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...'



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:

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

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

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

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....


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! 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 the trophy for most improved player goes to...."

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


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