Today is a good day, for now.

The washing machine is fixed.

The custody is sorted, for now....

A six month trial. Six months will go so fast. I have managed to keep the children together except for one night, so I can cope with that. And they will stay with me more nights than with their father. For now...

I am frightened about the future. But for now I am trying to rest my brain a while and enjoy the little respite I have, knowing they are safe, together and mostly with me.

The mediator was fantastic, a very clever man, who kept his calm and ours. I am very grateful to him.

In four weeks time we will meet again to settle finances. I know for a fact that financial matters will take far longer than 2 hours, if we can settle at all. But that is another story.

Today is a milestone, one that has taken far to long to get too, but has been reached nonetheless. Today there is a very, very small twinkle at the end of a massive tunnel and I think it is getting very slightly larger as I gaze in.

PS. Thank you to everyone who has sent me good wishes, it means a lot to feel peoples kindness, it is very much appreciated.

Good day / Bad day?

Tomorrow is a big day for me, very big.......because.........the washing machine man cometh! Yes, at last! Almost a month to the day, the man is due to turn up to fix my machine. I've waited since Boxing Day, so not bad really!

Since Boxing Day I have been carrying loads of dirty washing around Bristol and the wider area, quite a lot travelled as far as Cheltenham, to willing friends and relatives who have kindly let me use their machines. Thank you so much, you know who you are!

The man is due at 7.30am. No pressure then! Lets hope it is mend able.

And then there is the little matter of the mediation appointment...

If it is a good day, by tomorrow evening I will have a washing machine that works as well as a custody plan that works too. If it's not a good day I will still be carting washing about later this week and court beckons. Please let it be the former....

The Party

If you can grade the enjoyability level of a small boys party by the amount of sweatiness, and stickiness achieved, then I'd say tonight was a huge success! Ooooh was he sweaty!?

It often feels quite odd having a party at a venue other than home, I feel a bit 'once removed' from it, no preparation, no food to shop for, no worrying about what to eat, drink or do, no stress whatsoever in fact! Tall Girls parties are often at home, but boys need more activity and space than home can provide, and seeing as he was not born during clement weather, a party venue seems the logical choice.

This one was fairly extravagant. He chose it and I know that when we are all living separately we will not be able to afford such extravagance, so I decided that this year, double figures no less, we'd go for it.

Now they say you only get what you pay for and I have to say the service was perfect. We had a member of staff designated to us, Max his name was, and he was the nicest most helpful person you could wish to meet. He was great with all the children and nothing was too much trouble. They played in a massive warehouse type place for an hour, ate for half an hour and then did 'Laser Quest' for the last 45 mins. Max organised them into teams and played with them, during one round it was all of the children against him, he was amazing. At one point he said to me that he didn't know how people coped with being parents. I think that was after he had run several laps whilst being shot at! I replied that he was making a much better job of it than I was, as he was the one playing with them and I was not. . .

So, seeing as our personal circumstances are so precarious, and not conducive to a party atmosphere, this was just the best place to be. All the children seemed to have a great time apart from one, who felt sick. There's always one!

Mother of two boys stayed the whole time with me. She was there early, even before we arrived and was the last to leave with me. I thanked her for her support at the end, I don't think she will ever realise how much it meant for me to have her there. I know it sounds silly but I felt protected and less exposed.

One other thing will stick in my mind though. As we left the house for the party, I opened my car door and the children got in, my two and one of Small Sprogs friends from school. It was natural that they all got into my car, we had not long got out of it after the school run, and had only gone in to change and have a snack, so when Husband followed us out of the house and said 'Shall we all go in your car?' it took me by surprise. The thought hadn't occurred to me, in fact I thought he was going to the venue straight from work.

'I don't think so' I replied. I really didn't want him that near physically.

'Tall Girl can squeeze in the back' He insisted

'It's too uncomfortable' she quickly retorted and shut her door.

I was surprised. Was she protecting me? Or did she really not want to share the back seat with her brother and friend?! Whichever it was, she wasn't slow in making herself clear. We travelled separately to and from the venue. Now I only have Small Sprogs actual birthday to get through.

Happy Birthday for Saturday Small Sprog

Love from Mummy x

Sweet dreams and nightmares

'Mummy, I had a lovely dream last night' said Small Sprog sleepily as he teetered, wobbly from sleep, down the stairs this morning.

'Did you?' I replied 'What did you dream about?'

'Well, I was a mole and Tall Girl was a hedgehog, and we were in the jungle together and there was a big screen and I said to her do you want to play and she said.......'

By this time I had forgotten to concentrate.

'That's a lovely dream' I said soothingly when he at last drew breath. 'It's funny' I said 'But I don't think I've ever dreamed I was an animal, I think I am always a person in my dreams'

'You are strange' He said firmly, giving me an odd look, and went on with eating his breakfast.

This evening it is Small Sprogs party and tomorrow it is his birthday. I am looking forward to helping him celebrate, but at the same time not wanting to have to share the time and space with Husband. It is a little like Christmas time again. Actually I am dreading having to be at the party venue tonight with him. We will be the only two adults (apart from the staff at the venue) for a whole 2 and a half hours, with nowhere to hide.

Sometimes things turn out better than you expect. I hope this is one of them.

PS. This morning, just before I left for work I had a lovely text from one of my girl friends saying that she will stay with me for a while at the party tonight. I am blessed with good friends and am very thankful.........

Lunchtime update:

When I returned home from work there was a packet which had arrived for me in the post. Inside was a note from another very good friend, it cheered me up no end, and she had sent me a gift too, something to go with some shoes which I had bought when shopping with her recently.

I am so lucky to have friends who show they care. Thank you x

Next Monday

This coming Monday I have my mediation session with Husband to sort out custody for the children. I am dreading it, really dreading it. Every morning I wake early with all the thoughts and reasoned arguments I have in my head as to why they need to spend the majority of their time with me. I am worried about him having them for a lot of the time, especially Tall Girl on her own for 3 nights. I think his wish to have them is motivated by several things, his wish not to be lonely, his wish to hurt me and an idea that he can look after them if they look after themselves. I still marvel at the fact that he wants to split them up for 3 nights in a week.

I am trying to analyse my motivations about why I want to have them more. It is not loneliness, for I am not frightened of being alone, I have friends,my mum and hopefully will be free to spend time with my SO when they are not with me. I do not want to hurt Husband either.

I hope my motivation for wanting them is because I think it is the best thing for them. I work school hours, can always pick them up and take them to school, can always be there in the school holidays. Together we seem to live a 'normal' existence happily together. I don't put them under pressure, I don't think, I hope.

I think they have enough to cope with by the splitting up of their parents, without the two of them being apart 3 nights every 2 weeks. I don't think that is right for them, but then who knows what he might be able to get away with.

I'm sorry but I need to write this here. I guess there is no use worrying about it until Monday comes, but I just can't help thinking.......

Small Sprogs worries

It is Sunday evening and I am snuggled in bed with Small Sprog. We are both tired and have had a lovely day together which culminated in dancing in the kitchen to very loud music. Now is a moment for quiet time together.

In the dark, lying next to him, I am listening as he describes our new home, a pretend home, one he has never seen or been to. It has a green staircase and the hall has a stone floor. He doesn't like the cold floor or the colour of the stairs. Through a green door is the living room, there is a fire place with a copper chimney breast, he doesn't like the copper. There is a comfy chair and a rug and a big TV. He likes this room, but says it has the feeling of belonging to an old person. In the kitchen there is a shiny cooker and a tumble dryer and a very small TV. I think it is a happy house. In the attic there is a box. 'What is in the box?' I ask.

'Your secrets' He says, you can't look in there. 'But there is another box, my box, where I keep my secrets' He carries on 'And Tall Girl has a box with a mirror in it that you gave to her'

I am entranced at his descriptions, his depth of feeling, his imagination. I can see it all, just as he is describing it. There is a box for worries too, he says. One where you write your worries on some paper, tear it up and put the bits in the box. There is another box for wishes. You write the wishes down and put the paper in the pond. When you pick the paper from the pond the words have floated up to heaven for God to read, then you put the paper back into the wishes box.

He describes to me how the boxes are decorated, his, Tall Girls and mine. I listen carefully, knowing that this conversation is well overdue. He has not been himself of late. I have been away too much and he has bottled up his fears and worries. We all tend to keep him safe from the truth, he doesn't have the full picture. He is worried about the future. He says it is all so confusing.

Tonight I made him a promise that I hope I can keep; I told him we would be happy eventually and that everything would work out fine. I told him to remember two things: To trust me that everything will be ok and that if he wanted to talk to someone, then he should talk to a very lovely lady at his school. I promised him that she would listen and not tell, I know for a fact that that would be the case. I hope I have done enough.

I love him.

We need to move on, for all our sakes.

Weekend stuff

On Saturday I had 2 mornings, as if getting out of bed just once isn't bad enough!!! I'm not great in the morning.

I was awake at 3am to take my SO to the airport and then returned home to bed, being woken the second time by a Small Sprog with and a roaring dinosaur! He often brings his Nintendo into bed in the morning. Getting up the second time in one day wasn't any easier than the first.

This morning the children and I are all in my room again, on various electronic devices. I can't think where they get that from!

Small Sprog is creating a virtual creature to do battle with, I am here, obviously, on my laptop and Tall Girl is playing truly awful music on her new phone, which apparently is the best thing in the world........

Yesterday we went to Tesco to get her a new phone. Before we get there she tells me how she likes a particular phone that all her friends have, but that it seems to break easily. So when we get to the 'phone dept', she points to the said phone and says that is the one she wants.

'You must be joking' I say as she throws a pout my way 'You said it is hopeless, and just look at the price!'

The pout gets more pronounced. If she had been two years old she'd be lying on the floor kicking and screaming!

'Have a look at the others, there must be another one that you like?'

Obviously there wasn't, not one! Why on earth didn't I delegate this job to her father?

I tried to point out that she has just had a birthday and Christmas and a laptop in September and the fact that her existing phone has just decided to die, didn't mean she could have a top of the range phone, just for nothing. End of lecture! The pout continued.

'Well, you'll just have to make do with your old one until it completely gives up' I say determinedly, beginning to walk away.

I noticed a moment of panic in her eyes. I had found her weak spot!

To cut a long story short, we found a medium priced phone that she deemed acceptable. By the time we arrived back to the car she was beaming with excitement! She tore open the box, loaded her Sim and memory card and before we were out of the car park, she was oohing and ahhhing about all its various attributes. It was 'The Best Phone In The World'. Damn I thought, I could have got away with an even cheaper version!

Teenagers!

Best bits?

The lovely Dulwich Divorcee tagged me with a task / meme which is to write about my five best bits of 2009.

I must have at least five, I thought to myself as I looked briefly through last years posts. I know I have had some very heady moments over the last year, though often I have not been able to write about them. Most of these have been with my S.O: Getting to know him; spending time together; our holiday and snatched weekends all of which have culminated in a whole year of best bits.

Those best bits though, have been interspersed with the turmoil of still living here as a family. Feeling a stranger in my own home, and seeing the children attempting to cope with their new reality. It has been an emotional roller coaster of a year, and I had no idea it would flow so smoothly into the next. Nothing much, on the surface seems to have changed. Yet while re reading some of 2009's early entries in order to remember my best bits, I realised I have moved on a little, if only in accepting things I cannot immediately change, being completely certain of what I am doing, and, very strangely, accepting my present circumstances here as a new sort of reality and way of living that although unwanted, I can manage to exist with. Just.

Whilst reading I realised why I don't often look through my posts from last year, particularly the early part of it. It is all too recent. Saying that, it is a new year and I am itching to move on more than ever.

Last week I did manage to make my mediation appointment despite the snow. The mediator, put me at ease, talked me through how things would be and took some of my worries on board. He seemed very sympathetic, but then that is his job.

It seems husband has also been there and agreed to the process. The next step is for the two of us to be in a room together, with the mediator, to thrash out custody arrangements for the children. A date has been set. We have 90 minutes to get through and further appointments if not enough ground is made. I am dreading it. He can bully me and speak over me very well. The mediator is there for a reason. I hope he is good at his job. I have a bottom line regarding arrangements, I know what I want and what I will concede. I hope he has a compromise in mind too.

So all being said and done, a new year does not really mean a new start, not yet, not for me. I have said it before but this time last year I really thought it would all be over, done and dusted. How wrong I was, how glad I am that I didn't know!

So rather than best bits, here are some good things that have come out of the last year; perhaps next year I will post my best bits.

I no longer live in the past.

I am learning how to be thankful.

I am loved.

I have some wonderful friends.

I have the opportunity to be the sociable person I once was.

All in all I have 'found myself', not completely, but enough to realise I didn't like living in the shadows. I am lucky, and one day I will realise my goal.

Snowed in, it makes me cranky!

My washing machine died on Boxing day, I have been carrying around bags of dirty washing to various peoples houses for over a week now and there is no end in sight.

It has snowed so much that everyone has been at home today, everyone. Bum. It was my day off and I had not planned to be snowed in with Husband et al. It had the potential to be a little like Christmas day without the vital alcohol and festive cheer. He doesn't plan to go anywhere tomorrow either.........

In the bath today Small Sprog could be heard shouting at the top of his voice 'Muuuuuuum'

I rushed in, wondering what I'd find.

'Look!' He shrieked 'I've made a lobster!'

He points to a vague array of bubbles

'Lovely' I smile at him, no need for panic then!

'Actually it's turned into more of a crab now' He complained 'You took too long'

Well, if it was a matter of life or death I'd have sprinted, for goodness sake.

Did I wish you all a happy new year?!

The first of the packing

Tonight I took down all the decorations from the tree and the Christmas cards. I know it is not twelfth night yet but now I am home, I am craving change.

I remember last year I couldn't wait to put them away either, yet in my haste I didn't pack them with the usual care. There were no casualties when they emerged this year, thankfully, although I didn't use everything, partly because we had a smaller tree and partly, in a strange subconscious way, because I didn't want to 'taint' them with this 'Last Christmas Together'. As I denuded the tree last year, I thought that it would be our last in this house, how strange that we are all still here.

So tonight, with hope in my heart that these four walls will not see my precious treasures again, I wrapped and folded and repacked in original boxes, all the pretty baubles bought over time, mostly by mum and myself, and decorations made by the children. I have placed them carefully into two large bags and tomorrow will load them into the car and take them to mums, where I will leave them until I move house. Funny really, that I am doing this with things that have little monetary value. Mum keeps nagging me to remove some of the more expensive things that she has bought me over the years. I am working up to that, I can feel that soon I will be able to, but for the time being, my Christmas decorations will be safe until next year, and who knows where we will all be then?

Happy New Year

I have had a lovely relaxing couple of days at home with the children since Boxing day, just the three of us, doing not very much at all. Tomorrow, weather permitting, I shall see my S.O. for a few days. I have been looking forward to it very, very much, yet it is a bitter sweet feeling to be leaving tomorrow, sometimes I feel torn in two...

This will be the first New Year that I have spent away from my children. Obviously, most years they have been in bed at midnight, though last year they were both were old enough to stay up, but it still feels slightly odd to say goodbye tomorrow and not be with them for the passing of the year.

Whilst thinking it over I have remembered the one new year that I did spend with Tall Girl, and indirectly Small Sprog too. It was the Millennium, and we were at a fancy dress party. The theme was The Movies, and Tall Girl, just 3 years old, went as Tinkerbell. I remember, at midnight, sweeping her up in my arms (heavily pregnant with Small Sprog who was due on 17th January) and dancing the first dance of the year 2000 with her. I will never forget that dance, the two of us together, in our own world. She has always been a party animal, and kept going until well after midnight, wings and all...

There is so much to remember at this time of year.

Happy New Year to you all, wherever you are.

Extraordinarily normal

How strange it was to be here, all together, on Christmas day. It was extraordinarily normal, helped by wine consumption I'm sure, but not unpleasant.

Cooking Christmas dinner with Husband was like going back in time, we functioned together like we always did, the children floated about, he called me by the name he always used to call me and I didn't notice until he corrected himself, it was indeed, extraordinarily normal.

It was a little like cooking with my girlfriend two days before. She and I have known each other 13 years, have holidayed together and we have shared each others space so many times before. That was how we were together, Husband and I. And I realised how we had been just that for so long, just old friends. I had no desire to touch him, in necessary moments I moved out of his space, as you would a girl friend, yet we functioned fluently together.

It was interesting to analyse, interesting to remember and know that, if I was older, I would perhaps have settled for that for the rest of my life. Lots of people do. My mother did, some of my friends have. No raging passion, no wanting, no feeling of wholeness or being truly alive, no longing or desire, just an amiable knowledge of someone you have known, a comfortable normality, discovered in a moment of calm.

Yet that is not enough, I knew it long ago and have been given a fleeting moment, by chance, to relive an old normality again. Comfortable yes, but this comfort is not for life, it was just for Christmas! There is so much more to a relationship than half a bottle of wine and some Christmas cheer. So much more.

Yet within it is hope. Hope that one day, when we live separate lives, in separate homes, that we can get on and function in a civilised and even happy way, because no matter what happens, we have two beautiful children, and that is what they deserve.

How was your day?

Reasons to be full of cheer.....

There are some wonderful people in my life and I am so very grateful for them all.

Today I am grateful for my three lovely girlfriends - and their children- who have given me sanctuary these last three days. They have given the children and I far more than that though, their gift of friendship is dear to me and precious indeed. There have been copious amounts of tea drunk, miles of snow covered countryside walked, biscuits made and parcels exchanged. There has been laughter and excitement and offers of shoulders to cry on if needed, there has been food offered and bottles pressed into hands. What more could I need? Yet there is more.

From friends far away I have had e mails, and unexpected presents in the post to make me giggle, both of which arrived at a moment when I most needed them, both offering friendship and company, 'We are always here for you, any time' what more could I ask for? I am blessed.

Tomorrow I am taking Small Sprog and Tall Girl to Mums for the day, all three of them blessings, though not always easy to remember them all as that!! It will be our Christmas together and I know she will make it special, (I hope she will give my stepfather a good talking to before we get there, and hide the strong stuff until after we've gone!) Christmas will come early, Small Sprog is excited to have two Christmases, I will be free of husband for the day, and so I hope I can be myself.

And lastly you, my bloggy friends, who visit and keep in touch and support no matter what. Thank you, what would I do without you?! I know Christmas is not the perfect time for everyone, I am thinking of you all and wishing you all as good a Christmas as you can possibly have.

Merry Christmas

to you

with love from

x

Snow!

Woke to this this morning. A lovely surprise for the children who played until they were wet through over and over again. I was enjoying their delight but secretly hoping that I would not be stranded here for days on end with Husband!

Small Sprog, Tall Girl, the Nit Children and a few 'Hangers On' built this snowman. Later however, somehow or other, he lost his head (the snowman, not Small Sprog, though confusion could be forgiven!) So when we went out to see some other friends this afternoon, the children decided to make him a replacement head. We brought it home in a Sainsburys carrier bag. The head was named Trev. The body remains unnamed!!

I Got the Blues.......

Sometimes I just get blue. Something sets it off and I feel the need to hide away and wait for it to pass. Recently it hasn't happened much, I have been too busy, kept myself busy. Being busy means there is no room for the blues. Being busy is a safety net, a crutch, a coping mechanism. I am not alone often enough to allow myself the indulgence of blueness. It does seem an indulgence.

Yet it is a necessary function, to feel blue.

Today I spent the day alone, I did not rush around, I did not feel the urge to compulsively fill each moment. I had time to just be. And all the feelings and trauma of the year filled my body and found it's way out in tears. A necessary cleansing.

Sometimes the world feels like a stage, we paint on the smile, lift up our chins, and carry on. Even my job encourages this, working with children requires this sort of act and it is not a hardship to smile and be happy with them.

But today I am licking my wounds. It has been a very long time since I have done so, it s way overdue and I don't have enough time to do my laundry properly.

Tomorrow I will smile and enter stage left. It will pass and things will move on.

Hope (a not very Christmassy post!)

Husband has agreed to mediation, thank goodness. Mind you he has just paid his solicitor a HUGE amount of money from our joint account for work done so far, so that may have concentrated his mind!

Tuesday nights he is usually out, but the class he goes to is finished until the new year, so I knew my one night in with the children alone was not going to happen. I was not looking forward to it. Tuesday nights are my brief respite from him here at home.

Anyway, tonight he wanted to 'talk' about custody arrangements. We never talk, but tonight we did. He still wants what he wants, and thinks a court would ok it. I had had half a bottle of wine at this point, so was able to let it wash over me, though I did say what I wanted, and reminded him that mediation is about compromise.

If we go separately to our first appointments with the mediator and they think that one or other of us will not budge from our position, then they will send us straight to court.

I told Husband that I had no desire for court, but if it did go that far, neither what he wanted or what I wanted would be taken into consideration. The court decides what is right for the children, not the adults. This seemed to surprise him. I wonder what his solicitor has told him? Perhaps he is being badly advised?

The wine worked wonders though, and enabled me to tolerate him for the evening. We all sat to eat together, which doesn't happen much now, and the children like it when we do. He even mentioned that he was eager for this all to end now, and that it was time we both made a new start. A year on, you bet it is, for all our sakes! What he said was music to my ears but, in the back of my mind, I know it will be on his terms, both for custody and financially, I can't let that be. I hope he is telling he the truth and not trying to manipulate me. Time will tell......

The Tree and other preparations

Well (one) of the days I was dreading over Christmas has come and gone. It should have been something to look forward to and indeed always has been before and I know will be fun again, but this time, on Saturday evening, decorating the Christmas tree was just something I had to get through. I did. It wasn't that bad in the end, but then often things that you are dreading aren't so bad in reality.

The children and I dressed the tree. My heart wasn't in it and I hope it didn't show. Small Sprog seemed to enjoy it as much as always, he was made for Christmas, and Tall Girl did her bit and flitted around like a baby giraffe on speed! Husband was a presence in the room, watching, commenting, I just had to remind myself that this would be the last time that we would all have to do it together, but then that is what I thought last Christmas.

However, today the three of us spent time at mums. The children decorated our Christmas cake and Small Sprog made chocolate truffles. They both finished writing their Christmas cards, we had carols and lit candles. It was a lovely day of Christmas preparation.

Whilst they were busy I manged to pop out for a bit to see an old friend. We had a wonderful gossipy hour, I was so excited to see her I was shaking! I am blessed, have loads to be thankful for, am taking things a day at a time.

Another Classic from Small Sprog...

This evening Small Sprog, Tall Girl and I were stuck on the M4 while trying to get to a Christmas event. We were quiet excited but prepared for lots of traffic, consequently we traveled with a large bag containing electronic games, a flask and some food, Mince Pies, Pringles, Chocolate biscuits (kindly donated) and some Clementines (just so as to look a little healthy!). Most of this was for Small Sprog, honestly!

We also had the radio on, Chris Evans on the 'All request Friday' programme. I quite like listening to him on a Friday night, and the people who ring in and say what they are doing for the weekend. This evening, whilst we were stuck in a four lane jam, he had a very chatty woman speaking on his show. When he had finished talking to her he commented on air, saying 'She was nice'.

Small Sprog piped up from the seat next to me 'Of course she was' He said

'What do you mean, of course she was?' I said surprised

'Well she's a lady, she's bound to be nice' He exclaimed 'Women are caring'

I was quite taken aback. Sometimes he shocks me with the contents of his head! Then he continued 'I'm just a bit confused'

I gave him a look. 'What about?'

He had a serious look on his face 'I haven't discovered the bit about how you get them to do all the work yet' He states

My jaw dropped. For once I was speechless!

Shopping

We had a lovely afternoon Christmas shopping, just Tall Girl and me after school on Monday. Small Sprog had gone for tea with one of his many girl friends, he hates shopping, so it was a good opportunity for the two of us to shop in peace.We managed to get some more things for Small Sprogs stocking and a few ideas for my mum. We also bought another present.

Tall Girl and Small Sprog always buy something for me and their dad at Christmas. I help them shop for Husband and, Tall Girl goes with him, at the last minute, to get something for me. This year she was worried I wouldn't want to help her get her dad something. How sad. I reassured her that I would gladly help her, after all it is for her benefit too, it would be sad if they had nothing to give. I wanted to help her enjoy the giving.

For a few weeks now she has been wondering what to get. I suggested she listen out for clues in conversations, but she is a bit young for that yet. Then, last weekend I overheard him telling her about a DVD he wanted. You and Small Sprog can go halves on it, I whispered to them later. They both agreed.

We bought the DVD during our shopping trip, she was pleased she could get something he wanted and will wrap it with Small Sprogs help later in the week. For me though, it felt very strange to shop with him in mind. I was oddly detached, it felt a little like buying something for an elderly aunt that one sees once a year, or an acquaintance that you don't particularly get on with.

Silent night....

.......well, almost anyway, because I've nearly lost my voice! It's a bit of a Brucey really (bonus), because I am over the cold and all the feeling poorly, and now, all of a sudden someones put me on mute! The children are most concerned. Gosh, am I usually SO very loud?! Small Sprog asked if he could clear the table tonight and get the washing out of the machine, it was all very surreal. "Are you sure you are alright mummy?" They chorused as I whispered instructions for bedtime. Small Sprog had a very worried look on his face as I squeaked his story out and then, halfway through Tall Girl offered to take over. She wasn't even buried in Facebook! If only I had known before. The way to get perfectly behaved children is to appear ill! All the times I have felt really poorly, but have had no obvious symptoms, I have had no sympathy at all. Now I am all squeaky, they are positively angels!

With any luck I will not get my voice back until the weekend. Having a loud voice is a tool of the trade when you work in a school, I wonder who I can get to phone in sick for me?!

Marking time

A year ago this weekend my dishwasher broke down. The fact suddenly struck me today. It is a strange thing to remember, but then it is not that event that has stayed in my mind, but what I did on the Monday following.

Isn't it funny how some days just stay with you, momentous occasions, some small and some life changing, especially when they fall on certain days, or at certain times of the year, like Christmas for example, or New Year. I can remember what I did on New Years Eve years ago, last year, the millennium, good ones, bad ones, all because it happens at a significant time every year. Like our children growing before our eyes, these events mark time.

Tomorrow is a special day. I know exactly what I did on the same day last year, the place, the time, the feeling. I am very lucky indeed to still be able to remember it fondly.

Even though this last year has been chaotic, there has been one beautiful constant in it all - well more than one, if you include my two lovely children- and I am thankful and grateful every minute of the day.

Twaaaannngggggg!

No, it's not to get my Revenge! I have just, probably unwisely, purchased one of these for Small Sprog for Christmas.

I have always tried to avoid buying guns for him, though I have to admit to a water pistol purchase a couple of summers ago, but somehow, that didn't seem to count. Has he been deprived do you think? I just have a 'thing' about glorifying the whole idea of shooting and killing. But then I am a girl, and have realised over the years, that boys will turn anything into a gun, if they don't actually have a toy one. Any stick, cardboard tube, coat hanger, bamboo cane, finger, anything in fact, that is not spherical can be 'imagined' into a gun.

So, this year when someone bought him a spud gun he was thrilled. His first real weapon! He loved it, and every potato in the house had holes in. But then he went to play with his best friend who had one of the items pictured here, The Elastic Band Gun, he raved about its specifications and waxed lyrical about its potential! For him this was it, this was SO much better than a spud gun, especially when aimed at the neighbours cat, which, of course I was extremely cross about!

Anyway, I am having trouble knowing what to buy him this year, especially as I have to think of ideas for items for other relatives to buy for him. Often not just thinking, but buying too -how does that happen exactly?- So I have grabbed the bull by the horns and bought it. He is a boy after all, and I have learnt and accepted that they are a totally different race altogether, I know he will be pleased. Luckily we live in a 'cat hating' neighbourhood and the ones that do live close, scarper on first contact!

I wonder how many injuries I will sustain?!

Today I received a letter in the post from the Family Mediation Service. It is a last ditch attempt to solve custody without going to court. The solicitor arranged it and I have been waiting for a week now to speak to them. I rang as soon as I opened the letter and they can see me in the first week of January. Obviously they have to see both of us. Separately first, to see if there is 'room' for mediation and compromise, and then together to 'thrash it out'. I am more than willing to try it and have high hopes, my appointment is booked. However I can't do it single handed, Husband has to agree to go too. They have given him until the 17th December to make his appointment. If he does not make one, mine will be cancelled and then to court we will go. All I can do is hope.

Facebook

At my daughters request I have relaunched my Facebook account. She is my only friend! She has thrown a snowball at me, and we have had an electronic chat regarding who should go and fetch the hot drinks and biscuits (of which there are only four left because she had eaten most of them earlier!) It is fun and I feel trusted that she wants me to be able to see her page, though I'm not sure if that will last! She is washing her hair now, we discussed it on 'chat'!

After she had gone I scrolled down her page. One entry stood out, it said: Fed up coz mum and dad won't stop arguing. Sad, and not entirely true, it is mostly a strained silence. Perhaps that is what she means. I left a one word comment - sorry-. At least, like me, she has a place to vent.

PS. I have just had a message from her, it says

- OK about the arguing -

I am counting my blessings.

Boxing Day

This could turn out to be a rant, but it is not really mean to be.

This week Husband asked Tall Girl if she wanted to see her Grandma on Boxing day. Tall Girl had told me her reply, she certainly didn't want to go. I gave her a look but I was not surprised! I knew how she felt. For the last 3 or 4 years we have visited Grandma on Boxing day as she has not wanted to travel over Christmas. It has become one of those traditions, which, to be very uncharitable, we could all have done without! However I did say to Tall Girl that I hoped no one would abandon me in my old age at Christmas. I mean, no matter how much of a duty it is, it still should be done. She is old, and will not see any other family over Christmas if Husband doesn't go.

None of us ever did want to go. Grandma has never been a hands on sort of Grandma. When the children were little it took them a while to realise that my mum was a hands on Granny, who would play and read to them as much as they liked but that Grandma was different. When she said she wanted to 'see' the children, that is what she wanted, to just see them, not play or talk to them particularly. Eventually they understood this, and when we visited we took toys and things to play with, quietly...

I spoke (yes, sometimes, where the children are concerned, we can actually have a relatively normal conversation) to Husband about the trip last night. "Tall Girl said she didn't want to go, so I thought we'd leave it this year, it's never much fun and it is Tall Girls Christmas too" He said.

Leave it?! I wanted to shout! Every bloody year we've been, none of us ever wanted to go, and it was our Christmas then too! Obviously I didn't say this out loud! I did give him a veiled lecture about duty and being lonely at Christmas, but he doesn't have much of a relationship with his mother either, nor a sense of duty I fear, so I think it fell on deaf ears.

I remember leaving her house Boxing day last year and thinking, (with glee!) that it would be the last time that I would ever visit her again. A good friend reminded me there is a silver lining to every cloud, it made me laugh at the time! I am by no means a saint, not in any shape or form, we have had our disagreements over the years. I fully acknowledge that a Christmas visit is never a pleasant visit, but she is old, and it is Christmas. I hope no one forgets me at Christmas when I am old.

The Memory Maker

This was in my mail this morning. It was sent from here, a blogger who I've not met before but who found me. In days like these, small kindnesses mean so much. Thank you Rob-bear.

Despite feeling lost, this weekend was not as bad as I'd feared. Things often aren't though are they, but that knowledge doesn't always help?

Sunday was as successful as Saturday. The children and I had a peaceful morning, even though Husband did join us at the breakfast table. By 11.30 we were on the road and the day went beautifully to plan. Loads of time for Small Sprog to enjoy the hands on stuff at the Science Museum, and then a beautiful tea with one of my oldest friends. By the time we arrived home it was Small Sprogs bedtime, he was exhausted. We had all enjoyed our day (though his excitedness had caused some interesting behaviour!) and I had survived the weekend almost Husband free, despite his being constantly at home.

Today is the first day of advent, though I'm not particularly religious, I do enjoy its regularity, predictability, and its rhythms. Yesterday Tall Girl announced that she was looking forward to Christmas this year. Gosh, at least she is not worried about it being 'normal' as I am. She says she is looking forward to buying people gifts. Gosh, at last the message of giving being better than receiving, has sunk in! She is growing up.

I, on the other hand, am trying hard to make everything special, without showing that circumstances are miles away from how they should be. For a couple of days now, advent calendars have been primed and ready to go, some present buying has occurred and I am falling into the festive spirit by default.

Husband and his family have never really been the sort of people who have celebrated Christmas in a big way. His sister and her husband tend to hide away until it's all over and Husband tends to think about it the day before, moaning about the build up and the festivities before hand with annoying regularity and breathing a sigh of relief when it is all over. So it has always been my task, and indeed pleasure, to perform the rituals and traditions that my mum passed down to me. The making of cakes with a stir and a wish. Making festive decorations and food. Decorating the house, finding festive things to do, singing Christmas songs and reading Christmassy stories. It has always been part of our family Christmas.

This year it is harder, and I am itching to forge new traditions for the three of us, ones that will become part of our memories of Christmas together, when Husbands dark cloud has departed. But as always I am impatient, I must wait, sit it out until the time comes. I will still be their 'memory maker' as Saz says , it will just take time.

One day done and one left to go...

... of the weekend that is. I can't complain so far, though in my head the whole weekend stretched ahead of me and I felt as though I was going to be walking through treacle. However, as always, the children are my saviours.

This morning my Small Sprog climbed sleepily up the stairs and lodged himself in my bed. We read stories and found and old Beano sticker book that he had hardly used. He set to work making his own comic strip with the sticker book characters, it kept him busy for what seemed like hours, first in my room and then sitting companionably on the bathroom floor while I was in the bath.

Tall Girl was, and has been since her birthday, engrossed in the audio Cd's of 'Twilight' which I bought her for her birthday. There are 11 Cds in the set and she has just reached the end. Being dyslexic, it would take her a tortuous couple of months to read the novel. She is spellbound by the story, as are all girls of her age it seems.

By the time we were all washed and dressed and ready for the day it was nearly noon! Husband had been downstairs all that time, well out of the way and unable to interfere. I love these leisurely mornings with my children. We were all happily doing our own thing, but together, if you now what I mean? There was no pressure to do anything or be anywhere, and for once, Husband was not making us go down for breakfast at a time when only he wanted to eat.

It was later, as I was washing up our late breakfast early lunch type meal, that I caught sight of Small Sprog proudly showing his dad his homemade comic strips. Husband had totally taken over the project and was doing one himself, while Small Sprog watched. I felt angry that he didn't have the respect to watch and encourage Small Sprog without interfering and trying to 'improve' him or tell him what to do. I kept my council.

By 3.30 we were at our party. It was fun and predictable, 12 years and always the same people and format, though the children are somewhat bigger now and the older ones initially more awkward! The predictability and company of close friends made the whole afternoon and evening fly by in such a comfortable way, we all know each other so well. There was, and always is, far too much food, but the mulled wine was just about perfect!

Husband did not come in the end. I was very relieved but as we left him behind in the house, I felt a small stab of pity for him. How would I have felt in his shoes? We had always gone before as a family. But the pity didn't last long, as I remembered just how bad things have been recently. Is that bad?

My Domestic Goddess friend, who was at the party and always makes the cake, commented on husbands behaviour when she dropped her children off to me recently. She commented on how cold and harsh he was, and how even to her, he was abrupt and off hand.

I was glad she had noticed. Sometimes I think I am going mad.

More time with friends tomorrow. I am thankful.

It is hard to know where to start...

I guess the custody battle is what is getting to me most. My priority is keeping the children out of court. So far husband has not changed his mind over custody and so my solicitor has said the next step is to let the court decide. I have no idea what he is playing at. How can he think about splitting the children? How can he think that he can care for a teenage daughter alone? How can he think that any of this is good for any of us? Why on earth does he want to pay huge court costs when his proposal is almost certain to fail? Unless there is something I don't know about.

I think he is counting up my nights away. He has stopped going away himself. He may be going to try to say I am not mothering properly.

Meanwhile his presence becomes even more claustrophobic. The fact that he will not go out means I have no down time at home with the children without him. His constant presence is intimidating, he has designed it to be that way.

This morning, as often happens, he was sitting in the kitchen on the last remaining chair. He had finished eating breakfast, but would not get up to let me sit to eat mine. He would not move to let me get a mug from the cupboard. All those low level things have begun to get me down this week, particularly with the prospect of staying at home a little more.

In the evening, as soon as I put dinner on the table in the other room for the children and I, he comes to sit with us. I don't want him there. I want to relax and unwind with my babies. It happens most nights now, unless I get food on the table ridiculously early. He seems to be getting home from work earlier too, so it is nearly impossible to eat before he arrives home. When at the table he tries to dominate the conversation. I see through him instantly, he used to never really bother asking about their school day before all this happened. He talks over me. It is unpleasant.

Tonight there were horrible sly and snide comments made to me when I was trying to watch a wildlife programme on the TV with Small Sprog. The solicitor said to stand up to him, but if I answer back, he throws another comment my way, and all the time Small Sprog is there, next to me on the sofa, listening.

So this weekend I have tried to fill our time with fun things to do, allowing for homework of course! We have the first Christmas party of the season on Saturday afternoon and evening, which is a regular event held just down the road from here, done in conjunction with 5 other families. It is always fun, they are some of my closest friends. I am hoping Husband will not attend...

On Sunday my lovely friend as invited us over to see her. We will also visit Techniquest beforehand. The children are really keen to go, for them it will be two treats at once. She understands my predicament. I am so very thankful to her and for all my wonderful friends. This week I have felt looked after by so many lovely people. I am very lucky, I could not carry on like this without them. I am grateful, it's just hard sometimes.

While I am writing, I am wondering how I will get through Christmas Day here with him and the children. At the same time I know it is what the children want. That is how I will get by.

Back down to earth

I am here. I am here with too much to write, with too many tears and a head full of thoughts that I cannot dispel.

Last weekend I was away and free. It was beautiful.

Now I am here, and things seem to get worse by the day.

Tomorrow morning I see the solicitor again.

Forgive me, for I am too tired of it all to write more.

In love with life and bloggy land!

I have noticed recently, on at least 4 blogs that I read daily, how people are doing lists of things that they are grateful for.

One thing I've learnt over the last year, or have been taught by a close friend perhaps I should say, is to count my blessings.

When you read other peoples blessings, you realise how much we have in common, how we all are touched by the simplest of things, how what makes us happy is often uncomplicated, family, friends, a sunny day. So I will try hard to continue to think daily of how lucky I am - for I am truly blessed with so many things - and remember to take time to take stock, instead of racing on to the next thing, as my impatient side will always tend to do.

Home

I love having a tidy house. I like the way everything looks right in a certain place. I especially like the kitchen worktops to be crumb and mess free, and I like the floor to be the same way. I am happy when the carpet is hoovered and the cushions are plumped.

However, I am struggling. Since I heard from the solicitor that Husband wants to keep this house, I feel like it doesn't belong to me any more. I have lost the will to keep it clean and tidy, apart from the essentials, and as I am doing the basics I feel as if I am cleaning someone else's house not my own.

Every so often I get a real urge to tidy and straighten. I suppose it is almost in built, we have been here so long and I have worked on autopilot for most of that time. Truth be told, there is a lot of satisfaction in tidying and straightening, it feels good, it helps me think straight. But suddenly I catch myself doing a job and then I remember, this is pointless, no one notices, no one keeps it tidy, no one keeps it clean and tomorrow it will look just as bad again.

Then I find myself looking at nice things in shops. Brightly coloured towels and accessories, china with clean lines, shiny new kettles and toasters! I am longing for a home, to make a home, it is what I used to do for a living and I miss it so. Whilst married Husband has often stifled my creativity. Sometimes this has lead to a total impasse and nothing has been agreed at all. I know life together is a compromise, yet I feel I have been compromised to the point of loosing myself.

I am longing for a home, I am waiting, but time moves so slowly.

Another toilet story!

It was a lovely relaxed start to the day yesterday, Husband left the house before we were all awake, and it was great to have the place to drift about in.

However, at about 8am there was a ring on the front door bell. I was in the downstairs toilet. "Tall Girl, you'll have to get it I'm having a ***" I shout urgently, just as the delivery driver wrenches open the porch door. I can hear her padding about and as she passes where I am, she tactfully pushes the door completely closed.

Inside I am trying to stifle giggles.

She signs for the parcel and shuts the front door with a bang.

As I hear it slam I explode into laughter, her face appears around the toilet door, she is giggling too. "Do you think he heard me?" I spluttered

"Definitely" She replied and gave me a withering look

Ooops, if only I was a quieter person!

I have just one word to say to you......

Here's a meme I have done before, but it was probably last year, and lots has changed since then, so when I saw it again I thought I'd have another go. You need to answer with one word answers (obviously!) not easy for me, hence the title!

1. Where is your cell phone? Somewhere

2. Your hair? Brown

3. Your mother? Mad

4. Your father? Technical

5. Your favourite food? Anything

6. Your dream last night? Oasis

7. Your favourite drink? Wine

8. Your dream/goal? Happiness

9. What room are you in? Attic

10. Your hobby? Communicating

11. Your fear? Loss

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Happy

13. Where were you last night? Here

14. Something that you aren't? Roasted

15. Muffins? Scones

16. Wish list item? Home

17. Where did you grow up? Cheltenham

18. Last thing you did? Ate

19. What are you wearing? Thin!

20. Your TV? iPlayer

21. Your pets? Gone

22. Friends? Wonderful

23. Your life? Messy

24. Your mood? Excited

25. Missing someone? Yes

26. Vehicle? Tickles

27. Something you're not wearing? Silk

28. Your favourite store? Sweetmart

29. Your favourite colour? Bright

30. When was the last time you laughed? 17:43

31. Last time you cried? Recently

32. Your best friend? Wales

33. One place that I go to over and over?

34. One person who emails me regularly?

35. Favourite place to eat? Sofa

Just to explain, my car's registration, sort of spells Tickles, almost....In case you think I've gone completely mad?

Feel free to join in!

The one in which Small Sprog locks himself in the loo...

Four weeks ago Small Sprog had his first ever flu jab. He suffers from asthma, which is mostly under control but he had a big 'flare up' last winter, so the NHS have sent him an invitation to be stabbed in the arm. Twice!

The first jab went well, he couldn't remember having an injection before as he had been so young last time. I bought and applied 'Emla' cream so that he wouldn't feel the needle, and all was fine until after the jab, where he promptly threw up out of shock. Poor love. Anyway thankfully the jab left no side effects - other than a complete fear of needles and the knowledge that having a jab can make you vomit - and all was well. Until this morning, when he needed to go back for his booster.

Now, rather than reminding him of it days ago, and letting him fret, I thought I would tell him at the last minute. He woke, bumbled sleepily to the breakfast table and thought about what to eat. I suddenly realised that maybe it was not a good idea for him to eat before we went, so I had to tell him there and then, where he was going at 9am. His face crumpled in betrayal. How could I? He began to sob. I tried to say it would be better this time, it was important that he should go, better than having the flu etc etc. Over time he seemed to resign himself, and after a shower and dressing, he watched TV, to 'take his mind off it'!

By 8.50 it was time to leave " Come on" I said "Time to go"

"I'm not going" He replied

Oh no, he was not resigned at all. I tried to lift him into my arms. He's damned heavy now and it was all I could do to keep his feet off the ground. I hauled him towards the door. As we passed the downstairs toilet, he grabbed hold of the handle. "I need a wee" He shrieked, so I let him down.

Into the toilet he went, shut the door and guess what? He refused to come out again! The door was firmly locked and bolted, there was no way to get to him, the little rascal- though that may not have been what I wanted to call him at the time. He must have been planning it, as a last resort, all along!

After much cajoling, he did come out. Eventually! The only reason being there was nothing very amusing to do in there, except read his joke book on the toilet while his legs went numb, and the joke book was at least two Christmases old.

Note to self; do not leave exciting reading matter in the toilet for Small Sprog, in four weeks time he has his swine flu jab! Shhhhhh, don't tell him!

Thank you

I have been very lucky recently to have received two awards.

The first from lovely Saz, who is often in my thoughts. This Kreativ Blogger award has clauses so here goes;

Firstly thank the person who gave it to you.
Copy the logo and place it in your blog.
Link the person who nominated you.
Name 7 things about yourself that no one would really know.
Nominate seven 'Kreativ Bloggers.'

The 7 things you don't already know is a bit of a tall order, so, having been inspired by a comment recently from Letty, I have given the 7 things a theme! Letty wanted to know how Husband and I got together in the first place, so here goes;

1 We met through my work

2 I was his customer

3 I had not long finished a long term relationship when he asked me out

4 When I met him I thought that he would make a good friend, nothing more

5 Within 3 months he asked me to marry him. It sounds so frivolous now, but I had no other plans for my life at the time and said yes without really thinking about it!

6 Within a year we were married

7 By the time I became pregnant with Tall Girl I knew I would never have the sort of relationship I really wanted.

It all seems, and indeed is, such a long time ago now. Yet had I not married him, I wouldn't have two beautiful children in the here and now, so perhaps it was meant to be. Anyway...

Now I need to nominate 7 bloggers. I would like to award this to;

Kitty

Liz

Elizabeth

Louise

Starnitesky

Rose

who are all very creative indeed.

And last but not least Letty with her private blog, for her inspiration!

This second 'Queen of all things'! award is from Chic Mama, thank you Chic, and it comes with no strings attached as far as I can remember! So, I would like to award this one to

Maggie

Saz

and Joanne

all Awe-Summmm in their own way

That's it then! Phew!

Hope you all had a good weekend. What was your highlight?

The Party

Tall Girls party on Monday night went far better than I had anticipated. Not that I thought it would be a bad party, just that Husband and I were there celebrating together for Tall Girls sake, and I didn't want her to feel an atmosphere on her special day.

If things had gone to plan it should have been like this;

Tall Girl home with 3 friends

Small sprog off to climbing wall with cubs (= Husband and Small Sprog being out for most of it!)

Eat copious amounts of pizza

Go to the cinema

Take friends home

Bed

But things rarely turn out as planned! It ended up like this;

Tall Girl home

One friend stranded with no lift so we went to fetch her.

One friend late

Another friend late because she forgot she was in a netball match!

All gathered in eventually.

No decent film that they all wanted to watch (this was agreed a few days before)

So... my lovely friend and beautician, Mother of Two Boys came at late notice to do a 'make-up' party

Small Sprog got wind of there being a party at home, so refused to go to the climbing wall and cubs.

Husband very cross that Small Sprog had changed his mind as he had 'rushed home' to take him.

Tall girls netball friend brought her younger sister who pleaded to stay.

I agreed because it might entertain Small Sprog (they are same age and good friends) in the hope he would not bother the older ones.

That plan failed!

Tall Girl and friends came down to the level of the 9 year olds and shrieked around the house until the food was ready!

I didn't have enough pizza for the 2 extra mouths, so they had mine and I had no tea!

Mother of Two Boys turned up to do her thing. She brought out all her pots and palettes, shadows and shimmers, there were ooos and ahhhs, and then...peace reigned.

Small Sprog and friend played on the Wii

I was so pleased to have Mother of Two Boys there, I felt less alone. She is a good friend and her presence relaxed me.

By 9 o clock I was exhausted! The older ones had been cleansed, toned and were tastefully made up, whilst Small Sprog was in overdrive due to tiredness! We sang 'happy birthday' and then cut the cake. By 9.15 I was trying to herd them into the car to take them home. It had been a wonderful 4 hours of fun, Tall Girl and I didn't want it to end.

Small Sprog is busy...

Small Sprog is busy. He has been pestering to make a 'house' out of a shoe box for a while now. He started it last weekend, making the inside of the first box into his bedroom, crafting the bed, shelves and accessories to go inside out of cardboard. It has absorbed him. He has finished his room and now needs an extension!

When I was his age I used to do the same thing, making rooms from boxes, then farms and some fields from those old polystyrene ceiling tiles we used to have in the '70's, painting them green and putting matchstick fences around to keep the pretend animals in. I know this may be taking some imagination, but stick with me for a moment!

Anyway, I remember the whole thing got so big that I had to store it under my bed. One day when I came home from school, I went to my room to get it out and it was gone. Mum had 'tidied' my room. To her it had just been a load of old boxes and tiles, junk. To me it had been my reality. I can remember being very upset, and I'm sure she was to when she realised.

So, Small Sprogs boxes will not meet the same fate. I always ask both of them before throwing out any of their things, though it is tough with Small Sprog, because he is a hoarder.

Today he added another box. It was going to be his sisters room. He thoughtfully made things to go inside. It was very different from his own cardboard room. He made her a lamp, necklace holder, and a pretty rug. Bless him, and he did it all with thought and care as though bestowing real gifts on her.

When Husband arrived home we were all in the kitchen. Small Sprog gave him a guided tour of the box house. "This is my room, this is Tall Girls room" he said excitedly "Next I'm going to make mummy's room and a toilet and then downstairs....."

I carried on with preparing the meal, but inside I smiled.Perhaps it was a slip of the mind, but his description didn't include daddy's room. Perhaps Small Sprog is looking forward to having 'our' house as much as I am? I hope so.

From child to teenager in 24 hours!

Today it is Tall Girls 13th birthday! Goodness me, 13 years ago today I was slightly scared and in some pain! Was it really that long ago? It doesn't seem like it...until you look at her!

She is almost as tall as me now and it is hard to imagine that she was only 6lb and 13oz 13 years ago today. Quite a miracle when you think of it, and I am very fortunate and grateful that she has grown strong and healthy, despite being picky and now fairly attached to junk food!

When I dropped her off to go and run a stall at the local church hall on Saturday, we were a little late. As I parked the car I urged her to run in quickly, so as to be to too late.

She kissed me goodbye, got out of the car, and off she went. Did she run? Did she ****, she didn't even manage a trot. Off she sloped, tall shoulders hunched, scuffing along at snails pace.

I looked at her and 'tutted' to myself. She needed a rocket under her backside, I thought and then I just laughed out loud. How I remember my mother saying the same of me. How I remember, even in my first job, being told that I must move faster, with a sense of urgency if possible! Poor girl, there's no hope!

Happy Birthday Tall Girl

13 today x

Love from your mum

PS. This is not her cake! Though I wish I was clever enough to create one similar to it. Hers is chocolate, made by Granny as always. Chocolate always goes down well. I will miss mum not being here for her birthday, the first day since Tall Girls birth, that she has been absent for either her birthday or her party. Times change, things move on.

Sunday.

I sat in the car today for an hour on the Downs this morning. The rain was pattering on the window and the rusty leaves of the Horse Chestnut trees blew around me in the breeze. It is Rememberence Sunday, it always makes me cry. The sky was crying too. Lest we forget.

Fireworks.

In the car, on the way to school this morning, Small Sprog was getting excited about going to see the firework display. "Daddy wants to take me too" He said.

"Oh" I reply. I was really hoping that it would just be the three of us, I wasn't sure I could stand us all going together.

"He said he really wants to go, can't we all go together?" Said Small Sprog

Poor thing, he is so torn between us, he wants to please us both, he wants to be fair. I couldn't tell him why I wanted it to be just the three of us, I couldn't tell him what Daddy had planned; do you realise that daddy wants to split you and your sister up for three or four days a week? That is what I wanted to say, but obviously I couldn't.

We did all go together. Tall Girl took her friend, for company or protection against the storm, I'm not sure which. For some reason, although my car is tiny, I felt the need to drive us all, something about being in control I guess.

They were superb fireworks and a great display, despite being very delayed and all the 'tiny ones' in the audience heckling with fake countdowns and singing a very rare version of 'why are we waiting'! My children stayed close, I was worried I would lose them in more ways than one, but I did not. We 'Oooohed' and Ahhhhhhed' and smiled and laughed. I hardly noticed Husband at the back.

Afterwards there were hot dogs, they taste better on firework night than any other night of the year. We each ate one, struggling with the soggy onions and the oozing sauce, mmmmm, they were very good indeed! Then someone wanted another. Husband went to get some more, he asked me if I wanted one, he used my name, not shortened as some of my friends do and he used to do, but all of it. It sounded so strange on his lips, sharp and unfamiliar. I declined, but strangely I realised that if someone else had asked me, I'd have probably said yes.

As we walked back to the car, Small Sprog and I glimpsed one more firework, a stray from another, more distant display. It exploded into a huge golden ball which shone and sparkled like a thousand golden stars, and then we heard the bang of it. It looked like it should have had a noise he said. He is a firework expert now!

The fireworks were some of the most beautiful I have seen for a long time, I loved sharing them with my children, but all the time I was looking up at them, I couldn't help thinking that I would have liked to have shared them with someone else, who wasn't there.

The green Post-it Note

In a shop after school yesterday, Small Sprog fell in love with a pad of bright green Post-it Notes. He looked at me in his endearing way and I fell for it instantly, buying them for him in a trice. "What on earth are you going to do with post-it notes?" I say as I reach into my bag for the money. He grins.

"Mummy, can I have something to eat?" He asks when we arrive home.

"I'll get you something in a minute" I reply, as I turn on the laptop in the kitchen and settle down to a little bit of reading.

I get absorbed reading this article and faffing around with Twitter.

A while later Small Sprog appears next to me in the kitchen. He -for once- says nothing. He doesn't need to. He stands and stares at me, trying not to smile. His presence is distracting, I give him a sideways look and burst into laughter. His face is hidden, his gaze cast downward, because, stuck to his forehead is a bright green post-it note. On the note, in his wobbly writing is

just one word...Hungry!

Just how does he think of it?

Things have felt good for too long now...

I can't bear that he's home again ( Husband has been away for 4 days) and I have to be in the same room with him and even speak. I can't bear his smugness. I can't bear that I have single handedly looked after this house for 9 years and now he thinks he can have it all for himself. I want to shout at him and hurt him, yet I have to be calm and say nothing. It has all of a sudden become a living nightmare from which I feel I cannot escape from unscathed.

I have discovered why Husband won't put the house on the market. He thinks he can afford to buy me out, but not even give me half of what it is worth. He also wants to have custody of Tall Girl every other week but not Small Sprog. How can he THINK of splitting them up like that? He wants 50% custody of Tall Girl and 33% Small Sprog. How can he care for them in the week? How can he be there at the end of the school day and be there to take them to school in the morning? Will he rely on childminders? He will have to. I am angry, and very very sad. HOW CAN HE? I can't contemplate loosing my children, but I suppose he feels the same. I have sacrificed a career to be there for them before and after the school day, and all for what? For him to let them be 'latch key' kids. I will fight, but I am terrified. I am crying

Confusd of Suburbia

All back to school today, including myself. Well, it should be. Tall Girl is fussing about feeling ill. She has no physical signs of illness, no temperature, no runny nose, she has not been sick, she is eating and went out to Guides last night. If anything at all she may be a little overtired.

I have the distinct feeling she is trying to miss school, but why? That is the bit that worries me. Is it a particular lesson she is trying to avoid, is there homework that she hasn't completed? She is a closed book, she will not let on. At the breakfast table this morning Small Sprog piped up, as I was trying to sort her out, "Perhaps she's being bullied" I have to say I think this is doubtful, as she seems to have really enjoyed school recently but I guess I should take it into consideration.

As he said it she burst into tears. She said she was, and then she said that she wasn't, she said she was being teased but couldn't tell me why. I suspect its all to do with having a boy friend, she doesn't know I know about him. When I ask who's teasing her she says it is her best friend. I get cross, mostly because I don't know what to believe. I suggest that she crosses the best friends name off the party list for next week.

So Small Sprog and I are off to school, and I am letting her stay at home. If I thought she was really ill I'd stay at home with her, but I don't think she's going to vomit or pass out. However I am uneasy about the whole thing. I am cross with myself that I didn't make her go to school. If she gets away with it today will she try to pull a sicky again? I don't like her missing a whole day for nothing, and will I disbelieve her next time when she's really ill? Am I cross because she's got the better of me?!

Confused of

PS. I missed my 400th post, this is my 402nd!