Friday, 27 November 2009
The very same queue of traffic that you sit in for almost an hour, whilst watching a steady stream of cars take the right filter lane and turn off into moving traffic.
That very same queue that always occurs when you only know that road to get you to your destination.
Today I was stuck in one of those queues, on one of those roads, watching that steady stream of traffic turn off in the right filter lane..............
Assuming that said cars were taking a short cut - obviously they were all heading towards my destination as we'd been on the same road - right? - I decided to take the right filter lane and followed the car in front.
We turned left, then right, then right, then left, straight over the roundabout, into a housing estate (you get the picture?).
My feelings of smugness at having found a way to beat the queue of traffic soon subsided when the car I had been following pulled onto a driveway and the driver got out and went into the house.
Shit - I was lost!!
My short cut resulted in me spending the next 30 minutes trying to navigate my way out of the housing estate, only to rejoin the queue of traffic further up the road from the point where I had taken the right filter lane 30 minutes earlier.
If that wasn't bad enough, my Dad couldn't hold his laughter when he asked me why I'd not used the Sat Nav. I wasn't even bright enough to lie and say that I didn't have it in the car with me!!
The moral of the take - never assume!!
Friday, 20 November 2009
Sung very loundly by Dora at 22.30hrs last night.
I didn't know whether to:-
1) Ignore her and hope she would eventually drop off to sleep
2) Enter her bedroom and tell her to stop singing and to go to sleep
3) Enter her bedroom and teach her to sing it properly
I opted for 3 - only to be told:-
"No Mummy, you are wrong. This is how we sing it at my nursery"
I think I need to go to next weeks sing & sign session - I'd love to see the Makaton signs for that one!!
I then opted for 2!!!
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Let me rewind.............. Lola is a child of habit. She thrives on routine, structure and boundaries. She really does not cope well with change, don't get me wrong she is adaptable in many areas - but when it comes to home life, keeping the status quo with Lola is a must!
7 weeks without Mr M and boys, of running all over the place juggling work and nursery, 7 weeks of very early starts and extremely late finishes has taken its toll on all of us.
I love my girls, but right now I really do not like Lola very much. More specifically I really do not like the constant whinging, the persistent demanding, the stubborn defiance she displays at every request I make.
I'm at breaking point tonight, I just want my husband home, my boys back and my little girl to behave!
Friday, 23 October 2009
Let me start at the beginning....
I was on the telephone to my friend A earlier this evening. We were having such a laugh at her youngest son -who had lost a tooth and became most disgruntled when the tooth fairy forgot to pay him a visit. He was so unhappy that he decidid th write to said tooth fairy to tedll her exactly what he thought of her tooth collecting ability. It really was comical - especially given that this child is such a serious little boy, who thinks everything through.
Anyway, I end the call and walk into the kitchen to be greated by................................................
.................................... A huge great Molar sitting in the middle of the floor!
When I say a huge great molar, I actually mean a regular sized molar, but for effect I changed the description!
Picture me, tongue rapidly checking that I have all of my teeth (yes, you'd have thought I would have known if I'd lost one without having to check!), me holding the girls almost upside down and checking that they had not lost a tooth - which neither of them had.
So I'm stumped. I have no idea where the tooth came from or how it got to be on my kitchen floor. But wanted to share my little bit of spookyness with you all!
Answers on a postcard please!
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
It has been four weeks since I dropped them off at school and said 'see you soon'.
I've had no contact with the boys since this day and my heart is truly breaking.
Never in the last 9 years have I gone longer than 2 weeks without seeing them. They have been a constant part of my life and I a constant part of theirs.
Lola is in a bit of a state emotionally this week, I know she is stressed as her eczema has flared up. Being 3 she can't understand why Daddy and the boys have had to go away. She has spoken to Daddy - who's thousands of miles away- on the phone, yet we've not managed to have any contact with the boys and they are only the other side of the city!
Cruella has really pulled the punches this time - I'm on the ropes and out for the count.
I feel so angry at Cruella for doing this to us. More importantly I feel so rejected by the two boys that I have raised as my own for the last 9 years.
I know that Cruella will have made it clear to them that they are not coming here - end of story. And I know that she will not encourage them to get in touch with us at all.
But I am finding it really hard to stomach that the boys have not sent a text message (when I topped their phones up with £45 last week) they have not sent an email when I know they have Internet access, and they have ignored all the messages I have posted for them on *facebook* - when it is blatantly obvious that they are on line.
I'm beginning to wonder just how much influence Cruella is having on the boys and I am praying that this lack of contact is not their decision - it will truly break me if it is.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
Today I think I am suffering from a very severe bout of it!
- I pumped in bed this morning - something I never do when Mr M is there.
- Microwave Chicken Tikka & Rice for one this evening for tea, in the lounge no tray or knife
- Watching the trashiest TV programme ever
- Kitchen bin needs emptying -just realised it doesn't do it itself!
I think I've got a bit of adjusting to do!
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
I am blessed - well and truly, beyond anything I have ever hoped for or imagined.
For all that I have and for all that I am - I am thankful every minute of every day.
Sometimes it's hard to see the woods for the trees, I guess I need to remember what I do have and try to stop torturing myself about what I could have, should have, would have.
You have permission to kick my backside if I start to slack again!!
Take my first husband Mr H..... I was 14 years old and as innocent as you like when I met him. I did everything a good, respectful girl should have done. I became a nurse, paid my taxes and yet still I was blessed* with that Bast*rd.
Then there's Cruella, I must have done something really terrible to have her in my life? Nope, I cared for her babies when she couldn't be bothered to, I supported her ex-husband who she had broken, I supported her financially and cleared her debts so she could sit on her fat arse whilst I looked after her boys. As to why I should have been blessed* with this person remains a mystery to me!
Finally there are the in-laws, or as I like to say - The Outlaws! Lordy, lordy me! What the fuck did I do to deserve them? I've cooked, cleaned, decorated and practically run myself ragged for them. I've supported their eldest son to become the fantastic father, husband and individual he always should have been. I've nurtured their grandsons and forgive me for boasting, but done a pretty fine job! I've given them two gorgeous grand daughters and never asked for anything in return. Do I have the right to be angry when they fail to turn up for Mr M's leaving celebration? Do I have the right to feel cheated when they buy Woody a birthday gift and show up 3 days early to give it to him, then bring Dora's along 2 weeks late - unwrapped? Should I be truly pee'ved when they can not find it in themselves to offer me support in any way shape or form whilst Mr M is away, yet they demand that he utilises his 30 minutes a week telephone contact on them?
You see I'm not one to boast or gloat. I'm not one to relish in my own glory. But forgive me on this occasion if I indulge myself - just a little - a rub your nose in telling you how I am Blessed*
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Saturday, 19 September 2009
As I write this post I am juggling typing with wiping the tears and snots that are running down my face. If it's a bit garbled then I'm sorry, but I just need to get this out and let it all go.
It's now only a few days until Mr M departs for Afghanistan, if I said that I'm finding it hard to put a brave face on each morning then it would be an understatement. My heart aches already and my stomach churns every moment of every day with the anticipation of not having my best friend right here with me.
Yesterday Cruella crawled from her hole and announced that she would be withholding the boys from me for the entire time that Mr M is away - Oh, but she would be willing to let them come to me once a fortnight from 6pm Saturday until 6pm Sunday. Other than that no contact, not at birthday, halloween or Christmas.
I am devestated. Mr M and I have spent so much time with the boys trying to reassure them that they would be supported whilst Mr M is away. We have never put any pressure on them, yet they have remained adamant that they want to continue with our current contact - no changes, no messing about.
Their choice, informed and supported.
So today my heart breaks as Mr M and I have to try to explain to two wonderful boys why they are being excluded from the only thing that has been consistent and familiar for the last 9 years. What is even more hearbreaking is that they really don't understand what their mother's decision means. How do you tell that to 13 and 11 year old boys without saying truly terrible things about their mother?
As it stands I have 3 days left to spend with the men in my life, how do I enjoy these days without feeling so flaming angry?
As it stands Lola, Dora and I are loosing Mr M, Charlie and Woody from this Wednesday until sometime at the end of January 2010 - How do I explain that to a 3 and 2 year old?
Right now I wonder how I will get through each day, when just typing this post is killing me.
Monday, 7 September 2009
Happy Birthday Sweetness - Mummy Loves you so very much
(even if you do poo your pants sometimes!!)
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Thursday, 27 August 2009
Trix, hon you will know exactly where I am coming from!
I love the kids and Mr m. I love being in France. But please, for just one day- can it not be me who has to do just about everything for everybody?
Holidays are great, but flaming hard work with 4 kids and a husband who acts like an ostritch when things get tough.
On a more positive note.... A few ice pops prevented dora having to visit the medical centre, but our trip to oustreime today did incur yet another grazed knee for the little one. I really think that girl needs to forget how to run and walk once in a while!
Lola went on a beech pony trek and loved every minute of it. The boys went carting and I think they'd give Lewis Hamilton a run for his money- insert sarcasm here!
Boys have gone swimming, mr m has taken the girls to the park and I'm burning dinner- he will take us out tomorrow night!
Will post again soon, love Mrs m x
Monday we had a super crossing Dover to dunkerque - with only a slight graze sustained to dora's left knee. We drove down the coast of the north west of France -pas de calais- and our sat nav, Dave, did is proud!
We stopped on the Somme for lunch and dora sustained a cut to her left elbow. Back in the car and my relationship with Dave soon began to get a little rough around the edges- a detour through the 5th tiny village was the breaking point as it took us 30k out of our way!
We eventually arrived in Normandy and spotted pegasus bridge on our way in. We dumped our luggage and took a walk to sword beech - one of the most famous d day landing beeches from ww2.
Tuesday saw us take a trip to the hyper market, lola was fair taken with the crabs and lobsters in the tank- mr m refused to tell her they were there for people to buy to eat!
We spent the rest of the day by the swimming pool, lola is so confident in the water and Charlie and woody are both like fish. Dora really enjoyed playing with her watering can, until she tripped over it and grazed the top of her left foot!
Wednesday we drove to Arromanches and had an amazing day on the beech. Only Charlie didn't go in the sea- must be a teenage boy thing! We saw the floating pontoons that are still there from the d day landings and the girls had a ride on a beautiful carousel. Following which dora fell and skint her right knee, bless her it wouldn't stop bleeding! We ended the day with a dunk in the swimming pool and a beer at the bar!
This morning started off well, the kids were on the bouncy castles and trampolines whilst Mr m bought us fresh pain au chocolates for breakfast. Charlie and woody took the girls to recycle our plastic and on the way back dora fell and put her teeth through her bottom lip! We are just contemplating taking her to the medical centre as it looks like she might need a stitch or two!
Will post some more soon, hopefully with no more injuries!
Love Mrs m x
Sunday, 23 August 2009
I'm sorry I've been such a terrible blogger for the last few months. Life has been pretty hectic - good hectic!
We are currently getting ready to hit the road for our holiday to France..... Why don't you come along for the ride?
I'll set up my B.berry and post along the way. I'll post pictures to my other blog - for obvious reasons.
Lola is so excited she almost pee'd her pants this morning, I guess she speaks for all of us!
Sunday, 2 August 2009
They soon shed the raincoats and hats - thankfully the welly boots remained!
We had an absolute blast, even when Dora fell in a huge puddle and was covered from head to toe, even when Lola stripped to her knickers and welly boots - looking like she had just left Glastonbury!
Oh, and our tent didn't leak one bit!!
Saturday, 1 August 2009
I have started back working full time, which means I work 5 days, clean the house 1 day and catch up on everything else the other day. 'Me' time is just a figure of speech and 'relaxing' is a distant memory.
However, as strange as it sounds - all is good in the house of Mrs M.
I'm counting down the weeks until Mr M deploys to Afghanistan, we are trying to spend as much time as possible together before he departs in September. Is it wrong for me to be wishing that he were going sooner - or is that just my warped logic, the sooner he goes the sooner he returns, right?
The girls are growing rapidly and the boys are hitting the 'kevin' teenage years - oh the joys!
Cruella has been very quiet of late and to be honest I have been far too busy to give her a second thought - I did notice that her arse has gained a few inches though!!
So whats next? I feel that Mrs M is going to be somewhat sparse in her blogging over the coming weeks, but fear not my friends, something tells me that my need for free therapy will return full force once Mr M is away and Cruella starts with her spiteful games!
Mrs M x
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
I attended my grandfather's funeral and it was a truly sad day. I really don't want to relive that day - probably why I've been avoiding posting - but I can say that I have never felt so uncomfortable, unwelcome and rejected in my whole life. One day I'm sure I'll share the details.
However - I did get to pay my respects and say goodbye to a man that I loved, respected and missed so very much, for that I am greatful.
On a different note - Cruella had been living up to her name, are you surprised? I'm beyond caring to be honest and have adopted the 'leave her to it' attitude. It seems to be working for me!
Mr M is begining to realise the enormity of his deployment to Afghanistan. As the date hurtles towards us I can see that he is getting more and more concerned about himself and us. I am trying so hard to be supportive - I'm sure he thinks I'm being Blaze about the whole thing.
I've been keeping up to date with the blogs I follow, but apologise for not posting comments - Kami I am so truly happy for you honey, Becky I pray for you and Holly, Jenn are you crazy?
, Minnie you crack me up!!
I'm off to finish watching the Michael Jackson memorial.
Take care my friends - Mrs M x
Sunday, 14 June 2009
My Dad's parents have been the only grandparents I have ever known.
They live in Scotland, but this had never stopped them from being a major influence in my life. I adored my Granny & Papa and would spend all of the school holidays with them. When I passed my driving test I would collect them from the train station, when travelling by train became too much for them I would happily drive up to Scotland to collect them and take them home again. I would have done anything for them.
When I left my first husband I spent a few weeks with them, licking my wounds. They never pried, they never judged. I was so proud and believed that I was so lucky to have them as grandparents.
Eight years ago they celebrated their Golden wedding anniversary. My whole family were invited to the celebration. Mr M and I were invited, but the boys were not.
My parents and sisters have always treated the boys like all of the other children in our family, there has never been any differentiation between them and my nieces/nephews.
I didn't go to the party and it was the start of the end of my relationship with the only grandparents I have ever known.
Over the next few years, my grandparents would send Mr M & I birthday and Christmas gift, yet they refused to even acknowledge the boys on the christmas cards. Each year I would send them a thank you card telling them what I had spent the money or gift voucher on - I always made a point of spending it on a family item or day trip etc - and telling them how much we had all enjoyed it.
The final straw was in 2004, we were all at my parents' home for Easter. My Granny had bought each of my nieces and nephews an easter egg and handed them out after lunch - my boys got nothing & I was heart broken. They were 5 & 7 at the time and didn't understand why they didn't get an egg and their 'cousins' did.
I tried to talk to my grandparents to explain how hurt I was by their actions. I tried to explain that the boys had had no control over their parents splitting up and their dad meeting me. It all fell on deaf ears, they replied by saying that the boys had their own grandparents, therefore they would not take on that role. We ended the conversation with me saying that Mr M and the boys were my family and my priority, they ended by telling me I had made my choice.
They refused any further contact from me.
When Mr M and I Married in August 2004, my father pleaded with me to build bridges with them. I sent them some wedding photos and spoke to my granny on the phone.
My Dad promised that things would be different now that Mr M & I were married. At Christmas he & I got gifts, the boys didn't even get their names on the Christmas card! The following March I discovered I was pregnant with Lola & realised if I didn't get things sorted I would have a divide with the boys and her.
Without telling them I was pregnant, I wrote to my Grandparents and asked them to re-think the situation. I wasn't asking them to rush out and spend money on the boys, I was just asking them to accept them. They point blankly refused & we have had no contact since.
They have never seen the Lola or Dora and I'm not sure if they even know I have had them.
I have been excluded from all family occassions - cousin's weddings, christenings etc. I don't feel that I have done anything wrong (please tell me if I have) & always felt wrongly rejected, yet I never once thought ill of either of them.
I thought I had come to terms with the situation, yes my heart was broken, but I always believed they would come round and embrace my whole family.
Driving home from work last night around 10pm, I saluted a lone magpie, a strange 'mist' hovered just above the passenger seat in the car & I was convinced my heater was blowing out smoke (yet there was no smell).
Last night I had a most vivid dream - My Granny came to my home, she told me she had missed me and wanted us to make up. She then asked me to take photographs of my home as my papa would never get to see it & he would have been so proud of me.
My Papa collapsed last night around 10pm and died in the early hours of this morning -on my birthday.
I feel so numb.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
We reminded Cruella & Randall of the dates in December and February - again they informed us that they had no plans.
Well, on Sunday Randall informed Mr M that they had booked their summer holiday, camping in Cornwall, for the last week in August.
EXACTLY THE SAME WEEK WE HAVE BOOKED!!!!!!!
Sunday night Mr M was sat trying to rearrange our holiday, work around things in some way.
I've out my foot down - the boys will be told that they can either go on holiday with us or with Cruella & Co. We will explain that ours has been booked since last August, that Cruella knew these dates. If they select to come on holiday with us then all well and good. If the select to go with Cruella and Co, then Mr M & I will have a great time with the girls.
I will not change our plans yet again as a result of Cruella's selfish behaviour. We are not letting the boys down, by booking the same weeks as us I think it is Cruella that is letting them down.
The more cynical side of me thinks that there is a flip side to this - who wants to bet that if the boys select to go on holiday with us - Cruella will change her plans at the last minute. The 7 days camping trip will be replaced with a 'last minute' package deal for 4 to some 5 star hotel in Turkey?
Thursday, 28 May 2009
Today I had one of those days.
Today I swore a lot and ate lots of chocolate - neither made me feel better!
It all started when Lola decided to get up at 3am, she was wide awake and expected me to be too - why is it never Mr M that she shouts for?
Lola eventually went back to sleep at 5.30am, which meant I crawled back into bed and completely missed the alarm. I woke up at 6.30am.
This left me with 15 whole minutes to shower, dry my hair and get the girls up, washed and dressed before we had to leave for nursery. We managed it - just. I forfeited the grils' wash for a baby wipe - call me a bad mother, I am!
I'd just dropped the girls off at nursery - after an hour drive - when the loudest thud left me in no doubt that the suspension spring on the car had just sprung!
£120 lighter for the replacement spring, I get a call from nursery to pick Dora up. Her eye had swollen up and was all gunky. Policy is you have to remove the child from nursery until the symptoms have cleared.
I get home and realise I missed the delivery of my new *blackberry and now can'thave it delivered until next week!
To top it all off - Lola is refusing to go to bed and I'm clean out of decent wine (i'm contemplating raiding the vinegar jar!!)
So - I've had one of those days - how was your day?
Saturday, 23 May 2009
It's school holidays this week and Mr M and I actually have some time booked off to spend with the kids. It's also the bank holiday weekend, so there are loads of events on. We had planned to spend time with our family on Saturday, Friends on Sunday, Family on Monday then fun days Tuesday and Wednesday.
The best laid plans........
Last night Charlie sent a message to Mr M:
'Hi dad, got things planned with mum all week and going away. See you on the 31st'
So Mr M rang Cruella and had this conversation with her:
Mr M - Hello, I've just had a message from Charlie saying the boys wont be coming until the 31st. I'm a bit concerned as they are due to arrive on the 23rd and stay until the 27th - we have made plans.
Cruella - 'You always fucking do this'
Mr M - Do what? I'm just stating what Charlie has said in his message and I would like to know whats happening.
Cruella - Randall works in construction and only gets this week off. We've had things planned for ages.
Mr M - I understand that, but you could have told us sooner as we too have made plans
Cruella - I did fucking tell you - you just don't listen.
With that she slams the phone down and quite clearly the conversation is over!
Did I tell you how much I hate this person?
She did not tell us they were going away this week and Mr M certainly does not 'always' ring her up to challenge her plans and she has a mouth like a sewer!
So, it looks like Mr M & I are going to have lots of time to spend with Lola and Dora this week - Every cloud has a silver lining I suppose.
Sunday, 17 May 2009
If curiosity gets the better of you, email me & I will send you an Invite - at least I think thats how I have to do it!!
Saturday, 16 May 2009
Can one of you lovelies please try to access my other blog and leave feedback to let me know if you can access without an invite?
Today Mr M told her about his deployment to Afghanistan. He wanted her to know so that they could agree on when he would tell the boys. He also didn't want to risk her finding out from someone else - highly possible as they both work at the same hospital.
She called him a selfish *****, told him that he had no right going to serve Queen and Country. She continued her rant, stating that the boys would be angry with Mr M and would find it very hard to forgive him for abandoning them. WTF? Her closing statement was that the boys would not want to come to our house at all if Mr M wasn't there.
Talk about deluded. Does she not realise that Mr M should be commended for being a volunteer, that without the likes of Mr M, our service men would be placed at greater risk. Does she not realise that the boys are terribly proud of Mr M and all that he has achieved whilst being a full-time soldier and a volunteer reservist? Does she forget that all of the other times that DH has been away the boys have always chosen to come here as normal?
Well, Cruella. I've got news for you. I am so very proud of my husband, I think he is being incredibly selfless and brave to volunteer to go into a war zone. I will give him my support, even though it breaks my heart to think of where he will be going. I also know that in supporting him, I am a better person than you - you were behind him leaving the army in the first place, you gave him an ultimatum - who's the selfish one?
As for the boys..... I'd love them to keep coming as normal when Mr M goes away. However, I have a life and commitments and will not be an unpaid childminder for you. If the boys choose (yes, it will be there choice) to still come here - there home - then they will be welcomed with love and affection. If they choose not to come, then they will be told that the girls and I will always be here for them.
You see, fuck face, this is not about you, although I'm sure you will spend your time between now and the 22nd September trying to think of ways to play the victim - yet again.
Bring it on. Mr M and I are happy and secure in our relationship. We support each other 100% and we love all 4 of the kids. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that, so if you want to waste your energy trying - go ahead, make my day!!
Sunday, 10 May 2009
Apart from the small matter of an email address in my profile, with my REAL friggin name in. WTF??
So, Just Me :) - I thank you for taking the time to e mail me and pointing out this almighty clanger! If you want to look me up on Face.book feel free Lol!!
Oh, and I have been quiet for a while. I will fill you in on all the details very soon - I promise!
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Sunday, 26 April 2009
So there I was. At my parents house, with a car, computer and two suitcases.
The first few days were an absolute blur, I recall spending much of the time in tears, tears of relief and dispair. I do know that I never once thought about going back.
My mum was convinced that I was having an affair and immediately took sides with Mr H. She cooked for him, would go to the house to wash and clean for him, would demand my dad buy him a drink if they saw him in the pub....... Of course I was the guilty party. I had somehow managed to ruin the perfect marriage. My dad, he knew there was more to it, but like the day of my wedding - he never asked the question. Probably because he knew what the answer would be.
My in-laws would not even look at me, never mind talk to me. They thought I was selfish, conceited and above my station. How wrong they were and it broke my heart.
Yet I wouldn't tell them why I had left. Any of them. I couldn't.
I never returned to my lovely little house, not once did I step foot back in it. I continued to pay the mortgage and the bills. Mr H sold my car and I bought a new one. Eventually I signed the house over to Mr H - nice of me eh?
What choice did I have when he was threatening to burn down my parents' home, to hospitalise my dad, to tamper with my car brakes?
Sounds extreme, but I never once doubted that he would follow through with his threats (years later I was to discover that he is a man of his word).
From the age of 14 to 24 I had been with this man. My one and only boyfriend.
So what did I get?
Two suitcases, a computer and a fear of ever telling anyone what had truly happened.
Oh, and I did have a fantastic friend at work. He was amazingly supportive and just the most genuine person I had ever met - Mr M.
Friday, 17 April 2009
After spending the last couple of weeks preparing myself, doing lots of research into the post, the organisation etc. I am bemused to say that from start to finish the interview was a farce!
Firstly I had to give a ten minute presentation (as it was a clinical trainers post) the topic was not disclosed until the interview - but I expected it to be around learning styles, barriers to training, national directives etc.
No - I shit you not ladies. For a middle management post within the dear old NHS I had to give a presentation on making a cup of tea! WTF???
So being me, I ditched learning theory and presentation styles. I avoided backward and forward chaining and I presented my own little version of making a cup of tea;-
1) Hob v electric kettle (electric kettles cut out just before boiling point so a hob kettle wins for me every time)
2) Tea pot or not? Depends on how many cups and how close to pay day - two bags in a pot will easily make 4 cups. However I prefer the cup method
3) square, round or pyramid tea bags? Biggest Dilemma
4)Mug or cup? China mug for me, a cups not enough and the china mug keeps the tea hot!
5) Milk in before or after? Got to be after!
6) How long to leave it brewing? Long enough to raid the biscuit tin!
7) Sugar or not? No way!
I don't think they appreciated my sense of humour!
It went down hill from there.
They asked me if I had read the person spec for the job - HELLO?
Of course I flaming had. They then asked if I were writing a person spec for the job what would I put as essential skill - How about exactly the same as you had put seeing as it was you who devised the role?
In total I was asked 6 very bland questions, nothing to do with my skills, my experience, my knowledge base - zip!
The best part - oh yes it gets better - was when I got to ask them questions.
I had 5 prepared and was expecting to ask at least 3-4 of them. However as they failed to answer the first two (the tumble weed was out in full force) I didn't bother asking any more!
I laughed after coming out ( I was in a grand total of 30 minutes and 10 minutes of that was talking about making tea) Phoned Mr M and told him there was no way on earth I would accept the job - but this wouldn't be an issue as there was no way they would offer it to me!!
Needless to say - I didn't get the job!!
The feedback........ I am too focused on professional and organisational aspects and they just want someone to deliver a training programme!!!
On a band 7 - really???
I am so not gutted, yes it was closer to home and more money - but so un stimulating that I would have been bored in the first month I think.
The only unfortunate thing is that I can't even use today as interview experience - I have asked more challenging questions and expected more when interviewing for Band 5 Nurses!!
Back to the job site for me!!
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Today I had so much planned:-
6.30 - take the girls to nursery
7.30 - Go to the gym, do a 10K
9.00 - Hair cut & colour
Lunch - return home & select interview outfit (which consists of trying on every suit, trouser, skirt, jacket & shirt combination I own.
Some time later - tackle the shoe decision
Some time before 5.30 - go through all the research I've done for the job & practice some answers
5.30 - Pick the girls up
6.30 - girls in the bath, supper & bed
7.30 - Crack open the wine
Sometime before midnight - crawl into bed & pray the girls sleep through!
Unfortunately we failed at the first hurdle - both girls are running a fever, Dora has a viral rash & has been puking for England.
All bets are off, all plans are cancelled.
The joys of being a mum!
Saturday, 11 April 2009
Now I'm not so highly strung that I don't find fart stories funny, I even got asked to leave my Yoga class as I couldn't stop laughing at the old ladies creaking from their backsides every time they changed position - honestly, how anyone kept a straight face I'll never know!
My problem is that I have a huge problem with it - I don't do it within earshot or smelling distance of any other person. I just can't do it - end of story really!
Yesterday I had lunch with a friend - Ruth -who I've not been in contact with for years. We used to work together, but sadly lost touch after I went off to University and her marriage ended. We 'found' each other again through *facebook*.
So after we'd done the talking at 100mph trying to cram 10 years into 10 minutes, we started to talk about the good old days, the really funny times we'd had working together at an exclusive holiday village - where most of the guests earned more in 1 day than we did in 1 month - but I digress... - We laughed so hard about the 'How many cream cakes can you eat at once?' competition we used to have after the shops had closed. We laughed even harder when we talked about a mutual friend Dawn, who was so funny she should have been on the stage.
Then, to my horror, Ruth remembered the time that we were both working in the really expensive gift shop, the time that I FARTED. I have tried to block this memory, but I've got to admit that even I found it funny when Ruth was recounting it.
So here it is, I stare with you my most embarrassing memory....
Fridays were checkout days at the holiday village, Ruth and I were stood at the tills in the expensive gift shop. We had a queue of people waiting to pay for their ridiculously overpriced gifts.
Whilst serving a very handsome, if somewhat older chap, I bent under the till to get some tissue paper to wrap his vase. At the point of bending down I sneezed, which was quickly followed by the loudest fart I have ever produced.
I was mortified.
I maintained my half crouched, half bent over position. My face was so red I could have cooked a full English Breakfast on it.
Ruth was laughing so hard that she was snorting, but she eventually managed to regain her composure. Thankfully she accepted the tissue paper I was thrusting at her and she skillfully wrapped the vase and accepted the chaps money. She also worked through the queue of people with only a few sniggers escaping from her forced shut mouth.
I remained under the till until the queue of people had gone. Then we both laughed so hard that we were crying.
From that day on I have been scarred for life. I fear the creak that may sneak out when I least expect it. I'd rather suffer the achy stomach, the bloated feeling and the stinking car on my way home from work!!
I am a closet farter!
Thursday, 9 April 2009
This morning I took the girls to nursery for 7.30 and came home expecting a day at home - alone - to get caught up with some chores and some 'me' time. I don't have to pick the girls up until 5.30 so I figured a good day would be in store for me.
With the radio on, I was merrily mopping the kitchen floor when I heard the door bell go. I wasn't expecting anyone so thought it would be the post lady with a parcel - although 9.30 is way too early for our post.
Before I'd even made it to the front door, the door was open and there she stood - My toxic friend - in her full glory shouting "yoo-hoo, anybody home?"
I didn't have time to hide behind the sofa, or pretend to be out (although the car on the drive would have been a giveaway) - she'd walked right into my freaking house, what a cheek!
So my lovely chilled day at home has turned into a day of me entertaining her child, feeding them both and listening to her going on and on and on and on some more about her screwed up love life.
By 2.30 I could take no more and put my shoes on stating I had to go fetch the girls - she offered to stay at mine until I got back - WTF? It's going to be a 2hr round trip. I politely told her to sling her hook!
Am I so terrible for feeling like this towards someone who I once classed as a good friend?
I will be on guard from now on, the front door will be locked and the radio on low - next time I will take up my position behind the sofa!
My name is Mrs M and I have never been fitted for a bra, ever. I have spent all of my boob years wearing bra's that I think fit. When I'm not pregnant or breastfeeding it's a 34B every time.
However as I've lost quite a bit of weight and after having my boobs destroyed by two hungry babies, things are not quite the same in that department. Yes, they pointing slight downward and look a little like balloons that have been over inflated then had a bit of air let out - but hey, they are my boobs. My boobs that no longer quite fill the 34B's which sit lovingly in my drawer.
Last week Mr M & I were out shopping. It was a cold day and I was wearing a polo neck and thick jumper. I was also wearing the biggest pair of Bridget Jones knickers and the worst fitting bra I owned. Deciding that that would be the day that my boobs got their first proper fitting, I confidently walked into the bra and knicker shop and requested a bra fitting...
I had no idea that I would have to share a cubicle with the fitting lady, or that I would have to strip to the waist to be measured, or that I would have to try on hundreds (OK 5) bras so she could determine my actual size. Go on, laugh and no I am not incredibly stupid, no I did not expect a bra fitting via telepathy. I just didn't think it through - I've told you before I am impulsive!
After getting my head around the stripping to the waist concept I suddenly remembered what underwear I'd put on that morning. You can imagine my horror when I revealed knickers that were almost a boob tube and a bra that could have doubled as a hammock for a couple of small animals. I swear the bra fitting lady was smirking or maybe it was total disgust I saw fleeting across her face?
Anyway, the long and short of it is this:
:- Have your boobs measured and your bra fitted properly, too big and your boobs will be swinging around like a ferret in a sack, too small and you will instantly have four boobs.
:- If you are of an impulsive nature, go right to your underwear drawer and burn all of your old bra's and big knickers. Go - right now!!
Oh, and for the record, my boobs love their new surroundings. They are snug and pert in a very pretty 32A.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
I stood there, in our small kitchen with my chin touching the floor and heart beating so fast it sounded like a drum roll. Mr H was doing his best goldfish impression.
I'd said it, I'd actually spoken those words - out loud, with Mr H in the same room. His reaction made it clear that he'd heard me.
I'd made my decision, now I had to act on it. Yet I couldn't move, I don't know if it was fear or excitement that I was feeling, but boy were my feet glued to the spot. However, this changed the moment Mr H actually began to process what I had said - I calculated I had approximately 10 minutes to get the hell out of that house. Suddenly I had no problem moving or thinking!
Whilst Mr H did the little boy lost routine, I ran upstairs and threw my clothes into a suitcase. I packed another suitcase with books and personal items and disconnected my computer. I loaded it all into the car and drove the half mile to my parents' house. I parked the car and walked inside.
I sat there for 3 hours and said nothing about what had happened. I made small talk, chit chat, I talked an absolute load of crap, anything to avoid thinking or talking about what I had done.
You see, I had failed and I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents. I couldn't summons the courage to admit what had been happening.
As my dad was walking out of the front door (to go to the pub with Mr H) I called him back. I asked if I could stay the night, told him I'd left Mr H. I didn't offer any more information and he didn't ask any more questions. He took my car keys and emptied my car.
So there I was - a car, two suitcases and a computer.
Back in my old bedroom, with my mum and dad. No-one asking difficult questions, no-one telling me to go back to Mr H.
I slept so well that night. I'd finally done it, I'd left Mr H. I was stronger than I had ever thought I could possibly be. I'd made my choice and there was no going back.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
I am so excited, the job is one that I would really like - great hours, closer to home, nursery on site and an extra £6000 a year.
Wish me luck!
Letter arrived this morning (Saturday) - my interview is on 17th April, there will be 4 on the panel and I will have to give a ten minute unseen presentation. Am I worried? you can bet your arse I will be!!
Sunday, 29 March 2009
Have you ever seen the Young Guns films?
Yoohoo! I'll make you famous!
Stick with me, this is relevant. I love these films and much more I love Emilio Estevez (sp??)
I started a new job on 4th October 1999. I started at 09.00hrs and by 09.30hrs I had met Mr M. I walked onto that ward and there he was, my very own Emilio. I was hooked, he was married.
I had been married for just over two years and I had tried hard to make my marriage work. The more I tried, the less I achieved. Mr H chose to follow a different path than the one I wanted to walk on. He wanted to start a family, he wanted me to give up work, he wanted me to love, honour and obey him.
I just wanted to be loved.
We took several holidays to try to work things out, but seriously how do you stop a drinker from drinking when he doesn't want to stop. How do you change someone that doesn't think they need to change. How do you find the strength to walk away when you have no confidence and your last ounce of self esteem has been knocked from you?
I grew to love my new job and I got to know Mr M. He was my friend - no more - just friends. He was married and had two baby boys. His wife was tall, blonde and gorgeous. How could I compete?
In all honesty though I had no intention of competing. He was married, out of bounds, spoken for. I never once told Mr M that I liked him and I don't think I ever behaved in a way that would have let on either.
I spent the next 9 months focusing on my job and saving like mad. For every £ that Mr H spent on alcohol, I saved into an online account. By July 2000 I had saved quite a few thousand and my marriage was as bad as it had ever been. I was at rock bottom and had accepted that this was to be my life - there would be no way out.
Until I turned up for the 1st day of a two week violence and aggression course and guess who was there?
I spent two weeks rolling around on mats with Mr M (very nice), but more importantly I spent two weeks learning about myself. I was strong, both physically and mentally. I could handle the toughest of work situations, much better than many people. On the last day of the course I made a decision.
Driving home I changed my mind so many times, could I - couldn't I? Should I - shouldn't I?
I arrived home at the same time as Mr H returned from the pub. He asked what was for tea & my reply was.......
...... I don't know, I'm leaving you!
The girls were mesmerised the whole time, they both sat there watching for well over an hour! Lola was most upset when I took it to the window to let it fly outside - she thought we were going to keep it in the hutch with the guinea pigs!
I too had a lump in my throat when I let it go.
However, having a 3 year old and an 18 month old demanding we spend the next six hours camped out in the laundry waiting for the other two to hatch has taken the shine off this moment somewhat!
Monday, 23 March 2009
I felt really bad yesterday about what I'd done and turned it on myself - how would I feel if she were to do that to me (she probably has, soo many times!!). But being the better woman that I am I decided to come clean.
I told Charlie that his mum had text, but that as I'd picked the phone up to take it out to him, I'd somehow managed to delete the message - ok, don't be too hard on me, that's almost what happened!
I suggested he text her and explain that the message had been deleted before he'd had chance tp read it and ask her to re-send it. She did and this was his reply:-
'Mum - you said thankyou yesterday for your card and flowers, why did you have to send this text when we are at Dad's and Mrs M's?' Needless to say he has heard nothing from her since.
He then turned to me, read out the text she'd sent (which I'd obviously not read the previous day) and stated 'I think that was for your benefit Mrs M!'
I love that boy to bits - he is so switched on to Cruella's little games!
I also got a lovely card from the boys and some chocolates. Woody was so pleased with himself as he'd made me a card at school announcing 'I had to work twice a quick as everyone else Mrs M, I had two cards to make!'
That's my boys!
Saturday, 21 March 2009
We've always bought Cruella a Mothers day card and gift with the boys, until Randall complained that we didn't spend enough on her gift last year. So this year we've left it up to him to do.
Also in the past when Mothers Day has fallen on 'our' Sunday, we've always given Cruella the option of keeping the boys until after Lunch on Sunday (instead of us picking them up on the Saturday).This year I asked the boys what they wanted to do & they said they wanted to come here on the Saturday as normal!
So today I picked them up at 1pm and when I asked what they had been doing they said 'We had to go and get some flowers and a card for mum from the Spar shop'. (Classy!!)
We no sooner get home than Charlie gets a txt message from Cruella. Now all the kids were out the back when the message came through and when I saw the 'Text message from mum' I just couldn't resist.
My hands were taken over by this urge to read the message, I had no control over them - honest!
So Cruella was texting to say 'Thankyou for the lovely and unusual flowers, they must have been so expensive - arent I lucky to have two wonderful boys who love me, their mum, so much'
Expensive and unusual - from the Spar shop, really?
Boys who love you so very much? hhmmm, that's why they wanted to come here and not spend mothers day with you then?
So after vomiting and then laughing so much I nearly pee'd myself, I had no option but to delete the message.
Now, I know I shouldn't have read the message and I know I shouldn't have deleted it - but do I feel bad?
Not freaking likely!
Thursday, 19 March 2009
These past couple of weeks have been pretty tough and I have had a huge wake-up call. I had no idea that I was on such a destructive path, that I was so consumed with fear, guilt and anxiety - I wonder how I managed to function for so long.
I managed - no more, no less.
So now my life is in turmoil, I've accepted that I need help and that things are going to have to change around here. I now have to work out how!
Being a healthcare professional you would think that I would be extremely compassionate and understanding of mental health issues?
I am so dismissive of people who have 'trouble coping' or who have 'low mood' or who 'get anxious'. I mock and I judge - my usual piece of advice comes with a huge 'Get A Grip' banner. So imagine my horror when my Dr informed me I have acute Anxiety, with diffused associated depression - WTF??
I have a rational fear of being ill (like last summer), and when I recognise the symptoms, that my risk factors have increased due to work or home stress - I get into a state of anxiety. Rational thinking and common sense go out of the window, sleep becomes a distant memory and I turn into a miserable git.
No fun here because I might (one day) get ill again - see, no logic!
Last week I started night sedation to try to get some unbroken sleep - Mr M can not understand my need for this as he points out 'you are always asleep when I wake up during the night'. What he doesn't get is that I am in bed, trying not to solve the 'yet to occur' problems, trying not to have the 'might happen one day' conversations, trying to get back to freaking sleep! I can say that after two nights of unbroken and restful sleep I can see just how little sleep I have been getting and there is no wonder I look like shit most of the time.
Last week I also started anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication> I'll let you know when they start to kick-in.
I'm hopeful that alongside the counselling (I had session 2 on Tuesday and it wen't ok), the medication will help.
Hopefully within a few weeks things will start to look clearer again, I might start to function as a mum, wife, friend, nurse. I might actually start to enjoy my life again - who knows what a little bit of clarity might lead to?
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Your first Card is The moon - which is a major Arcana Card and very important - Moonlight changes things like the apperance of the landscape and often changes colour of the background too. This card signifies you were not seeing something clearly.As this is the first card this refers to the recent past. I read that this means you could have been in a confusing situation.
Ace of Cups is the second card - I like this card infact its one of the best in the deck and it does not surprise me that in your present you have a requirement to move on. This card signifies new beginnings - could be a new relationship (not always linked to the heart) new activities/ new interests or the birth of a child. This card is a joyful card and also can be the sign of abundance. The Ace of cups features a cup running over and so can be linked to money and goods. This card is about your present.
Third card is the wheel of Fortune and is about your future - The wheel of fortune also a very positive card - this card is about stating life consists of change. Difficult situations will change, you will have periods of peace and prosperity. This card shows you have left a phase of your life and moved on. Also it is the card of fate and shows that fate has a hand in your life.
This is the most positive of readings all cards were the right way up and thus why such a possitive reading. I hope its of interest to you and you can draw from it. I am interested that 2 cards seem to linked with prosperity - Lets hope its a lotto win. Its a very positive reading you have two major arcana cards and also an Ace. I would suggest that currently Karma is with you and I wish you all the luck your future seems bright.
Friday, 13 March 2009
Mum went like this:
Ended up in one of these:
And now has one of these:
Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older, and, there on television, she said it was 'exciting'.
Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day...like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first.The audience laughed so hard they cried.
She is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words!
Maya Angelou said this:
'I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.'
'I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.'
'I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.'
'I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'
'I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.'
'I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back..'
'I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.'
'I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.'
'I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.'
'I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.'
'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.'
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
The session was a bit bizarre to say the least and I'm not really sure how I feel about it all. I talked about loads of stuff :- my job, the kids, Mr M. All pretty mundane things really. These are things that I don't need help with. Or so I thought!
So after today's session I realise that I actually hate my job to the point that it is making me ill, I resent my step-sons for the quality time that they prevent me from spending with Lola and Dora and I find Mr M to be very selfish and not supportive. F*ck - I've got problems!
I didn't make any reference to being Mrs H and to be honest I after the revelation that my life as it is now sucks, I don't know if being Mrs H really is the problem.
Perhaps the water will be a little less murky after a few more sessions? I go back next week .
Monday, 9 March 2009
I decided that I wanted something to keep, something to remind me just how special my pregnancy with Lola was. I'm not particularly photogenic - usually look like I'm entering a gurning competition, need dental work or resuscitation! So having a photo gallery was out of the question! I decided to have a belly cast made, but freaked when I say the charges - many were upwards of £300. So being the thrifty Scotswoman I am, I decided to make my own. Here's the pictures:-
Sunday, 8 March 2009
But then something changed.
I don't know what possessed me to write the 'Will the real Mrs M please stand up?' posts. I don't know why after all these years I decided to finally open up the box that had been sealed shut with superglue.
I didn't realise it would hurt so fucking much.
Being on bed rest (I say that tongue in cheek) I have had lots of time to think about being Mrs H. I have also had lots of time to cry about being Mrs H. It sucks. 9 years after leaving my first husband I've taken off my mask. I've given up on the act. I have started to accept that the years that I was Mrs H were totally shitty. I have accepted that I have kept this to myself for reasons I don't yet know, but I do know I didn't want to deal with this. I do now.
In some strange way I'm glad that I've found myself in this position and I thank you for your words of wisdom, encouragement and support. I know that writing the next chapters on here are not going to be enough, but I will write them. I have also made an appointment with a counsellor - my first session is Tuesday. I'll be leaving my mask at home.
Friday, 6 March 2009
On the morning of my wedding I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I had spent the entire week trying to work out what I could do to cancel, postpone, vanish.... I knew it would all be ok in the end though. I knew my Dad, my Hero, would make things ok. He would offer me the same 'out' as he had my sister. No reason required - just an 'out'. It never came.
We waited for the wedding car, just Dad and I. he told me how proud he was of me. He told me how much he & Mum adored Mr H - the son they had never had. I cried as he walked me down the aisle. I cried as I saw the faces of my family and friends. I cried when I saw the 4 friends who had stayed at our home on the night of the stag party.
Yet everyone else was so very happy.
I made my vows in front of God and in saying each and every word I made a commitment to make this marriage work, for better or worse. How bloody true those words were.
So there it happened, I became Mrs H.
I worked at being Mrs H for 3 years. The events of the evening of the Stag party were repeated many times - each time I convinced myself it would be the last. Gone was the selfish, naive and conceited young lady and in her place was me, Mrs H. Too proud and ashamed to admit what was happening.
Then I met Mr M.
I am not a victim in this in any way, shape or form so forgive me it it seems I am claiming to be. All of my life I have made my own choices, granted they have not always been the right ones, but I've lived by the choices that I've made. Whilst not a victim per say, I was young, naive, conceited and utterly, utterly deluded.
7 days before getting married I made the choice to carry on, to tell no-one, to act like it had never happened. Funnily enough, Mr M made the very same choice. IOt was never mentioned between us - ever. One horrendous incident was not going to spoil everything. We all do things we later live to regret and I honestly believed that the events of that night would never be repeated.
Planning a huge wedding was a dream come true for me, I was able to indulge in lists, time lines and budgets. The little monster inside of me was able to pop up now and again and I could excuse it as wedding planning stress. People humoured me but to be honest I can say I must have been a nightmare to live and work with.
In the time it took me to plan my big day I fell in love with the idea of getting married and I fell out of love with the man I was marrying. As a couple we became more and more disjointed and towards our wedding day, getting married was the only thing we talked about. Apart from a huge circle of friends, we had nothing else in common. I put it all down to last minute jitters, but in my heart of hearts I knew we should not have been getting married.
I planned my own hen night (yes, I am so anal that I wouldn't let anyone else plan it) and Mr H planned his Stag party. I went for quiet and classy. He hired a whole pub and 3 private strippers - not quiet nor classy as I was to discover when he returned that night.
Mr H had never been stable mentally and at times people admitted to never knowing if he was joking or serious - I maintain to this day he was always deadly serious. Underneath the happy-go-lucky character that was/is Mr H lies something much darker, much more sinister. Something that had only appeared in fleeting moments prior to the night of his stag party.
Mr H and several friends returned from his stag party, the mood was eerily sedate. Whilst his friends were very intoxicated, Mr H appeared strangely sober. He was angry but trying not to show it. I made the mistake of asking about the evenings events. I made the mistake of ranting at him when his friends revealed there had been strippers at the party. I made the mistake of laughing at him when his friends revealed some of the details of the evening - as the 'stag' the strippers had teased and ridiculed Mr H in front of all of his friends, that's why he was angry.
We argued and his friends went to bed, obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable with the sitaution.
I'd always thought of myself as being the dominant one in our relationship. I'd always seen myself as better than Mr M. I was the academic one, I was the one bringing in the money, paying the bills, buying nice clothes, holidays. I felt very secure in my position of matriarch and if I'm honest I'd used this to keep Mr H in his place, to control him. At the time I didn't see it like that, I just thought I deserved a bit of respect and that he should show some gratitude. Remember that I was naive and conceited.
When we argued I had no hesitation in pointing out all of this toMr H and his shortcoming.
I guess that night I over stepped the mark, pushed all the wrong buttons.
That night everything changed.
I learned that Mr H was not the man I thought he was, nor was I the strong and independent woman I thought I was.
I was beaten and violated in ways that no person should ever be. Everything that was me and mine was taken from me that night, those few hours destroyed everything sacred and precious. In my own home, with the man I was about to marry, with four of his friends upstairs.
In the morning nothing was said, by anyone - yet each and every one of us knew what had happened.
Life carried on.
I was getting married in 7 days.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
After 3 months of agonising pain I was given the correct treatment. I had a mild outbreak again in November, I started treatment right away and within a week the symptoms were gone.
I've felt quite low for a week or two - both mentally and physically - then on Tuesday it hit. My joints are burning and feel fused. My shins hurt like the worst shin splints ever, getting up in the morning is a battle. If it wasn't so painful it would be funny watching me trying to change Dora or fasten Lola's shoes - imagine baby Giraffe trying to stand up for the first time.......
So I'm back on the steroids and Zinc bandages (oh, the smell) and hope that they are effective.
I hate feeling like this.
Oh and I forgot to mention that I'm on total bed rest - I love a doctor with a sense of humour!
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
So what part of this exactly don't you understand? The original order states 6pm, but you couldn't be bothered to feed the boys a cooked meal, so you concocted some story about having to take Randall's kids home and you didn't want to have to go out twice - they live around the corner from you for freaks sake!!
Anyway, being the decent and responsible parents that we are, we negotiated 4pm at your request. Every other week I cook our Sunday lunch at tea time and to be honest I'm sick of it being ruined waiting for you to get off your fat, lazy arse and bring the boys.
How about you try to get here at 4pm next week?
Monday, 2 March 2009
The last part of my previous post wasn't quite true - I didn't meet Mr H when I was 14. I met Mr H when I was 11, I became his girlfriend when I was 14.
Mr H loved school, just as much as I hated it. Where he failed, I excelled. He was loud, funny and popular, I wasn't. When he asked me to the youth club disco, I accepted.
Things hadn't been good at home, my parents were suffering from depression after my sisters had lied to them, stolen from them and their friends, refused all offers of help (this still makes me laugh. My parents had no money, yet they were prepared to take out a loan to pay for my sisters to go into a detox programme - which they refused) and ended up in prison.
My parents still functioned in the sense that they got up every morning, they went to work, they cooked meals. But they didn't seem interested in us as a family anymore. I guess they felt somehow responsible and vulnerable - perhaps they thought I would hurt them in the same way?
Anyway, given the situation at home and the fact that at 14 I still hadn't started puberty, was not pretty, did not have long blonde hair, did wear second hand clothes - I decided that Mr H (also 14) was a pretty good catch. The fact that he too was no oil painting (buck teeth and acne) and he didn't come from a rich family and was not the star of the school football team made him all the more appealing to me - I'd have no competition.
Funnily enough we were good together. Everyone loved Mr H and in time they loved me too. Don't get me wrong, we were never the golden couple, but In Mr H I had found a family again, his parents and sisters were amazing.
The years passed and I continued to be Mr H's Girlfriend. He left school at 16 - to become an apprentice milk man (if you knew him you would be laughing too). I continued with school, applied to university and was given an unconditional offer to study forensic science. I had ambition, I wanted a better future for myself than my parents had had - Mr H didn't. I had a choice to make and I made it. I left school 3 weeks before I was due to sit my A levels - My parents were devastated, I felt very grown up.
My first job was as an apprentice Butcher - I became vegetarian. I left the butchers and I became a carer. Mr H and I bought our first (and only) home when we were almost 19years old. We took a mortgage for £19K and committed to paying it back at £96 per month. He left his job the day we signed for our mortgage.
I applied to university to study Nursing and was accepted. I started the course a year later. Mr H still had no job, so I worked 4 jobs and studied on a full time course. Again, I made a conscious choice. I could have walked away, we could have managed without me working so much, but to be honest it suited me. I liked having a nice home, with brand new thing in - bought and paid for in full - I strove to reject everything about my childhood. I became a snob.
I only wore designer clothes, my shoes cost more than my dad earned in a week. We had 3 to 4 foreign holidays a year. I bought my food from Marks and Sparks and took greatest pleasure in rubbing my parents' nose in all of this at any given opportunity. You see I had made a choice - never to be like them. I didn't think that their lives and what they had achieved was worth anything, I only saw their failings. I now know that they had never failed, it was us, their children that they fought tooth and nail for, who failed them.
I wanted to do things right. I wanted a good job, a nice house, nice clothes, new car.... I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but more importantly I wanted them to envy everything I had achieved. Naive and conceited - not a good combination.
Mr H and I decided to get married - no big proposal, we just decided. Of course it would be the biggest affair our village had seen. I was 20yrs old and planning the biggest day of my life. There would be no expense spared. I didn't expect my parents to pay for my wedding - by this point they were paying for the huge debts racked up by my sisters - when they offered to pay 1/3 of the cost I let them, after adding a few extras. You can add selfish to my list of personality traits.
Not everything in the garden was rosy. Cracks had started to open up in my relationship with Mr H. He was a drinker and as he didn't have a job he had plenty of time to drink. Don't get me wrong, it kind of suited me this way. He had his life and I had mine. I was earning good money and as long as he had a few bob for a couple of pints he was happy. But with the drinking came the depression and the anger. As I was to discover on the night of his Stag party.
Your Blog Should Be Purple
You're an expressive, offbeat blogger who tends to write about anything and everything.
You tend to set blogging trends, and you're the most likely to write your own meme or survey.
You are a bit distant though. Your blog is all about you - not what anyone else has to say.
Saturday, 28 February 2009
Probably somewhere round about my 8th birthday I realised that my parents were not as financially stable as those of many of my friends. They couldn't afford to buy the pony that I would pray for every night. The very pony that I dreamt of so vividly that one morning I woke up so excited as I truly believed they had bought it for me - many of you may not realise just how much an 8 year old can cry in 24 hours!
What I didn't realise was that my father had joined one of the largest trade union disputes of the century, he didn't work for over a year.
We had no money.
I didn't understand the strange words that would fly between my parents, I didn't understand the embarrassment my mum faced when she couldn't pay the shopping bill at the checkout and had to select items to return. I didn't understand when my Dad cried the day he returned to work - defeated - I just thought he would miss being at home with us.
From my point of view it wasn't so bad, I got to pick loads of new clothes from the clothes mountain donated from all over the country. I got to go to the soup kitchen every day for my meals and even got free meals at school - although I had to deal with the stigma of having a yellow free meal disk, but hey, I've never been too proud!. My parents were still fantastic and to be honest I loved having Mum and Dad at home to play with, rather than Dad being at work 12 hours a day, every day.
I suppose the rest of these early years were none eventful, I never broke any bones, I never suffered from any childhood illnesses, my parents didn't divorce. I might not have had everything I ever wanted, but in all honesty I had everything I ever needed.
Then Mum got poorly.
She didn't want to be involved with us girls anymore, she didn't want to teach us to sew, bake, knit, cook. In fact I don't think she could stand to have us around at all. Dad didn't escape her wrath either - but like the gentleman he is he stuck by her.
We (my sisters much more than I) on the other hand suffered the verbal and physical abuse she threw at us daily. My mum was gone and in her place was someone I didn't like much. I didn't know that she was suffering from mental illness, that she didn't know what she was doing when she hit us, swore at us, dragged us round with our hair. Thankfully, my Dad, my Mr Fantastic soon realised that she needed help. Mum had a couple of hospital admissions, surgery and medication. She didn't go back to being the Mum I loved - but I now wonder if she did, but I just didn't let her.
I honestly think this is where it all went down hill. I don't blame Mum for anything - I did, for a long time but not now.
My eldest sister had a child when she was just 17 and he came to live with Mum, Dad and me, whilst both my sisters went into self destruct mode. For the next 5 years they lived a life of crime and drugs stuck in the vicious circle so familiar with so many families. I was left at home practically raising my nephew (whom I adore).
This was the time that I met Mr H - I was 14 years old and had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
Looking back on my posts, I honestly think I've come some way to achieving what I needed to do, so I guess now is the time to consider 'where do I go from here?'
I have been fortunate to have had quite a few of you stumble on my blog (whichever search term you used you are welcome) and many have stuck around - you guys keep me grounded with your comments.
I feel that before I can move forward I need to go back. I feel like there is so much about me that you don't know (much of it you wouldn't want to know) and I suppose in a form of cyber cleansing and in keeping with this free therapy, I should enlighten you, so here goes:-
I was born in 1976 and have two elder sisters. My eldest sister was born when my parents were just 15 and 16 yrs old - not the done thing in rural Scotland in 1971. My father remained at school, then college - he sat his final exam the night I was born, he missed my birth. He passed the exam with flying colours. My Mum is the youngest daughter in a family of 7 - her father fought in the D Day landings during the second world war -he was one of the lucky ones who returned from war, but died in 1972. I never met my Grandfather.
My Godfather is a priest, he was my fathers best friend and became disillusioned with the church - he has been a missionary in Africa since 1982. I don't know my Godmother. (I am thankful every day for my girls' Godparents - Trixi I love you hon)
I was early to walk (7 1/2 months) and was talking in sentences by 18 months. I started school aged 4 in a baby size 5G shoe (Dora wears the same size now at 17 months). My 'nickname' as a child was Titch because I was so small. I excelled at school, yet hated every minute of it.
My clothes were always pre-worn by my sisters or best friend Kelly- it was first up, best dressed in our house. I can't ever remember having new clothes bought for me (I'm sure I must have) but I can remember my Mum sitting up till all hours sewing and knitting. We were always clean and well presented. I was jealous that my friend had every material possession a girl could ever ask for. She was jealous that I had fantastic parents who loved us to bits and spent time with us - not knocking ten bells out of each other!
One of my earliest childhood memories is sitting with my Father, on his knee, both reading our library books, I think I must have been about 4. Every Monday we would walk to the library to exchange our books, I thought my Father was so fantastic as he was able to borrow 4 at a time. I loved the little manilla library token and was so very proud to have been trusted with it. I continued to go the the library with my father until I left home at 18, by which point I too had 4 little manilla tokens.
Every year my parents saved to take us on holiday, we had 7 days of living like kings - the rest of the month it was Egg and chips and hiding behind the sofa when the shop-a-cheque lady knocked on the door! My parents were strict, they had strong morals and principles. They both have an amazing sense of what is right and wrong - I feel blessed that they instilled these in me - although as an 8 year old I would much have rather have had the material possessions!
Part two to follow....
Sunday, 22 February 2009
- Human Milk Machine
- Woman Milk Machine
- "Huge" Breasts on Milk Machine
- Size 12 Arse
- Wife on Milk Machine
- Different size arses
- Milk Machine on Human
So there you have it!