mouth and shove food into it, can't help you with the crazy hair, that's your dad's doing and you can't speak ill of the dead, you may have to suck that one up and pray for no rain or humidity when you get to Boston. Clothes, hmmm Target have good ones, you're going to have to fight that life long battle wherein you feel obliged to buy for every one else and not yourself, if you want nice clothes you need to buy them and then wear them...unavoidable"

FC....."ack, you got me there, that's a tough one alright. I shall make it my challenge when I get there to buy things for ME, might need some pushing in that direction, will you help me out?

RLC " you bet I will, just make sure you don't go buying any wooden blinds for that house before you go, just shut the curtains and pretend you are out if anyone calls, that old 'sorry we're in a mess but we just moved in' statemnnet so doesn't work anymore."

I am trying to say that every negative ridiculous statement churning around in my head is just that, I know that all those people I am going to meet, love who I am, they don't care if I live in a rented house with ill matching curtains and carpets, with antwacky old paintwork and grotty lampshade, they don't give a stuff whether I have a credit card or not, they won't notice ( and even if they did won't care a jot) that my clothes aren't crisp and pretty, new and fetching, I know all this, I don't need anyone to tell me that it doesn't matter, I know it.....making myself accept it is the hard part.
I glimpse myself in a shop window and just feel like scuttling away into a hole, I am dreading having cameras pointed at me and feeling that maddening grimace that can't quite make it into smile, that look of complete idiocy that fills my face whenever there is a camera pointed anywhere in my direction, it's beyond me why I can't just smile and be done with it.
Oh look a camera! Look stupid!
Anyway, I am giving myself a jolly good talking to, by the time I get to Bsoton I shall be so maddeningly confident I suspect I may find myself shoved to the back of the room when the camera come out because 'remember Helen? How annoying was SHE? My goodness she was in our faces the whole time with her 'take a picture of ME!' '
I have found a song just right for the occassion....all together now......



Oh and before I go....guess what! No baby yet. ( not even in that little widget up there, nope not even there!)