About as much fun as getting teeth pulled

6 years ago, almost to the day, in fact, it was the 22nd sept, I remember clearly, but I’ll tell you about that another time. 6 years ago I discovered I was pregnant with my first child, Dudette. This isn’t going to be a post about my pregnancy or how much I love Dudette, or how I had resigned myself to not having kids. It’s just the spring board to where we are now. Sometimes I have to do that, start at the beginning to make the present make sense. And so, I was pregnant with my first child, and I suffered from Hyperemesis Gravidarum, a rare, severe and debilitating illness which made me vimit for the whole pregnancy

Fellow blogheads

At one point, when it seemed I had nothing better to do with my time, I would post to this blog every day, or as close to as possible. I don’t think a lot has changed since then, I just seem to have even more ‘wastes of time’ to keep me from updating my blog. I’d like to offer an engrossing account of my adventures since my last post, but there aren’t any so I can’t.

Whenever something happens that pisses me off, or makes me happy, or makes me sad or makes me want to bitch slap someone, my first thought is to blog.

One of those days

After a relatively decent week, imagine my horror at getting not only a filling at the dentist, complete with pensioneresque dribble from the numb face, but also a parking ticket! Not just any ticket, but my FIRST ticket. The dentist car park was full, so i parked on the side of the road, which had a sign on the lappost that said no more than one hour… Ok great, because my appointment is only half an hour so I’ll easy get back in time. Only at the dentist I had to wait half an ohur to be seen, so by the time I had the work done i was 5 minutes over the hour. FIVE minutes, 300 seconds. I mean.. COME ON!! And so now I have a fixed penalty to pay..ugh Enough pain aready today.

It can only get better right? Well we’ll see what happens at weigh in tonight.

Bloggers block

For the past few millenia I seem to have had trouble finding things to write about that will both entertain and be interesting. I’ve sat at my computer with the dashboard open to write a new blog post and….nothing. Upon talking to my dear husband we have decided that I do indeed have a problem. NO… Not THAT problem, well maybe. But no, we have decided that I have ‘Bloggers Block’.

I try to write about my day to day life in a lighthearted way that either makes you laugh or think that I am crazy, or maybe a little of both. But end up making a gazillion drafts of things that piss me off instead. Yanno, like the nipple nazi’s or the sky fairy, that never quite make it to the publish button because, well….

Just the right formula

Just an FYI. Formula is NOT bad. It’s a food. My kids were exclusively formula fed until they were ready for cows milk and solids. It’s good shit.

Well if the breast feeding nazi’s can post for everyone to see then so can I.

And if I have pissed anyone off with this post, then know that that is EXACTLY what it feels like when you post the BF nazi crap.

You’d think feeding is feeding…but aparantly not. Cup of SMA anyone?

Post THIS as your status

Lately the world of Facebook statuses seems to be dominated with the “If you have… yadad yada yada, please post this as your status” posts. Now. I am not an entirely heartless bitch, although, I’m sure, there are SOME who would disagree. Ex Husbands, ex friends whatever.  But I draw the line at bombarding MY status with whatever plea people have on that day for fear of dying, going to hell or some other unpleasant thing that might happen to me if I don’t post.

So forgive me if I don’t post that I love God, because, quite frankly I wouldn’t go that far anyway. And if I do go to hell, well I’ll likely see most of you there, I’ll save you a seat, tea or coffee?

My New Year letter

And so we start a new year, but before we do, I want to do a recap on the past year, which was filed with mixed emotions, happiness, sadness, laughs and stress.

The year 2009 started out pretty well, Walt was working for Malcolms, I was at home with the kids, and Kimi was at nursery, which she loves. James had just started walking, which was a big thing for us, even though he was behind when the girls did it, because he had been premature and has a few developmental delays. In march my brother and his family came to visit, his wife, my sister in law succeeded in leading me astray and getting me drunk to the point of throwing up (it WAS her fault honest!!) and we got to celebrate my nieces birthday with a mini party here at the house. I also got to meet my nephew for the first time, since SIL had so very inconveniently NOT gone into labour the last time I had visited home, and instead baked my nephew for a further 2 weeks, making him an early christmas present.

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Do you take this man….? Urmmmm… Meh

I haven’t forgotten my loyal readers, you know I love you all, but sometimes, just sometimes, life passes me by before I know what has hit me, and before you know it a month or two has gone by and I’m getting pissy emails from people asking why I haven’t updated. And so. We’re here again.

Let me take you back to the beginning of august when my ever so wonderful Mr I, comes into the kitchen and tells me [a little too curtly for my liking] to get off the computer, so I bimbled over to the other side of the kitchen to where he was standing, and he takes a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me. On the piece of paper was simply a reverend’s name, the address of a church and a time. It took me about 5 million years for it to suddenly click and then… OMG! He’s gone and booked our wedding!! For a few seconds I got quite excited at the prospect of being an ‘official’ Mrs I before it dawned on me. He booked it for octobe..THIS YEAR! That means 11 weeks until the wedding day!! Sre you freaking kidding me? So I asked him in a [not so] nice way “And who is organising our wedding within 11 weeks”? And he said “it won’t be that difficult, just dresses, shoes and bouquets and that kind of thing, we’ll do it easy”. Ho-hum…

Now had this been his [and mine for that matter] first wedding then I may, just about MAY have cut him a tinee tiny bit of slack on that one. Not much, but a bit, just for being male. But being as we have both been married before, that little bit of lee-way has been chopped short. Does he have ANY idea what goes in to a wedding? Was he KIDDING when he said ALL we need is outfits and shoes? Aparantly not.

So. It appears that the rings, and the hair, and the reception just appear by magic and requires no work OR money, it just appears exactly how you want it. Who knew? So it’s safe to say that I have been left to do all the nit-picky things required for a sensational wedding.  I’ve managed to find rings that match that we both like for next to nothing, of course when I say we both like I mean “meh… yeah that’ll do, it’s just a ring”

Of course had I indeed left him to organise the WHOLE wedding, then it would probably have been a sad little affair. He would never have thought of making our own centerpieces to save money, in fact he probably wouldn’t have THOUGHT about centerpieces at all. And answering the question ‘what shall we put in the favor bags’? with “favor bags? huh?” was probably also not a good indication that he would have even thought about them, much less actually known what they are.

He does, however have SOME family that are a tad brighter than he is, who have found us tables and chairs so we can have the reception at home, to keep the cost down, and a marquee to have outside too, for FREE. And his sister is also making the cake for free and I am going to try my hand at making handmade soap, although that bit isa little secret incase it goes badly wrong and people expect it.

And so with the stress of looking after a male disabled person, and looking after three kids AND organising a wedding in less than 3 months, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t write every day. Or not, because really there’s nothing you can do about it anyways.

I’m fine, my kids are fine – And your problem is?

I was brought up in a place where freedom of speech was encouraged and we were free to make our own decisions whether they be right or wrong, and deal with the consequences. I have made a lot of  ’wrong’ decisions in my life, and I dealt with them. Marrying young, definitely a stupid idea (for me), mistaking sleeping tablets for the pill and waking up in a field with my knickers round my ankles after getting drunk with friends and needing a pee whilst out on a drive (I wasn’t driving, I’m not THAT stupid), I should clarify that my friends were with me and found the whole thing hillarious. So yeah, I’ve done stupid stuff, but they were my mistakes, my wrongs, and they didn’t hurt anyone else.

So why do my decisions seem to piss people off now? Why does society seem intent on making my life hell because I don’t follow what the ‘experts’ say is best?

Breast feeding. Now before I even start I KNOW that it’s best for babies. But what annoys me is the constant battering non breast feeders get. For some they CAN’T breast feed, and seeing the commercials for formula that spend 3/4 of the commercial saying that breast feeding is the absolute best for your baby yada yada yada is going to hurt them. I chose not to breast feed. After an awful pregnancy and other complications my body needed a break. Is that a cop out? Absolutely not. Had I have decided to go ahead and breast feed, I would have been exhausted, and irritable which my baby would have sensed. Besides anything else, I HATE anything touching my nipples. But was I wrong? Selfish? no. My baby was happy, fed and had no health problems at all. She’s now 4 and is smart, healthy and beautiful. I bonded with her straight away, we still had skin on skin contact. So why did I get evil eyes when I told people I didn’t breastfeed? Now. I don’t have a problem with breastfeeding at all, I applaud every single mother who can do it, that wants to do it, that has tried it and failed. I don’t have any problem with mothers who breastfeed in public, everything’s good. All I ask is that the guilt trip on those who don’t STOPS. We come under fire for every decision we make as a parent, there is always going to be some bigwig who thinks what you do is wrong. It’s one thing to put the information out there so one can make an informed choice, but it’s another to bully people, and guilt people into doing things a certain way.

Much the same is people who decide they don’t want kids at all. Just recently I came across a lady who didn’t want children, doesn’t like children. She had come across so much flack for that decision. She is NOT wrong. So she doesn’t want kids, so what? She can have a life, travel, go partying and live a fullfilled life. Of course parents can do that too, but there are more restrictions when you have kids. She is fed up with the ‘you don’t know what you’re missing’ and ‘there’s no love like parent/child love’ and ‘you’ll change your mind later on’. Why should she? If you don’t like spiders, would you suddenly want one in a few years? no. If you don’t like the cold, would you suddenly move to Alaska? no. And stop with the sympathetic glances when you ask her if she has any and she says no. She doesn’t need sympathy.

oh and while I’m on a rant, so what  if I have 3 kids close together? No I am not a tramp, I don’t sleep around and I am not a benefits dosser who had loads of kids to get a free house and benefits. And thank you for noticing that I’m not married, which obviously means I’m a whore who can’t keep her legs closed. And yes, I have heard of contraception, thank you very much, in fact 2 of my kids were a result of failed contraception methods, and YES, I did use them correctly and on time. My fiance and I were very shocked at having 3 kids so close together, but he worked damned hard working all the hours he could to provide for me and our growing family, while I worshipped the porceline Goddess, and took medication (oh don’t even get me started on that subject) for the whole of my pregnancy just for me and my baby to survive. Add to that the hospitalisations, added pregnancy complications (SPD, borderline GD, and with the last one PPROM resulting in a premature baby born at 32+6) and yeah, it was tough. But we are in a healthy loving long term relationship, we were not on any state benefits, and we were living in our own house. It’s hard work, sure, but we do it, and we do it by ourselves. Don’t make assumptions about me when you don’t even know me.

Oh and before I forget. Yes, my fiance is older than me, by 22 years. And??? And no, I’m not with him for his money, in fact I paid some of HIS debts off. Why do I need to have a reason for who I fell in love with? Age is a number. Now leave us alone.

It’s just a show…Right?

Ok. So I am sitting here right now with make-up splodges all over my face, bloodshot eyes and grieving. No, I haven’t lost a loved  one, well not in the real life, real person sense, no, but one of my favourite characters has died. My poor Jim Clancy. What the hell were you thinking Ghost Whisperer writers??? Damn you!! He was sweet and caring, and so good with Melinda, oh and did I mention HOT!! Damn damn damn. Now where will I get my Jim fix?

And how did I NOT know this was coming? Well I’m off to cry into my pillow and compose a hate mail to CBS. Damn Damn Damn.

After Dinner Speeches

We have a rule in our house, that we all sit at the table for the evening meal. Not because we are super efficient parents, more because we’ve seen more than our fair share of ‘Jerry Springer-esque Holiday show’ style dinner times in the living room, that resulted in a food flinging frenzy, or virtually refrozen dinners because they can’t possibly eat food AND watch Dora/Peppa/Lazytown/Max and ruby (or other assorted kids shows) at the same time. So yes, we finally cleared the kitchen table which would practically be about to start walking itself had it not been piled thick with laundry/mail and any other thing that didn’t have it’s own home somewhere it the kitchen. TADAAAA! We have a dinner table, and pleasant dinner conversation.

Time for change

And so it was time to change my theme, although I loved the grey/black theme, sometimes you have to things in the name of popularity

It came to my attention from a very sweet wonderful person (can you see me kissing ass right now? LOL) that I didn’t have an RSS feed or ‘subscribe’ button. Ya know since I am such an incredibly talented writer and all…… (Cough cough)! And then I realised something, it wasn’t that people didn’t know about the blog, therefor didn’t like me, or thought I was crap (well maybe it was..lol), but it was that people didn’t know when I’d posted. So after hours of banging my head on a brick wall trying to figure out how to add this feed thingy, I realised it was the theme I had for the blog. And upon changing the theme, I now have a built in subscribey thing.

The next time I log in, I shall be expecting an entourage of screaming fans [An 'entourage' is a usually small group of people that ride on the coattails of somebody successful.]

I’ll be looking for you all, and when I am inredibly famous I will share my gazillions with you all, and kiss your feet. So long as you washed them before you came here.

And so. Yeah

Have you missed me? I should think so too. Only, I’ve kinda had the world on my shoulders lately. You ever get those days where you feel so overwhelmed and then something comes along and kicks the shit out of you? Well – That was my last month. So where to begin, where to begin.

I guess we could start with Boo Boo’s arm issues, and dr’s appointments to see whether she would need surgery or whether it would heal by itself. Or we could start with the gazillions of appointments that I’ve had to have, and still have to have. Or maybe we could start with the food allergy that turned out to be a stroke for DH! Or the nasty sickness bug that the kids got and then so generously gave to me. Yeah. I love that sharing is limited to bugs when it comes to the kiddies.

What’s ‘normal’ anyway?

So, from quite an early age, I knew that my kids weren’t what you’d call normal. Oh yes, they look normal (well apart from Dudette’s model smile and Boo Boo’s  ‘I’m pissed at the world’  look), but looks can be decieving. My kids ENJOY most of the things that near on all parents struggle with, with their offspring. Sure there are a few that like the things that mine do, but they’re not normal either. My kids have loved baths from the moment they were born, none of this screaming your head offlike you’ve just been dipped into a deep fat fryer instead of the bath, No.

Mr Funny has been!!

And so we are at easter again. We hid all the eggs away in the living room before we went to bed, ready to watch their delighted faces as they realised that the Easter bunny had been. I just about managed to divert Dudette away from the living room door before the other kids woke up, or else there would have been no Easter eggs for anyone else. So I dragged her a la  kidnap style and hauled her butt into our room for snuggles first thing, while she incessantly screamed because she did not want cuddles, she wanted chocolate eggs because ‘The Easter bunny came and brought MEEEEEE an chocolate egg with sweeeeeeties in the chocolate egg dint he mummy?’ But darling your brother and sister are still sleeping, the Easter bunny said you have to wait for them to wake up first. At first it seemed she had listened, and trundled off, only to take a detour right into the their bedroom shouting “Boo Boo, Dudey!! Time to get up, the easter bunny has been” Yeah thanks dudette.

The Dummy club 30 year Reunion

So. Playing host on saturday night/ sunday morning went particularly well. I was, of course my usual domestic Goddess self. The house was immaculate, the guest room was to the highest standard, well “Helen High Standard” not running your finger along the skirting board kind of high standard. I’m talking tidied and swept/vacuumed and changed the sheets and cover and put fresh towels out. Well shit, that’spretty good for me, usually I just shift all the mess and laundry to the corner and make space for the bed!

The tables have turned

Ever since I have known Mr I, I have never met any of his friends. When we first met, he moved to my pad from 300 miles away. So I had heard stories, loooong stories about these people, but never met them. Of course he met all my friends because, well they lived round the corner from me. A few months ago I finally met, for a brief moment a guy he was in the army with. It was 5 minutes outside a cafe (if one could call it that, more a greasy spoon with a hole in the wall and seats outside) and the kids were playing up. So that was about that.

Last night he gets a phone call just before we were heading to the hay, and it’s REME boy. He says “whatcha doing saturday? we’re coming over … blah blah blah. Gets off the phone and says “they’re staying over night, is that ok?” So I asked “What did you tell him?” And he replies “I said it was ok”. Umm so why the hell are you asking me then? You already told him it’s fine. But whatever.

I won’t miss you

So on my quest to find this weeks Video of the week I found this little gem. This guy, Emerson Brophy, is very talented, and not worthy of just a titchy tiny link to youtube. So I am giving him his own post. It’s a beautiful song and a heavenly voice. He should really do this for a living.

Bite me

Yes the PMS fairy has found me. The bitch. And here was me thinking I was the only bitch here. I AM a bitch, the QUEEN bitch, as I’m sure some people will vouch for, but this lady is pretty close.

So. While we are here, and I am in kill mode, I may as well get some things off my chest.

Sappy Sue, get off my fucking case. I try so hard to sit back and let you put your own nail in the coffin, but I’m damn close to putting it in myself. In fact I may just kill you, and dig a small hole in a sewerage plant and sod the coffin.

Ellis and co. FFS. Get a fucking grip. Nuff said.

Kids: SHUT UP!! Nuff said.

That’s your lot. Byeeeeeeeeeee!