Saturday 17 July 2010

The Last Post

This is the last post for this blog. My son turns 14 on Monday.

(Update: yes I did make the cake myself, yes he was mortally embarrassed, no he still hasn't forgiven me)


It's quite a scary prospect. I still feel about 14 myself most of the time. But I guess a lot has changed in the last 14 years. Sometimes I feel like me and my son have both kinda grown up together.  Other times I feel like I've just let him catch up with me. I'm glad that his big sister (AKA my daughter from another mother) has been a significant feature of the last 14 years though. Last night we went to see Eclipse together. I never understood the Twilight phenomena. I was aware of the 'feminist backlash.' But I liked Bella. I liked that she didn't have to do much to be a heroine. As a teen I would have much preferred her to identify with than Buffy. We can't all be kick ass superheros. It takes far too much energy. I guess I'll always be a shit feminist though. My daughter from another mother seemed content just to drool over Jacob for the 2 hours anyway, which I could totally relate to! I guess I really should try and stop lusting over 18 year old boys soon-before it gets me into trouble!

Maybe I'll do another blog some time. Typically, I've got loads coming up; camping with the fam (including the 4 gorgeous lil siblings), another week at the sea, festivals with friends, and one with the bro. And my mum has organised another one of her famous street parties for tomorrow. I'm sure it wont all run smoothly. Maybe I'll miss doing stuff and thinking 'this will make a funny blog post'.

Since returning from Belgium my son's been quite sweet and chatty (or as much as I can expect a sarcastic, angst-ridden, nearly 14 year old boy to be!).  It sounds like he had a great time in Ypres. At the school meeting the teacher went on about the bugler playing the Last Post in the evening, how magical and inspiring it was.

"What was the Last Post like Darling?" I asked

"Boring" he replied.

Oh, I was kinda hoping for a fitting quote to end this with but I guess that will have to do....



NB If you start suffering withdrawal symptoms you can find me here, promoting respect for young mums 
Whoop-yeah





Thursday 15 July 2010

Three's a crowd

What with holidays and work we seem to have covered every combination at home the last few weeks; the boyf away, the son away, the boyf and son away, me away, me and the son away. The only combination we haven't tried is leaving the son home alone but I don't think we're quite ready for that one. There was only one night when the boyf and the son were both away. The house felt calm and clean and completely under my control. Maybe it was just the right time of the month or maybe it was because the sun was shining but I'm keen to try that combination again.

While I was away this weekend I received some interesting texts: My son still texted me to ask what he could have for dinner! The boyf texted me on the Sunday night simply saying:

"Can't wait for you to get back. This house needs 3 people. X'

Well, I guess it's nice to feel needed.....Even if it is just to make up the numbers!

Wednesday 14 July 2010

Back to bed...

Ok. So even though it did appear that God was trying to sabotage my weekend in Barcelona I refused to let it bother me.  So my friend decides to break her foot a few days before I was due to arrive - no biggie. Wheel chairs are sexy right? So I get a call that my cash card has been stopped due to fraudulent activity - I have complete faith that a new one will arrive the same day I'm due to fly out. When that card appears and then disappears I totally don't even go mad at the boyf when he discovers it in the the outside bin hours later cos he accidently chucked it away despite insisting he hadn't touched it. When the guy I get stuck sitting next to on the plane turns out to be a sex pest who wont leave me alone I still giggle pathetically and think its kinda cute!

When my friend then falls over AFTER hopping up the steps from the metro station and screams out that she's broken her OTHER FOOT I simply laugh at her bad luck.


When I spend hours pushing her up a huge hill to some 'like really cool' bars and we find that the 3 steps at the top mean we have to turn around and go back down the hill I say hey, its fine, really, despite the fact my arms are about falling off and I've broken my favourite sandals.



 When Spain score and win the world cup while we're in the fussing elevator I appreciate that we still just about heard the celebrations even if we couldn't be part of it.



When the same the sex pest is again on the flight home I'm totally cool with spending the whole flight hiding from him and his brothers.

But when I get home late and have to be at work a few hours later and have shit loads to catch up on and the weather is crap and then I have to be up at 4.30am the next morning cos my son's on a school trip to Belguim and all he does in the morning is moan and whinge and I get home after thanklessly dropping him and a friend off at school at stupid o clock to find quite abusive messages from some ebay buying who is clearly mentaly unstable and I see my bed calling me and I think, you know what, who gives a fuss if I'm late for work today, well at that point I really didn't know if I'd ever be able to get up again....

Wednesday 7 July 2010

An education

Despite my son not wanting the attention I manged to sneak myself, my mum, my brother and D in to watch him at the school summer show. I was so proud. He was faultless as usual. But most importantly I think he enjoyed himself too. He sat in the pit while he wasn't performing so I could see the top of his head throughout the show. Just before the end, two teenage girls came on stage and did a dance routine to Beyonce's Single Ladies. I'm not sure where they came from. I'm pretty sure my son still attends an all boys school and they haven't taken on any scout type equality bill that lets random girls in. That said, they were bloody brilliant. I fear I may have whooped even louder for them than I did for my own son. Other parent's frowned and tutted: "What are they doing here?' "This doesn't go with the rest of the show!" But as I saw my son and his friends staring up from their pit with, I'm sure, the perfect view I couldn't help but agree with one of the dads who simply replied 'I think its just a bit of a treat for the boys". Their faces said it all.....

Tuesday 6 July 2010

Stubburn Genius

My son is lovely, really he is, but he can be very stubburn. I'm sure he must get this trait from his father. His developmental review age 3 in his Red Book clearly states "Unable to do any tasks - Uncooperative". That's my son - if he think someone else wants him to do it, he will just refuse... but that doesn't mean he can't do it. Far from it.

This week my son was asked to perform in the school's Summer Production, on the piano. He loves playing the piano. He plays every day. But someone else had asked him to do it. He also knew I wanted him to do it...

"I'm not doing it," he simply said.

Right. Time for action.

I rang the school, "Look, I really want him to but I'm not sure that I can persuade him."
His teacher totally understood. "Ok, we really want him to as well, I''ll have a word, I'll tell him he's already on the programme."
"Brilliant," I said
But the next morning he still wasn't sure. I rang the school again. I feel like a pushy mother. The receptionist must be sick of me. I'm already slightly concerned that I have a reputation for complaining if my son isn't in the top set - while it is true I have twice 'questioned' it, once it was my mistake because the classes were actually mixed ability (Why call it group 4 then??? What was I meant to think??) and once it was a fussing ADMIN ERROR!! (You moved my son down a set cos of an ADMIN ERROR-are you completely incompetent!!???). Anyway its nice to ring and speak to teacher who is on my side.
"Right - I've just told him we can't change the programme, I hope you don't mind - its not true but its just we really want him to play."
No totally - this is exactly what I want you to do.

So tomorrow my son is playing piano in the school Summer Production... I think he'll love it...or at least I really really really hope he will.....but all I can think of is that extremely clearly written 'UNCOOPERATIVE' in big letters across his Red Book....

Man-child

So, I've pretty much accepted that for the next few years I can kiss goodbye to family outings (except maybe in other cities where we wont be recognised) as I am officially the most embarrassing person to be around. Not that this should be taken personally though I'm told. "Noone wants to be seen with their Mum," my son keeps assuring me. My job has been reduced to on-call taxi driver as long as I don't talk too much or park too close to where I might be seen.

So in an effort to give my milk bottle legs at least an opportunity to breathe I have taken to adopting people who I can treat like my children on family type trips. On Saturday I took my 17 year old daughter from another mother to the Carnival. Most of time seemed to be spent either following or running away from 17 year old boys. It was hard to keep up. I was sure we were running away from the same ones we were following. Not wanting to get too involved, in the end I left her to it..... Today I took my brother out to a country park. The park wasn't as good as we thought it would be, 'I wish we'd gone to the castle now' he said as we arrived after the 45 minute drive. But the children's play area did look fantastic... so we dug sand, swung on the baby swings, skated, slid, hung from monkey bars and bounced away. As we were bouncing madly on the see saw type contraption we noticed a ginger haired boy glaring at us...

"How old are you?" he asked my brother.
"28" he replied.
He looked at us both....
"Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"
I was kinda speechless.
He looked at me with disgust...
"You should be ashamed of yourselves" he said...

This boy, it turned out, was 6 YEARS OLD!


There was nothing I could say to this strange oversized extremely well spoken man-child.

Suddenly bouncing up and down didn't quite feel the same. I muttured something about there not being an age limit (there wasn't-we had even checked) as we sheepishly left the children's play area and wandered down to Waterstones where I browsed through ADULT books (not that kind) and my brother looked at maps till we got chucked out. My legs remain as white as milk bottles.

Ok, now does anyone have a REAL child I can borrow for next time the suns out and I have some free time?


(NB Ignore the t.shirt! My brother quite likes wildlife and I just dont have the heart (or rather I wimped out) to explain to him (or my prudish mother who bought it) that 'I love beaver' has two, quite different, meanings!)

Friday 2 July 2010

Coming Clean

So, I turn up at the door with a bottle of vodka in a co-op bag as instructed. I make my way to the garden which is full of people. I don't know anyone except the birthday girl. I thought it was a family party but it appears relatives weren't invited. Everyone is really friendly though and soon I'm chatting away, guys are flirting, one guy insists on draping his arms around my neck, a cute lesbian is accused of flirting with me too which she doesn't deny. They show off to me about things they've seen and done, typical stuff. They talk about relationships and UCAS forms and getting drunk. Then I ask one of them his age, and then he asks me....

Erm.... how old do u think? I say
19? 20? They all say....

And then I have to come clean, this has been nice and everything, but it cant last.

I eventually have to come clean that I am a 31 year old at a 17 year old's birthday party.

They don't believe me anyway. The lesbian looks confused. Then intrigued. "But you laughed at my jokes, you can't be thirty!" a floppy haired boy insists. When I decide to go home they beg me to stay, but I find the oldest person there (19) and leave him in charge. It seemed likely he'd do a better job than me.

Behave yourselves Kids I say as I leave....

Thank God I wasn't drinking. This could have ended quite differently....

Wednesday 30 June 2010

Go go go

So I thought I'd be feeling a bit emotional sending my son off on his school trip but the hour that I did see him this morning between 5.45 and 6.45 all he did was moan!  Everything I'd packed was wrong, his jeans had shrunk, his t-shirt was too big, he didn't want to take sandwiches, he would die without a bottle of Lucozade. I bit my lip. He unpacked and re-packed and it took a good 10 minutes persuading him that yes he did need to take a towel because yes he was expected to have a wash at some point during the 3 days away. He tested my patience but I just about manged to stay calm. As he got out the car at the school he said to me "you're a very angry person", as he practically skipped to catch up with his friends...

Right that's it

ROOM TO LET
available immediately 

Thursday 24 June 2010

Stay with me baby

In approx. four years time my child could be leaving home, he may no longer sleep here every night and I may no longer see him every day. When people ask if I would ever have more children I say why would I start again? The sooner it gets to the time when I will be child free the sillier having another child seems. In four years I could be free. I could go anywhere, do anything. Only four years; its like a countdown...

My son is on a school trip for 3 days next week and I have reluctantly agreed to let him stay over at not one but two sleep overs this weekend. I don't want him to. At first I refused. He acted like his life depending on attending both sleepovers. He told me he'd been revising really hard and after his exam he thought he deserved it. He was right. I thought that he deserved it too but I didn't say this because I didn't want him to go. I didn't want him to go because I wanted him to say with me. I didn't want to not see him for 5 nights out of one week. But I couldn't say this either. I couldn't tell him I wanted him to stay cos I'd miss him. I want him to be independent, not worry about him mum sitting at home feeling lonely. I could go out but I don't feel like it. I miss my boy and he's not even gone anywhere yet. Oh god, what am I gonna be like when he leaves home? If I can't cope with 5 days how will I cope with forever? How will I not be embarrassingly clingy and desperate? I don't want to be free any more. I want my baby here and I don't want another baby, I want MY baby, the baby I've grown up with for the last 14 years, here with me forever!!

Ok, I have approx. four years to deal with this before I ruin my son's life and any potential he has to be a well-rounded normal human being! Maybe I'll feel more stable when I'm off my period....

Wednesday 23 June 2010

Multi-tasking

This is my son doing last minute maths revision....



Who said boys couldn't multi-task???

Monday 21 June 2010

Things that make me happy

Mint Chocolate Baileys, my son actually doing revision, a hoovered car at last, cooking a meal that my boyf actually liked for once (although he did still complain that the potatoes weren't cooked), Mint Chocolate Baileys, my son secretly actually enjoying doing revision, the fact that I also secretly enjoyed helping my son with revision, Mint Chocolate Baileys, deleting sex pests on facebook, Mint Baileys, catching a glimpse of my lillies in the kitchen as I go up to bed reminding me that it's the little things that make you happy.



Tuesday 15 June 2010

The British

My son is reading a poem called by The British by Benjamin Zapheniah to be filmed and shown at our local theatre next week. It's a poem about diversity and equality.

I love where we live because of it's diversity. I love the school my son attends because of it's diversity. 'What year did racism end?' my son once asked me. Since he was a baby strangers would come up and say how beautiful he is, teenage boys would say that they wanted their baby to look like him, his stunning blue eyes are a constant source of amazement, from around age 6 groups of black boys would nod at him as they passed, his paler sister looks at him with envy...

But it's my job to also let him know he's intelligent, talented and can do anything he wants if he works hard at it. English has never been his strongest subject. Like me he has little patience for rules that don't always appear to follow logic. But being picked to read this poem which will be shown to hundreds of people has sparked a new interest and confidence and pride that I hope continues.

My beautiful brave baby boy.

That Lesbian Single Parent Thing

Me: Oh, I'm going to that thing tomorrow.
Boyf: What thing?
Me: You know - that thing I told you about.
Boyf: What? That lesbian single parent thing?


Monday 14 June 2010

Step families

The boyf's BFF has just split up with his girlf. They've lived together for a while and she has two kids from a previous relationship, who are now teenagers. Apparently he's left cos she wouldn't back him up when he tried to set rules for kids.
"Is he gonna still see the kids?" I asked they boyf.
"Nah, they never really liked him anyway," was his reply.

There are so many things I want to say I don't know where to start. With (unofficial) step families I guess things are always less certain. It's hard to forget that sometimes. I don't think my boyfs about to walk out on us or anything. He's not a complete fool-despite all the crap I give him he knows he's on to a good thing! I do sometimes wonder what would happen if I wasn't here though, how strong their bond would be...

Sometimes it's like having two kids the way they bicker. I often get called in to resolve pointless disagreements. And then he has the nerve to suggest to me that I'm too soft because I treated my son to a bit of retail therapy after his stressful guitar exam this weekend, like I can't decide for myself when to treat my own child (even if I did get a bit carried away)!  Often I wonder if this is how step families are meant to be!

So today I asked if my son would feel more or less (I didn't want to influence the response) secure if me and D (the boyf) were married.
"Less" he said straight away, "it would be like Chandler in Friends"
"Huh? You're worried about having a transvestite as a father?"
He gave me that look that means I've said something inappropriate and out of context - I get it a lot these days.
"No, like Chandler only wanted to have an affair when he was scared of the commitment of marriage"- Oh right, I'm proud that my son hasn't been indoctrinated by the Tories vision of the perfect family, even if his main point of reference is Chandler from Friends.

Anyway, we somehow got onto the subject of what would happen if I died.
"I'd want to stay with D" my son said straight away.
Then D started pestering me again that I needed to get something sorted out that meant he would have responsibility if, y'know, anything were to happen. I know, I know. Or maybe I didn't know. They then started planning their lives together after my death....
"We'd have a better quality of life cos there'd be no mortgage to pay...", my son worked out.
"...So we'd have more to pay for strippers and dirty movies and lottery tickets" D added.
Even though I should have been offended (especially the lottery thing-D knows how much that winds me up) it's nice to hear that after almost 9 years they don't just tolerate each other cos they have to. It made me smile inside.

"I wouldn't want to live with anyone else," my son reiterated "...cos then I'd lose my x-box live and I'd have to level up again..."

Hmmm. Like step father like step son....





Thursday 10 June 2010

Thirty (and a bit)

Today I turned 31 so really this blog title is now a lie. I guess that means I should stop but I'm slightly concerned about ending this blogging lark with a post about the psychological damage I do to my son. I'm not quite sure how I would like it to end but I'm thinking I may continue just until my son is 14 next month and hopefully by then I can try and sneak in a few responsible posts without it looking like my blogs been sabotaged by a proper grown up!

Anyway, turning 31 is a bit depressing. The day has been spent on a shitty what-bollox-can-I-learn-about myself course where, during a 'challenge', I accused the course leader of playing mind games and tricking us all, to the point where every time he tried to speak I shouted "Don't listen to him-he's lying. He's trying to cause conflict," only to realize later that it wasn't a trick. We were just crap at the challenge. It was kinda embarrassing. I really don't know what came over me. What have a learnt about myself? That I watch too much Big Brother maybe.....

Anyway I'm gonna try and put today behind me. Tomorrow I will be super grown up and mature and sensible.....

Wednesday 9 June 2010

Teenage equivalent of the toddler tantrum in a supermarket trick

I do make myself laugh sometimes*... Y'know the advert where the mum has the tantrum in the supermarket? Today I tried out the teenage equivalent. As me and the son were walking to Subway (get over it-I work full time and cooking is just plain boring:FACT) he started his usual 'do you have to walk with me' whinging. So before he could get into full swing and declare me the most embarrassing person in the universe I got in there first and suggested that he walked a good distance in front of me so people wouldn't know we were together. When he crossed the road assuming I would follow, I chose not to. I hid my face with my hand and pretended I didn't know him.
"Mum! Mum!" he called.
"Ssssshh," I hissed, "I don't know you".
"MUUUUMM!!!" he shouts "Stop it!!".
"But you're embarrassing" I hissed again, now walking at a quicker pace as he attempts to keep up with me.
He couldn't work out how to deal with this.....like I think it actually made his head hurt. It was just like the advert!


I eventually stopped, before the guilt kicked in, and we walked all the way there and back together chatting and laughing and he didn't once ask me to walk in front of him!
Result!

*The boyf keeps reminding me we wont be laughing when we're paying for the therapy to undo all the damage we've done!

Mumsy: A lady who looks like a mother

So, one of my best friends, Nat Pat Fat Cat, has just found out she's preggers. About 5 weeks ago she posted on facebook: "I've just done something I may regret in 9 months time...."

No one was quite sure how seriously to take this.

The next status update was that she felt sick but blamed it on eating a mars bar followed by an omelet.

Then a few weeks later she posted on my wall that she had been 'impregnated' and she was coming up to visit me! How exciting!!

So we met for lunch. Having been a mother for 13 years now she rightly thought I would have some wise words for her, parenting tips, do's and dont's, what you need to buy and what you dont, etc,  etc....

I was in my element.

She looked bored.

Eventually she said what was really on her mind, the real reason she'd chosen to ask my advice; "The thing is I'm really scared of... y'know....not being me any more, y'know, like I just really don't want to be MUMSY.....I mean how do you manage to not be mumsy?'

So, apparently, it turns out that I am the only 'non-mumsy mum' she knows. This is what she wanted my advice on. This is my greatest success. Whenever she stresses about becoming mumsy to her boyf he always remind her of me - the one (and only) non-mumsy mum they know.

I didn't know how to take this....I know she meant it as a compliment but I can't help but see it a personal failing, like a missed transitional period where I was meant to go from self obsessed teen to mother-earth-with-a-pinny-and-wide-hips-mumsy. I mean, I've been doing this mothering gig for long enough now that I'd kinda hoped some mumsy-ness would show through.

"MY NAMES MUM!!" I shout at my son when he calls me by my first name. But maybe its not him I'm trying to convince! Even after 13 years of signing myself off as 'Mum' in cards and texts, I still feel a bit like an impostor when I look at it!


Someone today said I looked like Avril Lavigne, bloody Avril Lavigne for gods sake, what is she, like 12?!!?? Admittedly I was aiming for the early 90's grunge look after some unconfident hairdresser went and gave me a 'Rachel cut' and I wasn't quite sure which way to go with it but at 30 I should probably be aiming to at least look like an adult. Not just an adult, I wanna be MUMSY GODDAM IT!!!

....Cos I know the second Nat Pat Fat Cat produces this little human she is gonna be so so mumsy and she won't even care.....in fact she'll love it-I know she will-I've seen it happen so many times! And I'll be left looking like my son's big sister trying to be bloody Avril Lavigne!

Sunday 6 June 2010

OMG MY CAT CAN TALK!

Ok, I've always had like a feeling that my cat thinks it's human. Like, if I lived with a family of cats, I'd probably think I was a cat too so it makes sense. Anyway, I often have conversations with the cat that go like this:

'mieeeooow'
'look I don't understand what you're saying-what does that mean?'
'mieeeow'
'ok, now if you want to communicate you have to use proper words, I think you're just being lazy'
'mieeeow'
'nope, keep trying'

Then she will mope off in a huff...

Anyway this morning I was on gogglemaps and the cat was being annoying cos she wanted feeding and she kept walking over the keyboard and shit and then suddenly this appeared on the screen:



Like my cat actually typed it .....

My cat said "oiiiiiiiiiiii" to me.....My cat communicated with words!!!

OMG I knew it-I looked at her and she was staring back at me smuggly as if to say 'happy now?'

OMG I opened up a pages doc thinking we could maybe get a conversation going.



 'mmmmmmmmm' she typed


Oh right yeah food... Ok I get it....

Maybe next we could discuss political views or feminism or something but one step at a time I guess...

Thursday 3 June 2010

The rules

So, I went to see SATC2 with 3 old friends on Friday (yes, we did discuss who was which character!) (yes, I did fight to be Samantha!). Anyway, I totally loved it. So much so that I'm seeing it again! And I also love that it got such bad reviews! I think they're hilarious - I mean, if you're not a SATC fan why would you even think you would like this film? It's totally shallow and materialistic and cringey and fabulous! I read a review that slammed it for being too far fetched and out of touch with the real world."What women watching this in the cinema would seriously go home and suggest to her partner that they make up their own relationship rules and have two days a week apart' one reviewer hissed....

The next morning:
'Darling, Carrie Bradshaw said you should make up your own rules of your relationship.  What do you think are the rules of our relationship?'

'First rule of our rules is not to talk about the rules....

.....Second rule of our rules is not to talk about rule number 1'


Hmmmm, Not the answer I was looking for. My boyf is not quite as intuitive as Mr Big.

The thing is I could totally relate to Carrie (aka the bitch girlfriend from hell). I didn't choose the most expensive wallpaper in the world so that my boyf could sit playing the xbox in front of it, or lie on the sofa falling asleep with his shoes on in front of it. It like totally ruins the whole image!


The boyf worked away from home last night for the first time ever and I'm not ashamed to admit that I totally loved it. I loved that the mess was my mess. I loved that the bed was all mine. I loved the lack of x-box noise. I loved that I was able to accidentally melt clingfilm into my home made pizza and no one was there to witness it (Ok, maybe this is a different issue). But is this really so bad? Surely if it works it works, right? My dad works away from home two days every week and I'm pretty sure he looks forward to those two days all week! Is it really so far fetched to need your own space? (said in the style of Carrie Bradshaw sitting at her laptop in underwear)

Now, how do I manage to squeeze this into the rules that we don't speak of as a regular thing without the boyfriend noticing.....

Sunday 30 May 2010

Walking on water

...isn't the most dignified of activities...



....although I felt surprisingly at ease being in a bubble.

Monday 24 May 2010

Motivate, Lead and Inspire

So I had my personal development review at work the other week. It went ok, no it went well but obviously I'm gonna pick up on the bad bits...I'm good friends with my manager so it was kinda weird having a formal meeting with her...I don't do formal well. I'm not a formal person.

'The only little thing is that sometimes it seems like you're not that sure of what you're saying.'

'Well that would be when I'm not then.'

'Ok, well, maybe you could try just acting like you are?'

'That's not really me.'

'No....well you could try being a bit more......erm...'

'Professional?'

'er...'

Yep ok I get it.

I'm not a blagger, I hate blaggers, I hate being fake but I need to justify being paid the millions that I am so I agreed to go on a shitty course. My 31st birthday will be spent leaning how to 'Motive, Lead and Inspire'. Bloody great!

The thing is I only really speak up when I feel strongly about something....otherwise I don't really see the point.....

Today I went to the Parent's Consultation evening at my son's school. Usually I just sit and listen but the group was smaller today so I actually said something....Not only did I say something but I actually disagreed with someone, and when that parent, who was also a teacher and so thought he bloody knew everything, carried on going on about how education wasn't about enjoyment I bloody well told him that a good teacher is one that makes learning enjoyable and inspires pupils to want to learn and then when he said that you didn't go to work to have fun I said that I did think it was important that the boys enjoyed school (its a boys school, I wasn't being sexist!) and then all the other parents joined in too and said that school wasn't a bloody job and education was so much more than just attainment, it was about developing into well rounded happy human beings and when mardy arse said that he didn't teach to be liked I thought its a good bloody job you miserable fusser and I looked round and I could tell that everyone in the room was thinking the same as me.

So you basically turned everyone against him, the boyfriend said when I relayed the story to him.
Yuh-huh, I replied proudly.

I wonder if that counts as motivating, leading and inspiring?

Sunday 23 May 2010

Summer evenings

Summer Evenings
Family gone home
BBQ food leftovers
Wishing I had some Pimm's..



Saturday 22 May 2010

Are elves short or tall?*

  *NB I have the feeling (and lack of comments would indicate!) that this is one of those private jokes that only me and boyfriend find remotely funny but WTH!

Last New Year we were invited to a fancy dress party and we thought it would be cute (?) if we went as Santa (boyf) Mrs Santa (me) and an elf (son). My son seemed surprisingly keen . So I went and got us some costumes in the post-christmas sale. Except when I showed them to my son he was mortified with the 'santas little helper' elf costume I'd chosen for him. 'I WANTED TO BE A TALL ELF!' he shouted at me distraught, then locked himself in his room. Unfortunately me and the boyf couldn't help but find this quite amusing. My son, taking after me, is small for his age. Therefore a costume was not gonna make him any taller! If he was gonna be an elf it was pretty conclusive that he would have to be a small elf! My son did not share our amusement.

Needless to say the costumes never got worn....

Anyway the subject of 'tall elves' came up again today (ok I admit I brought it up!). My son is still convinced that elves are tall. I really don't know why he feels so strongly about it! We ended up having a huge tickle fight on the sofa because I simply couldn't stop laughing, more at remembering his reaction to the christmas 'small elf' costume than anything else. Realizing that even sitting on a  cushion on my head wouldn't stop me laughing he gave up! I went up to apologize to him later and found him reading this..


Turns out elves are just normal size. It's simply a misinformed stereotype that associates them with small people.

Another interesting fact is that elves are not real of course - that would just be silly. Although spending all evening discussing their size is perfectly justified.

P.s. I'm glad I have my son back though after a few weeks of teen angst. It was getting kinda boring treading on egg shells!

Something constructive

Since I've stopped studying I've been having a few issues with feeling that my free time is not being spent constructively. So today with the sun out and my son off playing tennis with friends all day I managed to do 2 constructive things

1. I have found a use for my £5 pearls from Primark



2. I have replanted my tomato seeds and I am determined not to let them die.



I really do need to find myself a hobby or something though as there's only so many times a day I can go and check that my tomatoes are still ok and as much as I would love to decorate the house with pearls, even at £5 a go I can't really afford it (and not sure the boyf would be impressed). What do people do when their children no longer need them in a 'time capacity' sense?

Wednesday 19 May 2010

Free Yard

So, I've being going over it in my head and have finally justified it to myself that I should definitely go and visit Wendi in Barcelona for a long weekend. Just me. Since I was 16 I've done 4 child-free long weekends away. The experience has been variable:

1.
when: 1997
where: tacky caravan holiday park in Great Yarmouth
who with: the ex
what I can remember: either crying or feeling like I wanted to cry and promising never to leave my baby again

2.
when: 1999
where: Glastonbury
who with: group of friends
what I can remember: just sleeping-like the whole time!

3.
when: 2004
where: Finland
who with: Wendi
what I can remember: naked sauna

4.
when: 2005
where: Amsterdam
who with: a hen party
what I can remember: sorry, 'what goes on tour stays on tour'!

So this time the plan is no nakedness, no strippers, no horrible boyfriend and aim to stay awake and it should all be fine....

AWOL

So anyway, you may have noticed that I haven't blogged anything about the cute but funny things my son says lately. Well, I'm afraid to tell you that there is a good reason for this. You see something terrible has happened. I guess it was inevitable that it would happen at some point but it still doesn't make it any easier to digest. Maybe I should consider myself lucky that it took this long.  But however prepared you think you are, you can never really be prepared for the change. See, I haven't written about cute funny things lately because they simply haven't happened.....

....My son has turned into a Teenager.

A proper sulky, mardy, angst-ridden, 'the whole world is against me' Teenager.

It all started a few weeks ago when I figured it would be cheaper to get him a £10 a month phone contract with unlimited texts. Little did I know this would result in him losing all form of verbal communication - well at home anyway. My lovely sweet chatty boy has been replaced with a silent blob of testosterone. I'm trying to be cool about it. Really I am. Occasionally he'll forget, like when he woke up in the night thinking his radio was was talking to him (!), and I'll be treated to a little reminder of my lost boy. But these moments are rare. Thank god for structured activities or I don't know how I'd get him out of his room. As for homework, don't even go there!

Now....how long does this stage last for again?

Topsy Turvy


Imagine if every child had like loads of fathers. In fact they had so many that they could pick and chose which ones they wanted to see. Maybe it would even become a hassle to see them all so they would only see the ones that were easier to visit. Maybe the ones who lived nearest, or the ones who didn't notice how selfish the child was. But imagine if those fathers were only allowed to have ONE child, so if that child decided they weren't worth seeing they couldn't help but feel abandoned. Even though those fathers might try and get on with their lives they always know that their one biological child is out there, seeing their other fathers, maybe sporadically, maybe at times begrudgingly, but they'd always wonder how they picked their favourites. Maybe those children could forget about a few of the fathers but the fathers could never forget about their child, because they only have the one. They just have to live with it because they have no choice.


Now imagine that those selfish children are actually adults, and those brave adults are just children.....

Monday 17 May 2010

Letters of apology

Dear Mr DJ
I'm sorry that I kept touching your cd's after you told me not to.
I'm sorry that you felt you had to slam down the lid of your cd box quite so aggressively.
I'm sorry for then continuously blowing feathers at your face - I guess I thought you'd find it funny.
I'm sorry that when the birthday girl pleaded with you to play some more and you refused everybody moaned at you for being a rubbish DJ.
For what it's worth, when you pointed at me and shouted that it was my fault and that you just wanted to go to home to your wife that had cancer, I did feel kinda bad....


Dear Birthday Girl
Sorry for ruining the end of your party...

snog, marry, avoid?

Due to being a helpless flirt (as in I really can't help it), and I'm under no illusion that there is any other reason, when I go out I tend to get a fair few guys coming on to me. I'm always honest though. I always tell them 'I have a long-term boyfriend....and I have a thirteen year old son'...It's funny that it's that last statement that always seems to be the fool-proof line that gets rid of them! It's like they hear those words and they suddenly wanna re-wind everything they've been saying. I see their whole body kinda sink back as they try to figure out how they can take their chat up lines back and get the hell away! I mean, imagine if I was single on the pull. Would I really have to pretend my son didn't exist to get any interest? It's like a long term boyfriend they can deal with (??) but a teenage son and suddenly you're the most undesirable person in the room. Anyway, I just think it's not right so I feel its my duty in these circumstances to then make it my mission to be as sexy as humanly possible till they are practically begging me to go home with them! Of course, I tell them where to go (cheeky fussers!) but maybe next time they meet a girl with a child they'll think twice before writing them off. See, I'm doing it for all you young single mummies out there....although, to be honest, you can probably do much better than the type of guys I tend to attract!



Turning the bedroom upside-down trying to find something to wear to a 'Gangster and Molls' party.

Friday 14 May 2010

In my purse


I keep being tagged on people's posts to take pictures of 'whats in my handbag' and I always chose to ignore them. The truth is I'm kinda embarrassed by the shit I carry around with me! While I would love for my life to look like this I'm afraid it really doesn't! I don't even have a handbag - I have a kinda worn out holdall kinda thing with a broken press stud. (The best compliment I ever got was from a young girl in a hospital waiting room-"I like your bag-is that from Primark?" No dear, but thanks for pointing out that it looks like it cost me £1.50!) Anyway, this morning I decided to empty some of the shit from my purse (see above). You gotta start somewhere right? I have to admit it feels good, even though I'm kinda shocked with just how much I had managed to fit into my purse - all of it complete rubbish!

Now I just need to sort out my bag, my car, my drawers, my work desk, my life....

Saturday 8 May 2010

dirty stop out

I try not to go out too often because I have this kinda disability. You see I'm missing that ability that other people seem to have where they know it's time to go home. Even though I always go out with the best intentions ("just nipping out for a drink with Wendi darling, yep just the one") as soon as I've downed that first vodka and lemonade I just want to stay out forever - literally. My poor boyfriend has had to put up with this for 8 years, rolling in a 4/5 in the morning after I've said I'll be a back around 10 (yes, yes, I know he worries). Anyway, cos I know what I'm like I try to resist going out any more than once a month, although if I'm honest this is more because my hangovers these days feel like I'm literally dying for 24 hours. Many Saturday mornings I've driven my son to football training with a sick bowl discretely hidden by my feet! Anyway, last night I went out for a few drinks with some girls from work. I said I'd be home for 11 and was home for 10 to 1 so for me that's quite good (even though I texted at 11.30 to say I was just finishing my drink before getting two more). It took all my effort to leave at 12.30ish (although actually it was probably like all my friend's effort who knew my boyf would be worried). "You're boyfriend is so lucky" a couple of guys told me, after I admitted that if they were on the pull they should probably try their lines on the two single girls rather than me, "No, really he's not" I assured them! All I wanted to do was stay out but I was proud of myself that I was able to have a good time and also get home at a 'reasonable' hour for once.

I don't know why I don't go out more often I thought to myself as I stumbled happily into bed. Then realised why not this morning as I forgot to wake up in time to take my son to football training! (oops - note to self - you are a bad mother!) Still on the upside I did discover the best hangover cure - olives for breakfast - try it. I feel great (well apart for the guilty bad mother/girlfriend thing!)


Saturday 1 May 2010

Most Improved Child

My son got his statistics coursework back yesterday. One mark off an A - not bad for what looked to me like an illegible piece of work! Now I just need to make sure he revises for the exam next month...and learns how not to write 6's that look like 8's.

It was also his football presentation evening yesterday. I was chatting to my work husband about it at work. The worst trophy you can get is 'most improved' he said, cos that basically just means you used to be a bit rubbish.

I sat clapping with the other mums as each boy collected their trophy and had their 2 seconds of fame and each coach showed off their presentation skills with the occasional rap or break dance or crap joke. Just as I was working out how I could sneak out for a wee I heard......"something just clicked with this player half way through the season and since then he's been unstoppable...so the trophy for most improved player goes to...."

I watched my son's face light up as his name was called out.

Gutted!

I texted my work husband "how embarrassing"
"Oh well, better luck next year" he replied!


Thursday 29 April 2010

Chez Moi



Sometimes I hate my house. I hate the old windows that let the cold in. I hate the fact there are cracks in places I cant ignore. I hate that no room is properly finished. I hate that the poor excuse for a garden is just a patch of mud in the winter. But on sunny days I love my house. I love all the windows that let the light stream in. I love the fact that no other house is like it. I love the huge tree that blossoms every spring. On days like these I wish I worked from home, rather than in a dated council building on the A50....


The spy that loved him

I am glad that I am good friends with my teenage son's older teenage half sister.
I am glad that when I thought something wasn't right with my teenage son I was able to talk to my teenage son's older teenage half sister.
I am glad that my teenage son's older teenage half sister was able to find out loads of stuff about my teenage son's new 'friend'.
I am glad that my teenage son's older teenage half sister was able to tell me everything she found out.
I am glad that I was able to talk my teenage son about the things his older teenage half sister told me.
I am glad that my teenager son's older teenage half sister was able to tell my teenage son that she just cared about him and didn't want him to grow up too quickly and I am glad that she told him she loved him.
I am glad that my teenage son was able to tell his older teenage half sister that he knew and he was able to say thanks and I am glad that he told his sister that he loved her too.
x

Monday 19 April 2010

Songs that make me

AKA story of my life in songs



My mum used to sing this to me when I was baby, then when I heard it again when I was like 9 or 10 or whatever it sounded really familiar and so obviously that was why. I tried singing it to my son when he was baby too but I have such a bad singing voice I probably traumatized him for life instead!



We used to sing this song at christian camp! Over and over and over again. We sang it to the boys and changed the words so that it was about them. I don't think they were too impressed.




I just used to love this song - Its like the only song I know all the words to. (How ironic!)



This reminds me of being 14/15. I think I snogged my first boyfriend to this song in my garage.



Ok, this is the song I got married to. I didn't care who was I was marrying. In my head I was Charlene Robinson!



My ex was like really into heavy metal so when I left part of my rebelious phase was to go out to clubs he'd hate and dance to music he'd hate. This was my personal fave.



I've only been dumped once in my life. We'd been going out for about 5 months. I didn't even like him that much at the time but I found being dumped pretty difficult and I was kinda intense! I listened to this song a lot as I wallowed in self pity!



I love this song cos it reminds me of a time when my son was a baby and his breath smelled of milk! When my brother was in hospital last year I'd make him sing this with me every time I visited him and I'd pretend we were gonna audition for the X-factor! We never did make X-factor but a while ago my brother had to give video evidence for the police - It's a long story but basically at one point they had to go out the room but they left the camera rolling so we did our X-factor piece - y'know just in case they wanted to send it on. One day it'll turn up on You've Been Framed or something....

Saturday 17 April 2010

The start

This was the conversation in my car twenty minutes ago:

Son's new friend: Do you want to come to the park with us later?
Son: I can't I'm doing something today.
Son's new friend: I usually go with this girl that lives next door - She's really good at football.
Son: Oh maybe I will come. What time shall I meet you?


Oh dear....It all starts here!

Wednesday 14 April 2010

Swear box

So anyway, there's this woman at work who is like ancient. She's so old she's developed this like old person's tourette's. It's quite amusing. I sat next to her today as she cursed her way through the morning. I can't believe your language I eventually said to her. We should have a swear box on your desk a colleague suggested. Beer money we decided.


D: 50p for a bollox
A: 10p a shit
me: 75p a fu....
Oh My God - That so didn't sound like that in my head!

Everyone looked at me horrified....before digging into their pockets for spare change to work out what they could get for their money.

I swear, if I get in work tomorrow morning and find piles of 75p on my desk I will not be amused...

Saturday 10 April 2010

I love summer

 I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer I love summer.

Really wanted to spend the whole day like this:

(this was actually a picture of a dead mouse we found but it didn't come out too well)

But my son has coursework to do so most of the day was spent like this......(hmmph - the things we do for our kids!)


Wednesday 7 April 2010

Thelma and Louise avec kids


By day we drove through rainbows, collected shells, slipped on sea weed, kissed crabs, climbed 198 steps and sailed a pirate ship. By night we drank wine and gin and put the world to rights, created our own religion, moaned about men and planned idyllic futures, or least the houses we wanted to live in....Fun had by all....till next time....