Gone, but not forgotten

Hello.

Life being what it is I'm overly busy. I will come back, maybe when the things I want to say are less provocative or difficult.

Maybe I'll talk about my love of dog walks in the cold winter months. Maybe I'll talk about not seeing daylight for 3 months of this year. Maybe I'll just post pictures of cakes and gin.

Who knows?

Harvest

Hello there.

I think I'd forgotten about you. Or just pushed you to the bottom of the pile. There's been a lot in the pile of late. Legal shizzle. Worrying. Lie awake at night and count the number of hours till work starts again kind of worrying. It's not going to go away though. Not unless I give in - and I will never again be that scared little person who gives in to bullies.

Never.

Instead I'm going to join the local Amateur Operatic Society and ham it up at every given opportunity. I've cancelled my internet dating subscription. Decided I'd rather get on with my life as it is. It's made me (mostly) happier already and I only actually finally decided all of this today. The Minis are supportive and that's all that matters.

And as one darling person on twitter put it "They don't make Zimmer frames for two, y'know!". @rosamundi, I love you! Next London trip - you are mine for at least one gin-sodden session. Preferably with added groundling factor.

So today I took the Minis to Harvest Festival at the church I attended as a child, was married in and where both the girls were christened. It's utterly and spectacularly beautiful, so I thought I'd share it with you.

This is my Harvest offering. My first portion. Enjoy it.

 

And now, just for me, do as you're told :

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 )

Sunday

It was beautiful today. I thought you'd prefer pictures to words:

Happy Sunday!

Reconstruction

I've neglected my blog lately. Real Life has jumped in with all sorts of unwelcome events and made it very difficult to make my mind work in any focused direction. 

There has been a tragic and sudden death, an emotionally illiterate (now ex) boyfriend, a fruitless job search and a debilitating illness which won't go away.

However, I've decided that I can't keep wallowing. It is time to get back up and get on. Time to reconstruct my life and head in a direction of my choosing, rather than letting other people make the choices for me. For too long I have reacted to other people's needs, and not considered that the best way to make others happy is to make yourself happy too. 

Spring is springing. I have daffodils in my kitchen, washing hanging on the line, chooks laying and windows open. It is March 2012. If the Mayans were correct, I may only have a few months left to do everything I want to do with my life. If they were wrong, I can't regret making the most out of this year. 

So I'm lifting my chin, taking my happy pills, getting some earlier nights and refusing to believe that this is all there is out there for me.

Wish me luck chaps - and if you hear of a fabulous job you think I'd be great for, tell me please!

Remembering Beloved.......

I haven't written anything for a while. It's been Christmas, and New Year and holidays and busy, but also there has been sadness. Grandpa, the most complex person in my family, died suddenly on the 18th of December. He was 93. He had had a chest infection, but he was not ill, or very weak, and so it was a shock to us when during the afternoon, he simply coughed and died.

It was a quiet ending, full of roast beef and whisky and contentment. The last six months without Grandma had been very peaceful for him. He read books for the first time in his life, became much gentler, and finally, on the morning of the day he died told Pa that he loved him.

How wonderful.

What a fantastic ending. If you have to go, what a kindly way to be taken.

We miss him. Particularly because he had begun to be such a lovely man again. Lucky us to have had that time.

Sad to see you go Grandpa. Sweet dreams.