Rain, rain go away . . .

Evenin'.  I'm sat here all cushy and cosy on the sofa watching The Great British Bake Off (for Comic Relief) and it's bucketing down outside.  Am raging it's not snowing.  Seems to be snowing everywhere in Ireland except out our way.  Buggery duck anyway.

Rain, I love.  Okay, so I don't love rain when I want to do something nice e.g. sit outside and drink wine or go to the beach and play with the kids or . . drink gin on the beach.  We did that actually, last summer.  Drank gin on the beach.  In the rain.  In Wexford.  Divine.

I also have tinnitus which is an absolute pain in the sodding head.  You don't notice it so much during the day but at night?  God!!!  That noise!!!  That never ending shrieking noise.  Aaargh.  I have discovered though, thanks to Clodagh, that listening to something on earphones is good.  I was listening to this podcast by a man called James who, in 3 minutes, talks you asleep.  I quite liked him.  But I lost him.  So I went looking for a new chap to talk me asleep.  That's not going so well.  The first one is American and he whispers to you.  Which, I guess, is fine if you DON'T have tinnitus but it's fecking brutal if you do as you can't hear someone whispering.  

The other chap I found, well, he kind've scares the shit out of me.  Something vaguely scary about a man saying things like 'meditation is a shower for the mind!!'???  What?  Get out of my mind man.

In a desperate bid to find something that is white noise like I found rain.  Seriously!! You can download the sound of rain.  All sorts of rain storms as it turns out, I'll tell you about that later.  Therefore, last night, I went to bed with rain downloaded onto to my ipod and it was lovely.  Provided you kept your eyes closed and didn't focus on the windows - which I kept doing.  Something very disconcerting about hearing rain belting down on the house but having completely clear skies beyond the window.

Anyway, I was listening to the rain and the cars swishing by on wet streets (yes, it's that realistic) and I started remembering all my favourite rain moments.  Sitting in the hallway of the house I grew up in with our neighbours dog by my side as the rain bounced off the path just beyond the hall door.  Summertime if I remember correctly.

Then there was the date I had with Darren, one of the early ones, where we went to see some foreign language film, Italian - something about a women falling into tomatoes and getting pregnant - and, when we came out of the IFI, it was lashing.  I was so in love and so high with life I threw my umbrella in the bin.  Hey, it was Celtic Tiger days.  Brollies were ten a penny.

Singin' in the Rain, I know, I know, that's not about me but god, what a great rain scene.  Every time I see Gene Kelly do his big splashing thing in the puddle the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and HUGE shit  eating grin on my face.

Ah, the time the kids and I got caught in the rain and they were scared shitless, you can tell they've grown up with cars, Oscar was concinved he was going to melt.

Then there was the time myself and Darren met up in Herbert Park to feed the ducks.  We were living together in Inchicore at the time but were hardly seeing each other due to his working shift and me doing 12 hour days.  . . . . So, Herbert Park, duck feeding and it pissed down.  I mean, HAMMERED, down with rain.  But it was such fun.  We had to hunker under the trees to try and stay dry.  Just us and several dozen ducks who were all determined to get our bread.  Hahah, we then had to go home on my moped.

Easy, happy days.

My pal, Colette, bought me a gorgeous card of a little girl in a yellow raincoat kneeling beside a pond feeding the ducks.  I still have it framed, on the wall, and I can see it from here.  My favourite EVER rain memory is of Darren standing outside my house, in the lashings of ran with his ghetto blaster held high above his head playing 'In your eyes', sigh, love is, eh?  Oh, sorry, that wasn't Darren.  That was John Cusak.  Damn.

I love rain.

However!  It turns out when you download the sound of rain you should check to see that you have just downloaded a track of rain and swishy cars NOT several tracks that eventually turn into a tropical storm, chipanzees howling and thunder booming.  The rain last night scared the bejaysus how of me too

Hey there, remember me?

I have a whole raft of excuses, er, reasons why I haven't been blogging as often.

1. The laptop battery isn't working so I have to sit by the cold, cold, back door to type and the chair is creaky and I hate sitting over there.
2. I bought a keyboard for the ipad but it's got an American keyboard and only one shift key which causes the touch typist in me huge problems.
3. Puddins.   Frickin' Christmas puddins everywhere.
4. Hanging out with friends.
5. Apparently, being too busy doing other stuff, to play with the kids. Okay, I know this one has nothing to do with why I haven't been stopping by as much but I'm feeling guilty about not spending time with the kids so I'm dropping it in here.
6. Cakes,
7. Illness - see mentalness.
8. Being too wound up to type - No. 1 didn't get into school, secondary, and I was/am too wound up to type/talk.

Yeah, them's the reasons.  They're not great reasons but they are all I have.  Have loads of stuff to tell you and, if you hang around, I'll tell you.

I'm never going to be truly mature and grown up

I was checking through this blog and wondering what to do with 'tother one (I can't keep everything going y'see) and I got an awful fit of the giggles when I saw one of the posts got 69 views.

Yup, it would appear that I may grow a teeny bit taller but I will never mature.

Are you for real? Like, seriously???

I'm in trouble.  Not huge trouble but I think I'm in a bit of trouble and I'm finding it hard to hold my tongue.  Y'see, the thing about the Internet is that it gives a voice to people who shouldn't be allowed to EVER talk.  Not because they have no rights to a voice but because they've no sodding sense.  People could say the same about me yapping on but the thing is, this is for me.  If people read it that's fantastic but if they don't, they don't.  This was originally set up so my kids (when they're grown up) can look at it and see 'me'. I'd never post what I post here on facebook, facebook is a way of keeping in touch and gossiping not shouting out whatever bloody nonsense sneaks into your head that morning.  Unless it's funny nonsense.  You can never have too little of that.  

I think I've been accused of cyber bullying on a facebook page I'm a member of.  I only 'think' it because I have asked the woman (is it always a woman I wonder?) in question to name and shame those she thinks are bullying her.  

I've had to ask as she's playing victim and pointing fingers and whining but she won't put her money where her sodding mouth is and shout out those she feels are giving her a hard time.

Funny thing is, I reckon I could name and shame each and every one of those people.  The interesting part though is . . . it's not because I can see a bullying clique or any clique for that matter but I have noticed that those people who disagree with her seem to be then hinted at as being vicious bastards in later posts.

But, I can only speak for me. so here's the deal.  This woman killed a dog by driving too fast where I live.  She tried to evade it by bailing but she was seen (by many) and . . . what can you do?  The owners of the dog she ran over accepted her apology and cried quietly and life went on.  But when Dog Killer, a few months, later went online and gave out about cars nearly killing a neighbours cat . . well, what can you say?  It wasn't me who pointed out that she had done similar months previously but it was me who said she was mistaken with her version of events because I was there.  I know there was no black ice because it was late summer.  When challenged over accidentally killing the dog she said she'd 'done the owners a favour' as they were moving to Australia and she knew the dog was a problem.  Yeah, you can read that again if you want.
I also know that she sat in my kitchen with the owners of the dog weeks later at a charity coffee morning and didn't recognise any of us.  So maybe I should have seen the signs.  The signs that she is a loon.  Maybe everyone else reconises her as a loon and that is why no one challenges her.  But I was brought up to believe you should stand up for your beliefs and I don't like her attitude.  She incites to hatred.  See?  Two can make blanket accusations.

Anyway, I digress.  I have been accused by this woman and a few others (shite, are they now bullying me?) of bullying because I don't always agree with statements put on the page.  I don't agree that you can call builders thieves with no evidence.  So I said I didn't agree and I said it was out of order.  I also argued that the term 'Knacker' was well out of line when it came to describing itinerants (travellers).  Later I agreed with her that whilst she was right in saying that kids were going to get mashed if they continued to play chicken when JCBs were on the move I was sick of the page being used like some sort of Big Brother type thing.  Jesus, in my opinion, if you see a kid acting the shite ROAR at them.  That'll give them something to think about. 

So.  Because I have disagreed three times. with a loon, I have been asked to leave the page.  I'm going, honestly, it's fine.  But for fucks sake don't you hate when people get to say whatever the bloody hell they want and there are no repercussions but, should you disagree with said moron, you are asked to leave for 'bullying'.

Fuckwits.

To make you smile . . . last night I thought I was on one of my favourite facebook cake pages and I posted that 'I've been suspended for disagreeing with moronic curtain twitching nimby morons'.  Only thing is, I'd posted it on the page hosted by said moronic curtain twitching nimbys.  Seriously!!!  

When I realised what I'd done and my heart had restarted I legged it downstairs. In the nude!!  To get to the computer to delete the post.  Bloody smart phone wasn't smart enough to let me delete there and then.  Mind you, I wasn't all that smart myself was I?  Poor dog and Himself.  They were just minding their own business when this white naked yoke flashed past them, tits and arse followed minutes later, to throw herself on borrowed Mac.  Thank God I borrowed a laptop, mine is kaputt. 

Yup, the dog is disturbed and I'm on a diet.  It should never take a minute for your arse to catch up with you.

Chugga chugga chooo chooooo

When the kids started back at school after their Christmas hols I decided that there would be no telly on in the house until 5.30 at the earliest.  

If they get their homework finished by 4 that means they have an hour and a half before they can turn on the box.  

It was meant to be fun.

It's not.

For me.

Okay, so they've rediscovered dozens of toys they had forgotten all about (which was kind've the plan at the start - tonnes of stuff and none of it looked at from one end of the year til the next).  Thing is, they all want to play with the one thing and they all have different ideas of how it should be played with.

# 3 got a trainset down from uptstairs (it was originally given to #1 by his nana and Paddy when he was one and a bit) and started to set it up.  Which of course meant that #s 1 and 2 had to jump on board, pardon the pun, and tell him what he was doing wrong and they then started to build their own bits of track.  Which meant there wasn't enough track for #3, who had brought it down in the first place.

So # 2 went upstairs and got the dinosaurs and decided that he would make a city out of building blogs and the dinosarus would pretend it was Tokyo and trash the place.  The Borrowed Boy liked this plan.

All hell broke out.  Two small boys and a box of dinosaurs kicking everything over and two slightly bigger boys threatening to batter them if they didn't stop.

So.

An hour and a half later everyone is watching the telly and it's up to me to dismantle Tokyo, retrieve the trains and track from behind the sofa and tidy it all away.  This no telly lark is hard work.  

No Pants Dance

Yeah, I'll get back to that.  But firstly . . . my lovely friend G. rang me today to see how I was.  Have decided to abandon facebook as I'm tired.  Tired and broke.  So fucking broke.  Car's shagged, boiler needs seeing to.  #1 is miserable and #2 is being kissed by a boy he doesn't like?!  The credit union aren't happy about giving me a moratorium on a loan I have (3 months not paying €300 would get me straight every which way - sad isn't it that being behind/struggling to catch up with bills to the tune of €1000 can fuck everything up so much) but instead seem to think me missing three payments and slating an excellent credit rating would be preferable.  So all of the above made me think 'fuck it, pull head in and chill'.

Then G. rang to see if I was okay.  I don't know what it is about that girl, I've only known her for a year and a bit, but she has this ability to make me laugh and be funny.  We laugh together and I always feel great when getting off the phone.  Have lots of other wonderful friends but G. does it for me every time.  Funny that.

She has her own problems, like stingy in-laws.   Let's not mention work and her hubby has just been made redundant but she rings me to check I'm okay and I love her for that.

So, she rang to check I was okay and then told me about this cake she has to do.  A 'No Pants Dance' cake.  WTF?????  Yup, apparently a big craze at the moment is to dance with your kacks around your knees so all the world can see your pants!  It's not enough to just show the waistband of  flashy boxers anymore (or your thong??) but instead you drop your trews and boogie.  

How?  Jesus. How do you dance with your trousers around your knees????  Why would you want to waddle like a penguin?  Has Mr. Poppers Penguins created a new dance craze?  

So funny.  So glad it's not me making the cake.  Wonder do people ever consider we're working with sugar and we're not I.L.M.  

Conversation then went on to how there are bars where the ladies (using that term as loosely as possible) hand in their knickers to the barman for free booze.  Seriously!!  If I handed my er, knickers into the barman I could have drinks for the entire night, week, one for everyone in fact.  Don't think they'd be that interested in my er, not so skimpies.  Those skimpy knickers were long ago resigned to the back of the knicker drawer.   

I remember, years ago, hearing of a 'thing' that was happening at Wesleys (rugby club), where there used to be a disco every week for teenagers (think it's still on in fact) where the girls wore their thongs around their wrists to show they were available for fun.  'What kind of fun?' I hear you ask?  Well, a pair of knickers wrapped around the girl's wrist meant she was available for blow jobs and anal sex.  Never vaginal sex as you might get pregnant.  I swear to God.  On nos. 1, 2 and 3's teddy bears.  What does the girl get out of this arrangement other than a bad name?

So.  Three cheers for all the wonderful friends I have.  Friends who would be furious I haven't confided in them and three cheers for G., for making me laugh and reminding me that it's the world that's mental and not me.

p.s. for a rough idea of the 'no pants dance' follow this.

When we were young

• When you were young, you went to bed when Glenroe was over.
• If you die from alcohol poisoning, you're considered a lightweight.
• 'Fuck off' means 'Are you serious?'.
• The person that you insult most is probably your best friend.
• Saying 'I will yeah' means that you definitely won't.
• "Fuck it, its grand' means that you couldn't be bothered to finish it properly.
• 'Hes fond of a drink' means he suffers from severe life-threatening alcoholism.
• Saying you're going for a drink means you might not be seen again for 3 days.
• Crisps are called 'Taytos' and fizzy drinks are called 'minerals'.
• 'For the craic' is the best reason for doing anything.
• The best cure for a hangover is more drink.
• Nobody can go a day without saying 'Jaysus'.
• 'Meeting' has a double meaning.
• Tea is the solution to every problem,.
• And water is the solution to every GAA injury.
• "I got stuck behind a tractor' is a perfectly valid reason for being late.
• We eat Tayto sambos for lunch, and ham sandwiches on the way to Croke Park.
• You can insert the name of a gardening tool into any sentence and it still makes sense, e.g. 'I had a rake of drink last night' or "I'll be out in a minute, I'm just shoveling down the dinner'.
• Its perfectly acceptable to call your mother 'mammy' even though you are a fully grown adult.
• Saying 'Now we're sucking diesel' means that you are happy with the outcome of the situation.
• Drinking 'tae' is everyone's favourite past time.
• You're scared of the wooden spoon.
• The word 'like' goes in every sentence.
• You can say "Any craic' to a garda and you won't get arrested.
• 'The dogs' bollocks' means something brilliant

Oh deah

Just.  Just when I thought I had enough to make a payment on the credit card (having JUST paid #1 back for my internet page) the car broke.  Broke!!!

Was delivering a cake to Artane, wasn't meant to be as am still (week 3 and counting) sick but B. hates doing it, when car broke down.  Thought I'd run out of petrol, how embarrassing, so Himself came, nos. 2 and 3 in the back of the car, grabbed B. and a huge castle cake and they legged it to Artane.  I waited in the car and soon they were back again with a thingie of diesel.  Yeah.  Turned out it wasn't a 'you're a gobshite and you ran out of petrol' issue but instead a 'the car is bolloxed' thing.   So Axa's roadside assist said it would take an hour for someone to get to me and then asked 'what do you want us to do when we get to you?'  Eh?  "I want you to fix my sodding car".  Turns out they can only fix it if it's something other than injector airlocks.  Sigh.

So.  Back to being skint.  Quite frustrating to nearly, ever so nearly, get close to getting straight only for it to go tits up. Again.

Question:  What do Winnie The Pool and John The Baptist have in common?

Answer:  The same middle name.  Boom boom.

Sigh

I'm an adult.  An adult woman with friends who like me so why, oh why do I feel so upset doing drop off and pick up of the youngest Geraghty?

I've got mates from #1's class and some lovely pals from #2's class but #3??  Nowt.  No one wants to know me.  It shouldn't hurt but it kind've does.  The really irritating thing is . . it's not like I want new friends anyway as I'm struggling to keep up with the ones I have anyway.

So why am I so upset that these women say hello one day and blank me the next?  They are all so . . . grown up, or serious, or something?  Most of them are on their first kid in the school and are very serious but . .  all so grown up.  I'm obviously far too immature for them.  Must remember to grow thicker skin and not to care so much.  Arse.

Oops

# 2 really, really wanted to go see the Mummies in the National Museum of Ireland so we did.  # 1 said he really, really loved his mummy!  I guess that's me.  

Turns out I have a very short attention span  . . . I got bored before the kids did.  Seriously.  Bored, bored, bored.  Was just short of saying 'can we go now' several times.  We saw the bog men, the vikings and the mummies and . . . I got given out to for running up the stairs.  Kids got such a kick out of seeing their ma getting a telling off.  We each ran up the opposite staircase to each other and I got caught.  I got caught and given out to.  

One day I will grow up.  

One day.

Jesus but I've gotten bad at this

Apologies for not writing sooner but it really has been mental.  Cakes, kids, markets and . . . doctor visits.  Bleaugh.

Today I went and was seen to by my lovely doctor.  I am now babyproof for the next five years.  One of the things my doctor had to do was 'clean my uterus', it is as foul as it sounds by the way and my cries of 'but it hasn't been used in 6 years' fell on dear ears.  Ick.

# 2 needs a new football strip, he is besotted with his Man Utd. one, but that one is in the wash so he has to wear his Juventus one.  Thing is, the shorts!!  They are short shorts!  Very short shorts.  So short in fact it looks like he is a slapper young wan and just wearing a t-shirt  He will not be parted from them so he is out there, playing football, looking like a slapper.  But what can you do eh?

# 1 is getting better looking.  You sometimes forget to look at your kids don't you?  You don't notice them getting sun kissed and loaded with freckles.  But I did today and my boy looks fabulous.

# 3???  I took him to judo on Monday and he had a match (fight??) and his opponent was Alex, a five year old girl.  She beat him.  He beat her.  She beat him.  "Best out of five????" says yer man.  Shame a bout only lasts three fights.  He reckons he'll get her next time.

He came into our bed last night cos he wanted a cuddle.  His timing was shite though as, drum roll please, I'm coming off anti-depressants at the moment.  The time feels right so I think it's time to give it a go.  It's a tricky one and you have to be monitored by your doc.  I see a lot of my doc at the moment.  Anyway, he came into bed.  We fell asleep and then I woke around 2am with the heebie jeebies.  I don't know what # 3 ate before bed but his breath was foul.  It smelled like cat food or something.  So . .  I watched . . . amazed as he turned into a kitten.  I swear to God.  My son turned into a cat.  The bird hanging out of the ceiling started to swoop and the rational bit of my brain thought 'fuck this for a trip'.  I'll stick with it but bugger it's hard.  Himself came up to me and put the kitten away and turned into bear before falling asleep.

Mental illness anyone?

End of an era

Today I took a test and failed.  

Hmmmmm?  For the past few weeks I've been quietly nervous about something.  I thought I might be pregnant, sore boobs and the like.  But, I have a coil in.  A coil that is now just a coil and not loaded with anti-pregnancy hormones because apparently they ran out in February.  I forgot they ran out.  

So today I went to the doctor for a check up and to enquire about a new coil.  

She did a pregnancy test.

I failed.

I am not pregnant.

I think I'm a little bit sad.  

God, but I'm hard to please.

I was nervous that I was pregnant because I am now close to 39.  Himself isn't working and we have three boys who put a fairly hefty strain on purse strings etc. what with school books and shoes.  Never mind the endless food they eat.  Boys in this house just eat and grow.  A baby would have been pressure.

But now there is no baby and by getting the merina in I am basically saying no more babies.  The hormones last five years, by then I'll be 44 and, well, that's that not what I want at 44.

But I'm a little bit sad.  Actually, I'm more than a little sad.  

Guest Towels

Do you have them for your guests?  I do.  I say 'I' because Himself isn't aware that any such thing exists.  Surely towels are just towels?  Right?  Nope!!

Had a very super quick shower this afternoon.  Was covered in icing sugar and cake detritus and, oh the shame, but I started sneezing furiously and . . .  I peed a little!!!!  There were no towels flung over the Bannister to air (is mine the only house that uses towels after the kids use them??) so I grabbed a towel from the press.  But it was tiny.  Well, slightly bigger than hand towel but no bath sheet.  There, chilling out in the back of the press, were the pile of fluffy white and delicious ice cream coloured stripe towels that are reserved for visitors and visitors only!!!!

Only thing is.  No one comes to visit.  We have people over all the time for dinner, supper, plain old drinking but rarely do they stay the night.  I think it's the thought of them being awoken by #2 standing over them.  Staring.  Willing them awake that has put so many of our friends off.  Either way, we have FOUR beautiful, soft, fluffy guest towels that no guest ever uses.  Because there are no guests.

So why am I saving them?  Why am I using the knackered towels, some of which are older than #1 when I have such delights in the hot press?

Am I the  only one?  Hmmmm?

Short story long, I used the lovely towels and it is now draped over the bannister for the next grub-ster than comes along.

Whilst I think of it.  I also have 'special' teapots, cups and saucers, cake plates, milk jugs!!! Sugar bowls and candles that only ever see the light of the day when someone special comes to tea.  When I really know them, and they really know me, we revert to teabag in a cup (unless there is more than two), big mugs, milk carton on table and biscuits straight out of the pack.  Damn it, I so want to impress and I just can't.

Easter

What a weekend.  We cancelled all of my lot coming over for dinner as I was knackered.  This is on a Thursday btw.  Cancelled everyone and then I kept on at Himself to ring his ma and da and get us invited to theirs for Easter Sunday  He eventually rang them on Easter SATURDAY only to find out they were away for the weekend.  Have you any idea how hard it is to track down the makings of a nice Easter dinner the day before you need it?  Well, let me tell you, it's impossible.  Shops shut early for once and we were left lamb-less.  Sigh.

Then a cake I made, then remade, came apart on it's way to it's party.  Utter bloody disaster.  I still don't fully understand why but it did.  Full refund back to customer and a shitload of stress for me.  As I don't fully know how he fell apart I don't know how to stop it happening again.  I definitely know that tall cakes should not be over-driven to their final destination and that heat and fondant still hate each other.  What's a real pisser about the whole thing is that the cake was brilliant.  You can see so from the photo. Aaagh.

Raced home from Market on Saturday leaving Himself in charge.  Complete with my frilly/flowery apron.  The boy did good though and people loved him.  I finally got to hang out with the people on my estate and help set up the easter egg hunt (I hid eggs!) and then the kids were let loose.  They were mental.  I had no idea there were so many kids living around here.  Tonnes of 'em.  Poor #1 took part in a three legged race and got pulled ALONG THE GROUND, bouncing all the way, the length of the course.  It was so funny.  #3 was disgusted to find the egg and spoon race was actually an egg and potato race.  He'd been hoping to race with one of the mutant eggs I bought at the market. 

What else?  Oh yeah, CAROL HAD A BABY GIRL.  TEN POUNDS SIX OUNCES.  ORLA.  Can you tell I'm excited  I'm also feeling a little hard done by.  She promised me a 

god-daughter but instead gave me the beautiful Ciaran.  Harumph, if she had've said she was going again I would have gambled and passed on my boychild.  

No.  I wouldn't.  Honestly.  Seriously!!!y

Kids had a mini easter hunt around house yesterday.  #2 still believes in the Easter Bunny which caught me on the hop.  He is so innocent it's lovely.  They had their Easter Egg Hunt.  They ate lots of eggs.  I fell back asleep.  Was woken by a kick to the arse, thankfully I didn't start giving out as it was Himself with breakfast for me.  Mmmmm, rasher and egg bagel and a cup of cha.  Ate that, read some of my book then zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  Woke up, thought about getting out of bed and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Half Three!!!!!!  That's when I eventually hauled myself out of my pit.  3.30pm!!! 15.30hrs.  Bloody hell.  I was shatttered.  Went back to bed at 8.30 and slept till 7am this morning.  The mad thing is . .  I'm still yawning.  I get sleepy when I'm stressed.  Work is stressing me  Himself was stressing me.  Carol was stressing me (I was scared for her) and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz  

Actually, today we're going to the in-laws to get the dinner I was hoping for yesterday.  Am bringing laptop so as to upload a of Paddy's cds.  Everytime he lends me one I lose the bloody thing and have to buy him a new sone.  

What to do?

I started this blog so I could talk about what's what.  Shame people have started to recognise themselves!!  Nah, it's all good but I did start this to keep myself sane and just chat about what it's like to be me.  I thought other mammies would realise that we're all in this together and that no one of us is really doing it any better or any worse than each other. 

Recently something happened.  A friend, in a roundabout way (without meaning it, I'm sure) said something that really hurt my feelings.  Feelings are shitty things.  You can't help how you react (silence in my case) but now it's really shitty.  I'm who I am.  Just me.  I just get on with life and try to do the best I can by everyone around me.  I'm not always successful but I'll give it a go.  But someone hurt my feelings by talking out of turn and I have hurt theirs by not saying anything.  Tricky

Since I last wrote

Two of my boys have aged a whole year!!  # 1 is now ten and # 2 is now 7.  Have had a ball with them over the last week.  Seem to be getting work/life/balance stuff in, er, balance.  Of course now that I've put this down on paper, so to speak, it's all go tits over arse and fall apart again.  Still, it's nice while it's lasting.

The birthday boys got a playstation and a Little Big Planet 2 game between them for their birthday present and . .  I am Little Big Planet-outted again.  It never stops.  It's, like, y'know, the coolest game, like, EVER!!!!!  You can ride ducks and camels.  Bearing in mind I'm from Dublin and when I heard the word 'ride' I got an awful fit of the giggles.  

They're all playing happily-ish together and I have no cakes to do until Friday so all is good.  Remarked to #3 earlier that he is getting a lovely colour to which he replied 'thanks' and 'what colour???'  A perfectly valid question I suppose.  # 2, sitting on me and making it difficult to type, has also got a good healthy glow about him these days  I don't but that's because I rarely see sunshine, sigh.  No, not true.  I spend a lot of time outdoors, just happens that most of it is under a gazebo selling cupcakes. 

None other news.  The lovely Ms. C was in hospital until today - they released her just in time  for Mr. C to go back to work and let her take over the running of the madhouse.   I don't think she'll be going after baby # 5 somehow.  Not long to go on baby # 4 so it's all getting very exciting.

What else?  Nowt?  #1 is mooching around the kitchen, trying to sneak food out without me seeing.  As if!!!??? Especially as I started dieting today and have become obsessed with food.  Such a pain in the arse that when you decide not to eat certain things it's all you can think of.  Had to leave the house today when Himself had a packet of King.  Oh, but the pain.  And speaking of pain, the poor borrowed boy's dad was in an awful state today.  The borrowed boy, whilst (thankfully) in his da's care, fell and walloped his head off his Thomas the Tank Engine.  Cue the BIGGEST egg shaped lump on the Borrowed Boy's head.  Poor man still looked green when he came to collect the boyo this evening  All of mine have had mega eggs on their heads at some time or another so I feel his pain but    . .  it's great when you're three kids down hte line and you know these things happen no matter how carefully you try to not let them happen.  What's even more great is the fact . . . IT DIDN'T HAPPEN HERE!!!  Phew.

Stuff

Had a very lovely day today.  Sunshine and friends.  More sunshine and then I come home from kickboxing to find the lovely Duncan has left in 846!!!!!! flakes for our cupcake stall.  Holy Moly.  Well, there was 846.  Now there is 838,  We had to test them you see.  A couple of times!!

Went back (I tried typing that word 'back' in several times but kept typing 'bake') to kickboxing tonight and boy am I going to be sore tomorrow.  Which isn't a good thing as I have a big cake to put together.  Also paid my €55 to make sure I go back next week.  And the week after.  I so want to be a skinny girl.  

No news as such.  The lovely Ms. C has been confined to hospital and bedrest as she is now unable to walk unaided.  She's got a big bubba in her belly.  Normally Ms. C would be stressed at being confined to bed but she is so tired she nearly fell at the nurse's feet in gratitude.  Shall go see her on Friday and bring magazines.  Lots and lots of magazines.  Then I have to come home and make 200 cupcakes for Saturday and a birthday cake for # 2.  Originally he wanted a Thriller style cake but I managed to veto that so I am going to surprise him with a Little Big Planet cake.  Very excited.  #1 got several burgers dropped into his class last Friday by yours truly.  He's had fast food theme cakes for the past couple of years so this year, with his lovely teacher's permission, I made every kid a burger that was a cake.  April Fools and all that.  

Oh, and that was mental in itself.  The lovely Ms. M. offered to help me out because she could see that I was getting really stressed with all that was going on last week so she said she'd make #1's burgers.  "Will make 'em out of whoopie pies".  I was thrilled, I had a wedding cake and a New York theme cake going cake out on the same day so was happy for all the help I could get.  So, Himself went to Ms. M's house to drop off my cupcakes for the market stall and collected the burgers.  He arrived in with a bowl of burgers and I asked him where the rest of it was,  "Where are the burgers?".  "This is all I got".  "Aaagh".  Then . . . . a  . . .  slow . . .  dawning happened.  I asked for burgers and I got burgers.  If I'd wanted the burger bun I should have asked for it.  It's that AmericanIrish breakdown in communication me and Ms. M. sometimes have.  It was funny.  Not at the time but the next day it was very, very funny.  

No funny kid stuff today.  # 1 is turning into moody teenagers three years too early.  # 2 wants sand to turn his weird looking paper monster into a proper stone gargoyle (haven't the nerve to tell him I'm NOT buying PLAYSAND!!!  But instead an going to sneak down to the beach on Saturday and nick a zippy bag's worth.  #3 is not feeling well.  Which means we're all suffering.  He and I are very much cut from the same cloth.  I was moaning at Himself because we were having shepards pie AGAIN?  Only to have # 3 come in and do the same.  Ungrateful feckers the pair of us. Especially me, I haven't made a dinner in  months. MONTHS!!!  So, in that case, can I really complain if I'm reduced to eating man meals?

Yup, I still hate papier mache or however the hell you spell it.

# 2 has been hounding me for weeks (I do mean WEEKS) now to make him a gargoyle.  Out of paper.  To attach to his bed.  Apparently it's a 'fourpartattack'.  Bleugh.  From the programme 'art attack'.  We recorded it about a year ago and I deleted it about 11 months ago.  It's much harder to make off stupid silly teeny, tiny pictures off the web.  Much harder.  And I'm bloody arty.

One of the hardest things is he wants to take over and make it all by himself.  Hmmm?  Yeah!!

Y'see, I'm a perfectionist.  Well, I try to be.  So for me to sit down and make a gargle out of pva glue and last week's Irish Times and kitchen roll and then not be allowed to ensure the wings are straight.  Or that he does have a snout and it's not lopsided is proving very difficult.  Thankfully he got distracted by Sponge bob so I was able to er, reshape it whilst he looked away.  Oi!  Don't judge me.  I know you remake the Christmas tree after the kids have decorated it!

Either way, both with and without my help, the gargoyle is drying on the kitchen counter  Slap bang in the middle of it to be precise because I put it there when I chased after the borrowed boy and his poopy arse and it stuck!  The gargoyle not the poopy arse.

Tomorrow I have to go and buy 10kg of play sand so I can cover the gargoyle in pva glue, cover the table in a protective covering and cover the gargoyle in sand.  So he looks like he's made of stone!!  Then I get to paint it. Or rather, watch it being painted and then help to shade it in properly when # 2 has gone to bed.

The shite thing about the whole thing is now #3 wants to make one too. But he wants his to be bigger (of course).

Still, not really complaining as the very fact that I have made a gargoyle with #2 and finger puppets with #3 (last week) means I am slowly, but surely, getting back on track to doing something with the boys.  I've been so out of it with cakes and looking for cake stuff and dreaming about cakes that I was in danger of spending no real time with them.  I mean, I was physically here but mentally?  Miles away.  

Gargoyles are hard to make.  Finger puppets easier   Yeah, it seems to be balancing out.  Life that is not the sodding gargoyle that #2 made.  I should have interfered earlier.

Doncha love it when it's sunny?

Am sitting in the garden enjoying the last rays of sunshine and typing this.  Typing this and fending off # 2.  Typing this and, at the same time as fending off #2, I'm looking for new cake recipes.  Aaagh.  Think it's time to go back inside.  

However, it's sunny and the last rays of sunshine always have that delicious orange-y glow that makes you feel happy so perhaps I'll stick it out

# 2 is having the WORST DAY EVER as neither Himself or myself want to go out with him whilst he cycles around the estate.  I don't want to go because I'm searching for the perfect recipe - the cakes I thought were perfect, I made them today, are too cinnamon-y, so cinnamon-y in fact you can't taste the apple.  Himself is making his baked ham so he is definitely not allowed to leave the kitchen.

Poor # 2.  A great dinner and a fabulous dessert and he's still not happy.  Pah!

Oooh, just remembered that I have a Mad Men boxset.  I think I shall sneak upstairs and feck the perfect recipe.

What???b

We went out to DunLaoghaire today.  It was such a sunny day and they have such a good food market out there we decided to give it a go.  I got to pick the music for the car too so today we had Nevermind by Nirvana and The Stone Roses by the Stone Roses.  But that's not the 'what' was about.  Himself is driving and #1 pipes up from the back and says:

#1  Dad, did you know that petrol is over a pound sterling in England now?

Himself.  Nope.

# 1  Dad, but Bull Sperm is £12,000stg per litre.  Way dearer.

Himself.  @>!????

Me.       WHAT???

Yeah, he's got his finger on the pulse alright has my son.  

I recommend everyone go to DunLaoghaire for the market.  I had lovely Chinese dumplings.  #1 had falafel and #s 2 and 3 had both sausage sambos from Irish free range pigs.  The man selling the sausages said he both loved his pigs for their company and their flavour!  Yum.  Actually, had a really nice time.  Just so pleasant to be chilling out and hanging out together.  We did pass a couple who were resting against the fence on the seafront.  She was expecting and I have a feeling it was their first child.  I got that feeling because they kept looking at the lads and the muck and state of them as they play fought and laughed and shouted and smiling at each other.  When the fighting got a little less playful and a touch more competitive they looked a little more worried.  I told them that 'no, they never stopped' and 'yes, it was worth it'.  

We also had a conversation on the way home about the word 'adored'.  As in 'what does it mean?'  Said it meant loved.  #3 wanted to know what a board had to do with being loved and then # 3 said he was bored too and .. . .   Still, it's official.  They like the Stone Roses.

Oh and #1 asked if I so needed girlie stuff in the house why didn't I just paint the PlayStation pink???

And, we all had our first 99 of the year.  Happy days.

Shall tell you about my non pointy elbows and dinner out last night during the week.