Meet Morrison

Morrison is Max’s tadpole. Our friend gave us three, two have since perished and are buried in the lawn somewhere. We’ve had Morrison for a couple of weeks now and he’s 50% larger than when he first arrived. He lives in our garden, in a Tupperware container with leaves from a pond. Max named him Morrison as I suspect that was the first word that came into Max’s head when asked what his tadpole’s name was. Max has only ever heard the name Morrison in connection with the supermarket but I like to think that our tadpole is named after Jim Morrison, whose music and lyrics I’m a big fan of, whose rock and roll life fascinates me and his morbid, early death even moreso...

We are eagerly awaiting Morrison to grow legs (but not a beard)

Max and I in the car recently: Starsailor were playing on my iPod and I mentioned that it was a ‘nice song’.

‘Hmmm’ agreed Max, ‘and very relaxing’.

I smiled, I love it when the boys use adjectives.

‘What does relaxing mean to you Max?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s like sunbathing. But not on the beach. It’s when you let your body go all floppy’.

I smiled again, I like that.

Bank Holiday

I’m writing this at the tail end of a lovely ten days off work; I’ve absolutely loved being at home with the boys (including MM's), especially as mum’s at home so I’ve been able to keep an eye on her. She even insisted on taking us all out for a meal, which we enjoyed with Harriet and Rob.

Since my previous post an offer that we made on a different house has been accepted, which threw our minds into chaos as we’d have to choose which property we'd be happiest living in. Very, very pleasant situation to be in but also very difficult as the two houses are quite different. We were still undecided on Sunday so took all the boys to have a look at both. It’s now Tuesday evening and we are still not completely decided, ffs!!!

Yesterday we took our minds off things and went to Lydden race track to watch the rally cross races – boy those cars are quick! We had a great day out with sunshine and a picnic and below is a couple of my favourite pics that we took of the day:

Not content with sitting in the queue to get out of the grounds we entertained ourselves with races:

Ellis and Jack cheating unashamedly...

Finally on the move out and Jack took photos of objects that he found interesting. He's 7...

Big sky by Jack....

Good times!

Our house, in the middle of our street

Wowsers, as Leaf would say, it's been a crazy week. My mum's now home, with a c-pap unit which she'll have to use every night for the rest of her life. It is upsetting, I feel awful for her but at least her condition is now being managed. Hopefully her quality of life will now improve with the use of this machine, giving her more energy and less memory loss. Her bloods were tested and are good today and she appears quite cheery.

Next: I have sold my house! Twice! I accepted an offer on my house last week and then yesterday another person put a higher offer in....ffs, it's become quite a bidding war, which is a grand result for us. Makes all the work we put in worth the ball ache.

Next: We've bought a BH. Yes we have!! We offered on a new build, five bed which was accepted last night, whilst MM and me were having a cheeky drink in the pub. The house isn't in our favourite location but the living space inside is just about big enough for seven of us....I jest, it's great, and I feel very, very lucky. The house is ready to move into, it looks like a doll's house, with a lovely big kitchen, bedroom for each boy, loads of loos so no more waiting in turn and has a sunnyish garden which I can't wait to grow tomatoes and peppers in. I'm a happy bunny, all the agro has been worth it and I'm now coming through the other side, holding hands with MM.

Can't wait to be woken up with his snoring every morning.

Max is ironing, I’m (sitting down for a change and) watching the build up to the Boat Race, don’t care who wins but I do like looking at the very strong men....

Max strikes up a convo:

‘Mum, do you know what a soul is?’

‘I’m not sure, what is it?’

‘It's a little ghost inside your body and when you die it stays there and makes you good. I think.’

Cool, that’s explained then.

I have just re-read my last entry, I sounded so happy, and I was. Unfortunately just hours later my mum was ambulanced to hospital, after blacking out and falling three times. She often does and this is usually put down to her heart condition, atrial fibrillation. My sis and I went with mum to hospital and stayed with her until gone 10pm. She was admitted with respiratory failure but we didn’t know why. A week later she’s still there and we still don’t know why her heart and lungs don’t work properly. She’s been on a ventilator this week and has responded to that but I’m hoping to goodness that this can be managed without her needing to be on a machine for the rest of her life. She didn’t suffer any broken bones this time, but did sprain her ankle badly. Mum’s been on a heart monitor all week, has had CT scans, xrays, blood tests and echo scans – hopefully will have some news soon. Yesterday she started hobbling round the ward.

I haven’t taken the boys to see her as she’s on a heart ward with some very poorly people (I saw a very old lady dying a couple of days ago) but the boys have been very patient with me, dropping them off here and there, up and down the M20, eating rushed dinners and not having any clean clothes or exciting pack lunches.

Poor mum, she lives alone, is very unwell, disabled and is only 56. She called me mum the other day, broke my heart. Get well soon mum, we’ve got to plant your summer seeds.

Mother's Day!

This is a first this year; I’m sitting on my patio, in the sunshine, with lappie and nettle tea, the cat, sans plaster, is sitting next to me and we’re both squinting in the sunlight. I have washing gently swaying on the line, I can smell my earthy garden, can hear children playing a few doors away and some poor soul is hoovering. I can hear birds too, I get a lot of birds in my back garden.

So I woke up this morning, with cat, and the house was quiet at 7.30am. I am cooking a big roast for my mum and sister later so I got up to put the joint (pork actually) in the oven. Whilst waiting for the oven to heat up I emptied the washing machine, pegged out some clothes, emptied the bin, put more laundry on, tidied up the bit of mess from last night’s (Wierd Walker’s) crisps/red wine/curry fest and then made myself a cup of strong coffee and a cup of nettle tea and took both back to bed.

Within the hour I could hear stirrings and before long I could hear clanking coming from the kitchen – and the microwave kept pinging!!!! Nobody, I mean NOBODY, but myself ever uses the microwave so I got excited realising that Mother’s day was not forgotten and that I was going to have a feast brought to me in my bed! Half an hour went by, the microwave pinging every minute or so. Nothing was brought to me and so I waited patiently in bed, with my lappie reading the sad news of the day. A good time later my entire brood walked in, in a varying state of undress, Eli carrying toast and coffee, Max with cards (see pic!) and flowers and chocs and Luke with a hyacinth pot and floating candles....ah, I grin as I am pleased and they’re happy because I look happy with their gifts.

‘So what was being made in the microwave?’ I ask.

Eli explained that he tried to make me scrambled egg ‘but it turned out wrong’. Hmmm, probably something to do with the fact that he nuked the egg for about half an hour, but no matter. Jam and Marmite are lovely.

It's blooming March already!

I've been rubbish, I've been busy, I'm trying to catch up:

My Ellis has gone away for a few days on an adventure weekend with his class – he’ll be rock climbing and swimming and high rope walking...having a ball, I bet. He was looking forward to it and I’m pleased that he’s having a good time away from the daily grind of battling for attention with his brothers, and from me nagging him to tidy his room....

My Luke is looking for work (!) He has put his name down for a paper round, he’s been valeting our cars and my friend, Mrs B, has offered him a job clearing her garden. I think, at last, Lukey is realising the value of work, money, autonomy and consequence.

My Max makes me laugh. He tells me that he’s going to go to church with his class and that he’ll be singing hymns. I tell him that I love singing hymns (takes me right back to an innocent life) and he says ‘You love hymns more than your boyfriend?’

MM and I have been very busy tarting up my house. MM has been smoothing walls and sanding down and painting and filling. The house is still up for sale, you see – to enable MM and me to have a home together – but I’ve had no offers so we’re splashing the cash to interest potential buyers. And we now have a master bedroom, and new carpets and windows on order, watch this space.

My puss broke a toe and is in plaster. He’s been housebound, which has driven the poor feline nuts – he looks a right nobber with his leg in plaster, see pic below!

And then there’s me. At time of writing I am angry and disappointed that my ex has chosen Mother’s Day to use as an excuse to have a dig at me; I thought that all of the bickering and bitching was behind us. I’m not a massive fan of mother’s day, or father’s day for that matter, (neither my mum or dad are the conventional ‘be there for you’ parent) but I would like to think that my own efforts, hard work and tribulations are recognised on one day of the year. Now thanks to my bitter ex my boys won’t get the opportunity to buy me a card, which is going to be embarrassing for them, and all because their dad won’t face up to the fact that I’m doing an OK job. Bugger him, I don’t need his validation, do I?

Kitchen chit chat

Here’s a transcript of a conversation I overheard on Friday whilst the boys were in the kitchen washing up:

Luke: Oh my god Ellis, just wait till you get to secondary school.

Ellis: Why?

Luke: Just because you won’t know what to do.

Ellis: What do you mean?

Luke: Well, girls.

Ellis: Girls? Have you kissed one?

Luke: Der! Yeah course I have.

Ellis: Really? No you didn’t.

Luke: Course I have.

Ellis: On the lips?

Luke: Yeah.

Ellis: Have you tongued them?

Max: I kissed a girl

Luke: Oh yeah, of course tongues.

Ellis: Really?

Luke: Yep, but it’s got to be a good friend, you only ask one of the girls that you’re close to.

Ellis: Who are your friends? You’re not close with any girls!

Luke: Yeah I am, and you kiss them and give them a cuddle afterwards.

Ellis: Do you?

Max: I did, I kissed a girl.

Luke: And then you ask to see their boobs and then they ask to see your balls.

Ellis: Really?

Max: I kissed a girl.

Luke: No, not really but the kissing bit’s true.

Max: I kissed mum.

Starting over

Lynbo commented on my previous posts about selling up (wave to Lynn) and I just need to clarify things on here.

Regarding selling up, viewing is strictly by appointment only, ie ,when I'm at work and the ‘viewers’ can comment on my home when I can’t hear them. I won’t ever meet the people who look around my home, sneering at the carpets that need replacing or the single glazed windows (I do have some double glazed but the rear half of my house is stuck in the 50s). I won’t ever hear their comments about my dark coloured kitchen units (fucking expensive Sagga ones actually, not to everyone’s taste, granted, but quality nonetheless) or that the bathroom is titchy (I’ll have you know that all four of us, yes FOUR of us, do our hair/make up/teeth in that bathroom together every morning!). I won’t, thank a god, hear the words ‘No, it’s not for me, I’ll make an offer on the other house I saw’.

But hang on a minute. I bought this house so I'm pretty hopeful that someone else will also fall in love with it. Someone else will see its charm and will appreciate the big rooms. Another person will see the early tulips bulbs poking through the soil and will see my peony budding and the early signs of hydranga’s blooms. I know that before its time is over another family will live here, enjoy a baby’s first Christmas, maybe even another birth, first steps, first school.

I bought this house with love, my children were conceived, born and brought up here. My marriage started and ended here. I learnt to cook here. I fumbled around in the garden here until I learnt which plants grew where. I scraped wallpaper off every single wall (and some ceilings) and papered and painted every square inch myself at some point over the years. I’ve had 15 Christmases here, 15 birthdays and many, many more children’s parties here. I’ve cried here and I’ve died here and I’ve worked my balls off to pay the mortgage to stay here, working every second I had, cleaning toilets, ironing shirts, transcribing shitty tapes and scrubbing classroom floors. I worked in the office when my baby was 7 weeks old so that I had enough cash to keep our house going, putting Max into nursery when he was 3 months old because I would have been damned if I was going to claim benefits and get evicted. Oh yes, I will be sad to go Lynn, I cry every single time I think about having to walk out of here for the last time but in all honestly this house has given me everything anyone could ever want and it’s made me who I am. But it’s not perfect so I don’t expect everyone to love it.

Besides, I'm on the way to a life with MM, and so I'm happy to give up Chez Nous to build a new one with my man.

Awww, shucks, didn’t realise I was such a softie, don't tell anyone!

Driving six year olds

I was driving home after school with Max, aged 6 and James, aged 6 also, in the back of the car. When I have kids in the car my music goes off and I keep one ear very firmly on what they’re talking about, purely for entertainment purposes. Here’s Friday’s conversation from the back seat.

‘I know what those Ls are on cars’ says James.

‘Me too’ says Max, ‘it means Learner’.

‘No it doesn’t,’ retorts James, ‘it means Losers'.

(They’re 6 remember)

‘Hahahaha, yeah, yeah, Loooooooserrrrrrrs’ enthuses Max.

‘Oh look, there's a AA Loser’

‘Hahahahaha’

‘AA means Alphabet Loser’ says James, ‘Yeah, Axceptional Alphabet Loser’.

‘Hahahahaha’
All the way home…. :-))

Welcome Sister Bliss

Welcome to Sister Bliss!

Yesterday I was telling my sister about the fannying about I’ve been doing every morning to get the house ship shape for [potential] viewings…doing the washing up, fluffing up the cushions, cleaning the loo, taking the pants and socks off the radiators (whether they were dry or not), and even making the beds. I also, in my paranoia, took the tatty laundry basket to work with me as I didn’t want to leave it on the landing for all and sundry to see. (I didn’t actually take it in the office tho, it just sat on the back seat of the car all day). Harriet, my lovely sister, agreed that when her house was on the market she, too, used to do this, texting me:

‘OMG, that’s what we did with our laundry basket and our coats, shoes and, get this sis, the fucking hamster!’

Day 2 on the property housing market. So far one porch rebuilt, one mahooosive clean up, one new flat roof, one viewing and one rejection. Hmmm, my home is like a child to me, I’ve done my utmost to keep it with us; my house looks the best it has for a very long time and rejections play on my emotions, speshilly at this time of the month. Onwards and upwards. Max has asked which house we’ll move to. I told him that I don’t know yet and he requested that we live at a house with a number one on the front door…and I thought his priorities would be somewhat more expansive than that.

Luke's been in a bit of hot water at (secondary) school and is learning some harsh lessons in responsibility and how a bad attitude ruins lives. (NB, the bad attitude displays itself to one teacher/subject only, but stroppy sighs and answering back will get him nowhere). Gosh, it's so hard for him being so young and frustrated at the world. I have spoken to him, given him an older opinion, an unbiased view, have tried to be objective and I do encourage him to remain positive but I can only stand by and watch him learn all this stuff himself. And of course he doesn't believe me that it will be OK in the end, kids don't believe it. Ah well, I guess it's only so hard for us as we're reliving the same pain and angst all over again, brings it all racing home at just how difficult fitting in to the world can be. Being so young means being out of control and god knows I hate that feeling and I'm 36. Still, let's hope we all feel happy in our place somewhere.

I'm currently listening to Richard Bona, thank you Dad.

Happiest New Year

Ahhh, I haven’t made an entry for a month. I have dipped in and out of virtualland but have also been very busy. Lots to remember, lots to tell, lots to get down on this keyboard so that I can read back with a big smile in my heart.

Christmas and New Year was lovely. MM and I were childless for a week over Christmas – my boys spent the festive time with their dad (they had a ball) – and so we had a very happy adult time, precious time together. We spent it at Marin’s flat, he bought a tree and smelly candles, and my mum joined us for the big dinner. We ate cheese, opened pressies (I was spoiled) we drank good wine, snuggled a lot, ate wonderful food, listened to great music, got evacuated cos of a fire in the apartment below (!) and (apart from the fire) generally had a stress free time. We then went to the Midlands to stay with The Cotton Tops and took MM’s boys. That, too, was stress free and homely and as a Christmas holiday should be and I actually read a book, yep, I really had time, in between eating, drinking and going to the panto, to actually read (Anthony Bourdain, A Cook’s Tour, great stuff).

Then home again and my boys came back and we spent New Year’s Eve, with MM, playing Monopoly and drinking more good wine and champagne. And it was about this time that we (I say we, I mean MM) started rebuilding my porch/front door. Why do that sort of DIY at this time of year when it’s barmy to paint in freezing temperatures, I hear you ask. Well it’s cos just before Christmas MM and I decided something, something monumental actually, something very exciting and something that will challenge my resolute independence that I’ve exercised, and my boys have suffered, for 7 years. We are going to buy a house together, get a home for all 7 of us! So explains the DIY, as there are some jobs that need to be done before viewing of my house can commence, although that’s nearly all complete and whilst MM has been rebuilding my wooden front door and porch I have filled two cars with crap out of my garden/house which is massively cathartic.

All of the boys seem happy with the idea of one big house (or BH as well refer to it as). Seeing as this is the only home that any of my children have known (Ellis was actually born in his own bedroom) they are unbelievably keen to up sticks and share with a Man, albeit one they know very well and who is very kindly to them – the four of us have been through a lot together and I'm very pleased that they’re not going to be precious about our dynamics changing and are looking forward to being part of a big family 24/7….afterall, have 5 boys and we’ll laugh even more!

I work in an office five days a week. I live 6 miles from the office and I usually drive. In summer months I cycle, when time allows. I enjoy work, but it is work, not a party, and I love my home but that, too, is tiring and often stressful. But inbetween work and home I enjoy this:

I took these this morning. Every single day I feel completely overwhelmed with how lucky I am to have that view into work every morning. (And no, I don’t work in France!)

The Max Effect

Max is six. He doesn’t have BO and he doesn’t have underarm hair. And yet he’s taken to applying deodorant every morning. And no, he doesn’t have any, but he waits for his brother to leave their shared room and then has a quick spritz of Eli’s under his arms. OVER his clothes!! I know this because I caught sight of two white circles of cold, wet Lynx on the pits of his royal blue school sweater….

Oh well, I thought, it’ll wash out and he’s going off to school feeling just that little bit older and more sophisticated than the other 6 year olds in his class so I let him get in the car not saying any more about it. However (!) it wasn’t until he was getting out of the car at school that I noticed a white circle of Lynx on his, um, crotch area! I do hope Emily was impressed with his grooming!!

I'm back in bloggyland. The last week or so have been filled with Eli and Max learning their Christmas play songs and, in Eli’s case, his lines. Max is playing – I say playing, I mean representing, as he has no lines to say – Joseph, which he’s made up with cos he’s always wanted to be a carpenter, apparently. And Eli’s class is doing Cinderella Rockafella and he’s an ugly sister, which, if you know Ellis, will sound right up his street – camp and pantomime are his middle names. I cannot wait to see both plays, I know all the kids in their classes and I just fall in love with them every Christmas. They all put their little hearts into their performances, I was never so confident as a child, my flame haired, spinster music teacher used to should shout ferociously at the girls for not having such lovely singing voices as the boys, knocked my confidence and so never enjoyed being on the stage myself…

Luke’s apparently been entered into a school singing competition by his teacher. He and a few friends have to sing a ‘really old song, by someone called Queen’. I sang a few lines of Bohemian Rhapsody and he exclaimed that that was the song he has to perform. Good luck with that then Spooks!!

I’ve started Christmas shopping. I’ve decided that, having got three kids, I cannot avoid it. So I have decided to, er embrace it. I'm old school I'm afraid, brought up a Catholic (although not practising now, can you imagine?!) but Christmas for me is a sacred time and I get right hacked off with all the commercialism of it all. For instance if there are to be decorations to be hung then they’ll be Victorian and traditional and there will not be a Liverpool Football Club advent calendar anywhere in my house!!! And if I see fit to buy presents for people it might well not come off their ‘lists’ (when did it become normal for adults to compose Christmas present lists?). I believe that Christmas is about giving, not expecting. Anyhooo, I’ve been asked what I would like to receive so I’ve voiced some suggestions, all very girlie, all very decorative, all very shallow and self indulgent, so what does that say?!

Times are hard, especially with Christmas coming up, these last two weeks I’ve been working my tits off for very little, if any, recognition and I'm now facing tough times ahead, for me and my little ones. When I try to do the best I can and I get knocked down then it’s hard to see any further than my nose, not a great feeling when I have to be the grown up sensible one. I’ve felt defeated recently, isolated and completely tested to the hilt. And then one day I was driving home with Ellis and his mate, in the back of the car and they were joyous about the football match that their team had just won. I heard them talk about one particular little boy on their team who scored an own goal – didn’t make any difference cos our school won by about 8 goals, but the own goal scorer burst into tears and sobbed about his ‘failing’. And the kid on the back seat of my car apparently told him ‘Why are you crying, we’re still winning’.

Pain is temporary, pride lasts forever!

Thank you for stopping by but I'm currently out of the office at the moment. If you have an urgent request please feel free to leave me a message and I shall respond upon my return. In the meantime normal service shall resume once I've found my sobriety and sense of humour ;o)

Making the most of life

I’ve been a single mum for seven years today. It’s seven years today that the boys’ dad decided to leave and go and live with someone else. I’m over it, but I’ll never be allowed to forget it as the date just happens to also be my son’s birthday.

When my boys were younger I was so preoccupied with the practical stuff, the logistics, earning the dough and paying the bills that I forgot to enjoy them whilst they were little. Now I'm mature enough to see the beauty in their funny ways, and their innocence, I really enjoy their company. Their dad and I had a happy marriage, although it ended sadly with him leaving me for a much younger girl whilst I was 6 months preggers with Maxi…not a good time but hey ho, it’s made me the girl I am today, ie incurably independent, and not afraid to graft. I’ve come to believe that life’s a series of tests, which is exhausting but finally gives a purpose and I only hope that my kids, or any kids, learn from my mistakes/life. What is your life worth if nobody learns from it? This thinking keeps me wrapped up in yester-year, my melancholy, romantic view on human nature…we’re too intellectual an animal to let the past pass us by without reaping some reward. I see the simplest plant growing, I hear the clearest voice of a bird in my garden, I remember a wave dying on a beach and I truly believe that they’re put there to teach me something, a sign from somewhere to keep us grounded to the life that we’re put here for. I get to the age of 35 (ahem) and finally feel that I get it, I finally see what all the fuss it about; when we’re young we don’t see it but it’s when we lose/gain people that we see the life that’s most important. I'm really worried that not many people share that with me, I almost feel like I'm dying cos there’s so much I haven’t seen/done and that I'm running out of time.

On Monday I attended a wonderfully sincere funeral for a lovely lady who was taken too soon. Kind of put me in my place and made me realise what's important.

Nice

I love being a mum, you get to scrub sour puke out of the carpet and everything...

Some photos

Today I've been looking at photos that we took over the summer, here are some of my favs from camping in August:

Max took this one of me and him

In the, er 6 inch rapids...(Bexhill)


Off roading at Seven Sisters country

Boys chillin in old fashioned seaside fashion

Eating breakfast in the sunshieeenne

MM and me

RIP Jeff Buckley