Parenting, profundities and humour

Hope — January 5, 2021


A life without hope is an almost impossible thing to live.

Last night I stroked my 13 years old daughters head for over an hour whilst she struggled to sleep. She just kept saying that she did not know how she was going to survive this latest lock down. Her heart was racing. She felt sick. She is broken by this struggle.

Her world has shrunk into a black hole from which she can see no way out.

There is no point trying to give her hope. She no longer believes in it. She has been promised things for nearly a year that do not happen. She has lost faith in adults and the world.

Her pain is very very real and I am frankly sick of being asked to look on the bright side.

So here in this house we will just live each day at a time. And if necessary each hour.

Or each minute.

Status Update — April 19, 2016

Status Update


I have not written for a while. Why not? Not sure. Apathy. Laziness. Whatever. So to ease myself back in gently I thought a bit of an update would be in order.

For regular readers this will prove… possibly boring but at least comprehensible. For those stumbling upon me  for the first time today…good luck…you are going to need it.

My drive is once again operational. It was not yesterday and for most of today. Anglian Water finally came out to replace my lead pipe… you remember my heavy metal issues? (Please see I accuse Anglian Water with the lead piping … for any clarification required).

You may also remember their 10 working day window to replace that part of the pipe that is their responsibility. The one in the street running up to my drive. I worked it out. Anglian Water work a 3 day week. Well they must if yesterday was actually in their 10 working day window. Even allowing for Easter. At least I hadn’t bothered to chase them. It was on my to do list. Below ‘Sell cello’. I was going to get round to it. And then they turned up and banged on the door (my ‘I Came From Alabama’ doorbell is currently out of order) when I was in the shower. Ironically.

I was only without water for about 30 minutes today. Then, even better luck, the ‘re-instatement team’ did me a favour by turning up today even though I was not booked in for a ‘same day’ re-instatement. Re-instatement appears to involve back filling the hole and laying fresh tarmac. Badly.

When the operative who seemed to be in charge of my ‘job’ told me I was not booked in for same day re-instatement he made it sound like my fault. Sorry about that. And I am still to work out a collective noun for water engineers in high viz jackets (orange in case you are interested). A ponderance? There was certainly a lot of hole staring.

And the bad news is head ‘non same day re-instatement’ honcho said I definitely have lead within my boundary. Oh joy. I will add sorting that out to the list. Under ‘Sell cello’. One step forward…several back.

I was in the shower when Anglian Water called because I have started a new fitness regime in a bid to shed those 7 pounds I mentioned in A Weighty Issue. I started last Tuesday. Monday being a non working day for me as the kids were off school. Maybe Anglian Water had heard? By Friday I found walking difficult and on Saturday morning I was shouting at anything requiring me to bend my legs. Weeing for instance. It is at times like these I wish I was a man.

Anyway after a weekend of being grumpy (sorry family members) and popping ibuprofen I was OK again. I am sure by tomorrow I will be back to not being able to climb stairs. Except on my hands and knees. Annoyingly all this activity is going unnoticed by my FitBit app as my FitBit died (see You Fit Bit You). After 3 months. I wasn’t doing that many steps. Apparently the inability to hold charge is a ‘thing’ with the FitBit. I am not impressed. Anyway after exhausting the Customer Service desks suggestions to fix the issue they have graciously agreed to send me a new one. Lets see if this one can perform better, I have vowed to take it off when washing up. Which may help.

At least at my five year ‘you old git’ health check last Friday I was able to say honestly that I exercise ‘regularly’. I got a clean bill of health. My risk of developing heart disease is apparently 0.59%. Shines halo. They will see me again in five years to make sure I haven’t become an alcoholic or gained 3 stone. The way my quads feel now that might be the next time I exercise too…

The heating got fixed (see Central Bleating). My water pressure was low. The gas engineer showed me which valve to fiddle with in future if it happens again. I deliberately have not shown my husband where that valve is as he has buggered all the downstairs hallway lights trying to fix a down-light fitting back into the ceiling. ‘Call Electrician’ had moved up one place yesterday but has since slipped down behind ‘Find out about digging up drive and eliminating heavy metals from water supply’. I guess it is a question of priorities. Although one of us is likely to fall downstairs soon stumbling our way to bed. It is a fine balance between that and slow death by lead accumulation.

I seem to be on top of the laundry and have not fallen foul of Eldest’s wrath (see Best Supporting Role….) recently. Even though we are now in the cricket season. And both boys are wearing cricket ‘whites’ several times a week. The word ‘white’ is in inverted commas because their cricket ‘whites’ are mainly brown and green. I am not sure which sadist thought it was a good idea for people to wear cricket ‘whites’. But whoever he was (and by god I am quite sure it was a he) he was clearly never in charge of laundry. Sales of Vanish presumably spike in the cricket season.

I had three weeks off taxi-ing.  It was bliss. We are back to it now. See Fares Please… if you want some appreciation of what this means. My peaked chauffeur’s cap is firmly back on my head. Tips are still bad. Tomorrow has morphed into the taxi job from hell. I will be boomeranging back and fro to school more than my mean average of twice a night. One is at House Bowling (!), back 7.30pm, one has been selected for a surprise cricket match (Vanish in overdrive), back c 6pm (mental note to self to add half an hour to this which is problematic as it will then clash with Cub drop off, see below)  and one has decided to take up yet another sport… girl’s cricket, finishes c 5.15pm. And then she has Cubs too. The piano lesson has bitten the dust. As has the chicken casserole I had planned. Sarnies again then.

I have decided to work my way through my CD collection to ease the boredom of driving/ sitting around in my car. I am on Nirvana currently. My 13 year old morning liftee was quite impressed I think. The parents at cricket pick up not so much. I forgot to shut my window before driving up. Not sure I will ever cut it as a private school mum… do I care. Nah not really.

Eldest is up to his eyes in revision for his end of year tests. Shame I threw out that anatomical drawing I mentioned in Just a Quickie…. We could do with it now. Poor lad. I feel for him especially as the temperature has been hitting 18 degrees and the sun is shining. Except for Saturday when it sleeted whilst husband and I watched separate football matches. Weird. And sodding typical.

So there you have it. I little update for those that wanted it. And those that didn’t. Which is probably most of you.




Mon beau fils… — December 1, 2015

Mon beau fils…

Today Eldest had French homework. It consisted of picking information out of a French child’s description of his family members. My dad has short hair. My sister has green eyes. Etc.

He then had to formulate his own description of a family member. I had lightly supervised part one of the homework and then had to leave to collect his siblings from after school clubs.

I dropped a kiss on his head (this is still tolerated) and left him to it.

When I got back he had written:

Ma mere s’appelle Sarah. Elle as cheveux courts et bruns et gris et les yeux verte.

Ma mere est tres, tres, tres, tres, tres gentil et aussi assez curieuse mais elle n’est pas branchee.

It was a moment. One of those wonderful, tear jerking, time stopping, heart breaking moments that happen in parenthood. One that can be held onto during the rows and grunting and snappiness.

I will forgive him the grey hair. The nosiness. The untrendiness. For all those tres….

I can’t think of a better compliment than to be ‘five times very’ kind.

It has made my week.


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