Almost daily diary!

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Window lickers

We are driving along the road, nothing much is really going on, we are on the way home from school. Small Sprog has a noisy friend in the back of the car and I have more or less switched off to their chat until I hear him say "Don't lick the windows of the car though, they taste awful" and then, just as I am about to ask how he could possible know that, his 15 year old sister agrees with him "Yes" She says "They taste disgusting"
"There's only one way you'd know that!" I shout "Only very strange people lick the inside of car windows!"
"I didn't mean to lick them" He says "I just did it accidentally while I was asleep"

Do I look that stupid?!

Meanwhile, as I write, Small Sprogs girlfriends mother is texting me about her distraught daughter who is in tears because she thinks my son has 'dumped' her.( Do I need to remind you that they are only 11 years old?) I text back, trying to reassure her that although he is a bloke (sorry male readers), which means he has no idea about what is going on, he really has a kind heart and wouldn't upset her intentionally. I press 'send' with my fingers crossed, mostly I think I know him but sometimes I reckon there's a whole 'other side'! Her mother texts back: I did tell her that boys take about 3 months longer than girls to notice that anything's wrong!

3 months, I muse, as quick as that?...




Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Mr A (for Archibald) Cat

Meet Archibald. He is adorable, at last our family is complete. He is aproximatly 13 years old and was unwanted by his last family as they had small children, which is a bit sad but their loss. He seems to be settling down well and is no trouble at all, apart from his carpet scratching habit; we may need to litter the house with those awful cat scratching posts.

Tall Girl wants to call him 'Jam' but as we've adopted him, he already has a name; Archie, a perfectly lovely name for an ageing cat. I proposed Mr. A Cat but that is not what she wants. She is excited and sends a text: I'm calling him Mr Jammy Dodger Kitty Catty...Dodger for short or for longer shortness 'Jammy Dodger'!

Longer shortness? Well that's really going to confuse him!



Sunday, November 27, 2011

Nearly 3 years on; normal but different

Late Friday afternoon and I pull onto the familiar drive, the gravel crunching under the tyres. The place looks much the same as it always was, if not just a little more jaded. As the front door opened a wonderful smell of garlic wafted out.
"Daddy says would you like a cup of tea mummy" Small sprog shouts from the kitchen.
How did we get to this point? I walk in.

Ex Husband is cooking risotto, juggling ingredients, smiling, enjoying the task. We talk, the children join in, he makes me a cup of tea, well mostly makes it; I reach into the fridge for the milk. The handle feels looser, more fragile and the inside is full of things that I have not bought and stored away, things have changed.
"Would you like to eat with us?" He says after a while
"I'm out with my girl friends at 8pm" I say "but it smells delicious, I'd love just a little"

He sets me a place at the table. Not 'my' place, he sits there now; no it is his old place, the one furthest from the kitchen that I sit at. The seat which, at the time, was his because he had very little to do with preparing meals and fetching things from the kitchen back then.

We sit down to eat. I worry momentarily that the children will find it unsettling but that didn't seem to be the case. It was a wonderful moment. Strange, very strange, like moving into an alternative universe, one that could have been, had things been different. It was happy and easy and unbelievably good. We had made it, to this place that I had hoped for. Normal but different.

After eating he clears the dishes while I chat to our children about their day at school. I found myself thinking how the tables have turned; things have changed and I quietly muse on the massive cost of getting here.

As I leave I offer to help him clear up, old habits die hard. He waves his hand dismissively saying "It really doesn't matter"

And as I go I know how important it was to say those words, for me to hear them too. All that time, all those days; it really never did matter...




Monday, November 14, 2011

The Floozy!

Small Sprog brings his Girl Friend home. She is sweet and pretty and well mannered but goodness me is she full on?! By the time I had fed them dinner I was ready for a break; Tall Girl was at the kitchen table trying to complete homework and I just wanted some peace while I cleared up the dishes.
"Why don't you go and watch TV and I'll bring your pudding in a minute?" I asked. They agreed to go, phew!

However, 10 minutes later, when I appear at the sitting room door with 2 banana splits (and that is a fitting desert now I come to think of it) there she is, sitting as close to him as she can get with her arms all around him. Yes, can you believe it? He is sitting on the sofa wedged against the arm of the chair and she is cuddled up as close as she can get without actually sitting on him, the floozy. Good Catholic Girl indeed! They shuffle apart as I walk in to distribute pud.

Back in the kitchen I shut the door behind me giggling and explode "She's snogging him!" to Tall Girl. She looks at me disapprovingly  "You'll have to go in there in a minute" I say pleadingly "And play Gooseberry for a while, I'm not having them doing that in there, he's not even 12 yet!"

And indeed he's not. He seems very nonchalant about the whole girl friend thing, it seems to have just 'happened' to him without any effort on his part. However she seems more than intense. I am slightly worried. I have a little talk to him about being careful, in more ways than one. He is now the one wearing the look of disapproval.


Friday, November 04, 2011

Update

Only 50 days to Christmas (yes really) and Tall Girl is fifteen next week (where did all those years go?) and Small Sprog has a Girl Friend (Big Time). Homework has taken over the house, GCSE's r us. Hours have been spent visiting Ikea recently, which lets face it, is enough to make anyone reach for the gin and I don't even drink gin. And then, suddenly, the other day I had a rare moment of clarity. Yes really, fancy that, I actually felt organised, just for a moment. The feeling didn't last long but the small pleasure of the feeling remains. And no, I haven't already written all my Christmas cards, Tall Girl forbids the early onset of Christmas until after her birthday, but I have sorted out Tall Girls room. A total revamp. She loves it and so do I. Everything now has a place, I wonder how long it will stay that way?

As for Small Sprog, his Girl Friend is in Luurrve with him, I'm not sure if it is mutual, he's not letting on. Apparently she has 'I love Small Sprog' written all up her arm most days on her return form school. Or so her (very young) mum says. Over the half term break we took her out for a day trip (she's a lovely girl), after a conversation with her mother who let me know in no uncertain terms, that she was brought up a 'Good Catholic Girl'. Gosh, I thought, I had never considered Small Sprog as a candidate for corruption.... but then again!