Tests

Today was.....interesting.

Friday morning I cuddled the Minis extra hard and long and wished them a wonderful week with their Father. I went to work, handed in my notice (that's a whole new post!) and spent the afternoon in the sunshine. Saturday and Sunday were uneventful but lovely - wine, sunshine and friends featured heavily.

Monday, today, I got up early. At 7.30am there was a knock at the door. Standing on the doorstep was VeryPregnantFriend, ready to take me off to hospital.

Now don't panic, nothing is seriously wrong. I just had tests to see what exactly is causing me pain when I eat. It's called a Gastroscopy. They sedate you, push a camera down your throat, you try not to claw off their faces and then when you come round they feed you tea and digestive biscuits.

Easy really.

They didn't tell me the sedative would be quite so strong.

Parenting

 

I thought it would be hard work pushing out a baby.

I thought it was hard work being a parent when F went blue at 12 hours old.

I thought it was hard work being a parent when L was born early and an interesting shade of citrine.

I thought it was really hard work being a parent when my children said goodbye to their father when he left for another country and another woman.

I knew it was really hard work being a parent when we went through sleepless nights, Chicken Pox, German Measles, Foot & Mouth, Swine Flu and other assorted illnesses, concussions, falls and choking fits.

What I never expected was how hard it would be to be the parent of a child approaching teenagehood. A girl awash with hormones and emotions she doesn't understand or know how to express. Poor F. And poor me. She didn't come with a manual so I'm at a total loss. I've just about got childhood parenting sorted. I know how to use my magic kisses to make scrapes and sores better. I can handle being woken on the hour, every hour during the night and then going to work in the morning. I know how to make all sorts of interesting craft items out of cardboard loo roll innards, sellotape, foil and some cotton wool. I can create an "Easter Bonnet" from rubbish fished out of the bin. I can whip up a costume at 5 minutes notice for BookDay without breaking a sweat. There are so many things I have learnt how to do and have mastered to what even I, with my high standards, think are rather fabulous!

So of course,  now it's the time to start something new. Something I don't understand at all. I'm lost. At an utter loss. I am broken already and apparently I've only just started to feel the pain. TEENAGERS. I thought I liked and understood them. As a teacher I spend most of my time with them and I love their sassy attitude, their refusal to accept the status quo, their pushiness, their hilarious moods, their....... and now I live with one. I live with a child who is becoming a teen. Who has hormones coming out of her ears. She is getting spotty and (unless I nag) smelly. Her vocabulary now consists of a huge proportion of "like", "sor'ov", "y'know", "LOOOOOOSER!" and "S'not FAIR!". I am not ready for this.

I AM NOT READY FOR THIS....

Today F and I had a standoff about deceit. About going out to see a friend in one set of clothes and returning in another, less suitable set of clothes. I don't really mind what she wears because I still pay for the clothes and therefore have the largest say in what she chooses. I mind that she felt the need to hide the other clothes in her bag and pretend to me that she wasn't going to wear them. There was no reason for it - I don't understand why she did it. It's just the latest in a long line of pointless, petty lies (which the marvellous @smartie999 says I need to refer to as "fibs" so they hurt me less). She never gains anything from not telling the truth. It's practically the only thing I get really aerated about.

So why do it? And why, when you know you'll get into trouble, KEEP ON doing it?

Lovely @andromedababe says all mothers cry over their children sometimes, and I know she's right. I'm just so unprepared for all of this. So unprepared and so unready. Why can't she just stay as the darling, honest, funny, beautiful, fabulous child I know and love. I still love her just as much, I'm just not ready to let go of her childhood. She's only 10..... Surely it never started this early before?

I'm so glad L is still young enough to need my magic kisses.

(ps: Thank you to all my wonderful Twitter friends who offered support and understanding today while I flailed around wildly. I appreciate your input more than you know. xx @moonflowerchild @dottyfinlow @grayhamjam @sirblimelywindy @katebielby @ellaboheme @mandsywoo @ariadnes_web @deililly @smiliemommy @mariam_kobras @look_mama @titianred @joanneh234 @washmysocks @ozgirlnc @mr_geoff @porridgebrain @riggerthegeek @voiceovergirl )

Rage

I apologise.

Unreservedly and totally I apologise for the ranting and the internal screaming and the wailing and the gnashing of teeth which has been occurring over the last few weeks. It's rather like a low level breakdown which is going on in the background of everything else. Not demanding attention, not creating a fuss, just ongoing and exhausting. Today I even had to leave Twitter alone for a bit so that I didn't drive everyone away with my impotent rage.

I'm raging at everything at the moment, life, inequality, female rights being eroded worldwide, Minis refusing to get ready for school on time, the grey and miserable weather, our relative poverty, the chance of me finding a decent job without moving house again, my horridly unhelpful stomach giving me constant pain and nausea, other people. 

Yes, other people. They've really been getting up my nose recently. Other people with their needs and emotions and offers of help and kindness and opinions. Oh, the endless bloody OPINIONS. 

(You can probably tell by the SHOUTY CAPITALS that I'm still feeling the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I'm trying to contain it, but it keeps seeping out.)

I don't really know why I'm so angry, except that I haven't eaten properly for ages (coming into my 6th week now), I can't seem to get enough sleep, I have no energy, my job is physically demanding and financially not remunerative enough to counter the waves of dread which overcome me whenever I consider my bank balance. Are those good enough reasons to be raging? I don't know. I don't normally feel like this. It's alien to me.

There are other symptoms too; an utter lack of sex drive, interest in others or ability to follow the plotline of any book or film. In fact concentrating on anything is bloody hard at the moment and I appear to lack the desire to do so anyway. 

I am raging at the rage, impotently shouting into the great buffeting wind of life as it races over and around me, utterly impervious to my attempts to make it stop and consider my pain and anger. It doesn't care. That's a hard lesson to learn. That even when you feel that you are being broken into a thousand tiny matchsticks as a wooden house in the force of a tornado, life doesn't care. It doesn't even notice. I think that's when we know we're really grown up. When we can access and appreciate the uncaring, unloving universe and understand that it is intrinsically neither good nor evil, it has no weighted value system as we humans do. It cares not for my ability to pay my mortgage, get up in the mornings, care for my children, feed myself or any other petty and mundane normal lifelong chores to which we are all subject.

Still there is no answer. I shout into the distance and the trees and hills echo back to me the sound of my own pointless rage. I think at this point I need to stop. I must accept things for what and how they are. I must try harder to conquer my generally high level of irritability and see the beauty in the people and the world around me. 

I don't want to. I want to shout and stamp my feet and scream and scream till I'm sick. 

What price maturity??

5 Things You Didn't Know About Me Before (and probably didn't want to) .....

Chasing the meme that is 5 Things, I was amused to read Mostly Yummy Mummy's blogpost. While I can't lay claim to a cassette tape of JUST "Especially for You", I can come up with 5 facts for you to find uninteresting over your morning coffee.

1.  I have twice signed the Official Secrets Act. Yes, I know how funny that is.

2.  In my humble (and fairly twisted) opinion a beard is normally an improvement to a man's looks. Unless you're George Michael. The "Ladies and Gentlemen" cover was a travesty. I fancy you MUCH more now George. xx

3.  Favourite cake: Coffee and Walnut. Don't hate me.


4.  I don't like ice-cream and never have, much to the chagrin of my G'pa. I know, "Weirdo!".


5.  I've played the violin since I was 2yo. Sadly this has not been of any use to humankind.


p.s. Extra unwarranted fact:


6.  Making lists is my favourite pastime.

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Going to join the meme? Go on - you know you want to!