In which I am a big fail, again

If you looked inside my brain it would be a great big list of stuff to worry/fret/ agitate over like...

I have overbooked the villa by a night. This is not good, you don't go on holiday and then expect to share your bed with a stranger unless there has been a bit flirting and some alcohol involved. You tend not to be amenable to the idea because your landlady is an arse. Your landlady should always check and double check she has selected the correct date from the drop down menu. Your landlady will never have same day turnarounds again, I will work on a strict system of leaving on a Tuesday? next guest can only arrive on a Wednesday. It will be much better for everyone. I am gutted that I have done this and believe me I am trying everything to get it sorted out. I am a technophobic arse who now feels the sweat of doom tricking down her back when she hears or reads 17th August.

EBD student finance application - I can't support her application until I find the 2 P60's I lost when doing my tax return for the 2nd time because I am a form filling numpty arse and cocked it up the first time. I also need council tax statemnts, child benefit statements and tax credit letters. I have no idea where I put them to keep them safe . I hate forms with a passion and will procrastinate till the end. This is now the end.

In addition to the lost stuff above I cannot find The Beautiful Son's bankbook, this is annoying him as he wants to pay some birthday money in and take some out to buy a new bike and understandably he wants it now, his exams are finished and he wants to be off with his mates. I am an "I'll put it in a safe place" arse

I bumped into someone's car and I have got to fill in an insurance claim again. I have had 3 bumps in 20 years, 2 of them have been in the last 7 months. I am an arse who can't judge distance.

I should have sent a letter registered post, I didn't and I am now worried it's gone astray. A "should have been more organised" arse.

I can't remember the last time I cooked a meal for my children from scratch.

I seem to spend my life saying to the children "can't you see I'm working?" ever such a lot.

My lovely teaching parenting skills, aka kissing squishing babies work, the group I set up 10 years ago is closing. The place I rent my room from is closing down and I haven't the energy or impetus to find new premises with a multi sensory room attached for the babies. I used to do it 3 times a week, now down to a Tuesday morning only, I would be sad about it if I could find the spare brain space.

This is in addition to the usual worries of

my weight
my wrinkles and grey hair
my "I'm not an expert at work" yet
my "I don't earn enough money to keep them in Jack Wills"
my Dad and my sister's health
my " oh my God, how much have I damaged them with the divorce"

Again I am running on empty, I am utterly exhausted. Thank you for listening

TMI

I work on a strictly need to know basis. I can only cope with so much reality at a time. Then I don't have to get myself worked up to either full fat grumpiness or cross shouty shreikyness on a daily basis. Because I have 3 children plus a Hot Boy so you know there are plenty things to get me up to 90 (that probably doesn't translate outside of Scotland/Ireland, it means in a tizzy)

Beautiful Baby Daughter has been going to Girls Brigade for the last 3 years, I have said before I have nothing but gratitude and admiration for people who volunteer in any activity for the benefit of other peoples children.

BBD has come home with a letter which has given me far too much information.

I have found out that 1 of the 19 year old young leaders is pregnant
That she has been in a relationship with the father for nearly a year
That she is not married
That the other leaders and chaplain feel she should stand down as a leader because she hasn't promoted Jesus's guidelines in her own life but she can still attend the group so they can offer her "support and friendship"
That they "do not condone her behaviour" and they accept that "we all make mistakes" and they will allow her to become a young leader again "when her personal life becomes more stable"

I don't like the tone of the letter at all, I can appreciate that it must have been a difficult situation for the Church, they have to promote Christian values but they also have to survive in a world where the majority of people don't abide by the 10 commandments. I just feel it has been very clumsily handled.

The letter wasn't in an envelope just a typed sheet given to the girls to hand on to parents. Does reading that letter make a young girl feel bad about herself because her parents weren't married in the first place? Does reading that letter make a girl feel bad because her parents are divorced? Does reading that letter make a girl feel bad because she might also be having sex (the group has girls aged up to 18 in)?

Now I wonder did I need to know all that? But now I do and it just doesn't sit well with me. My usual default setting is to let it go, it doesn't really affect me but I now have had to think on this, because they wrote to me and I have an opinion now, and as the Church has felt the need to give me all this information I now want to give the Church my take on this.

Dear Church

He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.

Yours sincerely

auntiegwen

Another fine place we can go back to

Hello my lovely internets, did you have a good weekend?

Now that all our restraining orders have been lifted, the family von strange aka auntiegwen and the weans went out for brunch to celebrate the bold boy being 16. We went to Roodys because Katyboo keeps blogging about how great it was. If you want to look at cake porn click on the word Roodys and the magic bloggy fairy shall take you there.

And it was, we had paninis, we had milkshakes, we had cupcakes, we had pancakes, we had icecream, we had a squidy thing made with curly wurlys. We also had what I call space dust (I'm of an age) you may call it popping candy.

Like Katyboo says, it looks great, the food tastes fab and the service is amazing. Please go if you're around that part of the world, we had a 30 minute drive to get there and we weren't disappointed.

And the best bit?

The best bit of all?

They didn't turn a hair when Hot Boy tried to snort his space dust like cocaine. What? he has an enquiring mind. If you also are curious, let me save you the trouble, nothing happens and you are left with a very sticky nose.

You're welcome.

A chuisle mo chridhe

Tomorrow The Beautiful Son will be 16. I love being his Mummy, although he drives me round the bend with...

his omnipresent moaning about how slow our Internet speeds are
his work shy tendencies
his eat anything and worry about ownership later stuff
his ability to wind both his sisters up to cross, shouty, shreikyness
his complete disinterest in revising for any test or exam
his total obsession with stripping down his bike/Call of Duty/youtube/facebook and twitter

BUT

He still talks to me.
He still kisses me and hugs me at least once a day.
He makes me howl with laughter in a way no one else can.
He knows when I'm upset when no one else notices.
He said on FaceBook (which makes it official) that I was the person in the whole world he was closest to.

I wouldn't change a thing, he makes me happy and I love him. Jack, a chuisle mo chridhe.

You'll pay for that...

Is it just me who thinks that if something nice happens it will inevitable be followed by something not so nice just to redress the balance? I have just had a wee jolliday to the Algarve, I had days of sun lolling around here...


And evenings eating and drinking around here...



And for my penance?

Just as I'm enjoying the last bit of sun I get a text from Beautiful Baby Daughter which reads "It's not a matter of life and death but what time are you getting back as we need to tidy up?" So I immediately think Jesus it must be horrendous if they're thinking they need to tidy, they could quite happily live in a skip normally.

When I was on the plane a text arrived saying "if you want coffee you may want to buy milk" I left 12 pints on Tuesday as I went to Waitrose just before I left. The mahoosive shop I did before I left had been eaten so as soon as I'm home back to Waitrose I go.

The washing basket which was empty when I left had been filled up and had a pile just as high beside it left for me, the washing machine had also had a nice break just like me and the nice days of sunshine which would have dried the washing a treat were a mere memory as yesterday it rained biblically because I had 3 machine loads to do and dry. And iron.

The dishwasher has packed up, it won't drain gawdonlyknows what they've put in it while I've been away.

My lifesize cardboard cutout of David Tennant was missing when I got back, I later found him in the wardrobe. Since then he has been found right outside The Beautiful Son's bedroom door, in my bed and this morning was last seen in the children's shower cubicle. What can I say? this passes for entertainment in my house.

So, I has a nice few days off which were preceded with me doing a weeks worth of work stuff and home stuff before I went and have been followed with a weeks worth of work stuff and home stuff to catch up on.

Remind me again, who had a break?

A game of 2 halfs

Once upon a time this blog was filled with tales of nights out, drinking, flirting and gigs. Now it's filled with tales of kitchen porn and The White Company. It's so hard to keep my reckless middle aged streak at bay.

Readers, in a last ditch attempt to redress the balance, I shall regale you of my Saturday night out.


I went all the way up to Sheffield to see Kasabian. Incidentally the support band Modern Faces were brilliant, another great band singing in their own accents.

One up to the recycled teenager within.

I was right up at the front, 3rd row from the stage, not in the upstairs viewing area with seats, oh no, down with the moshers, close enough to see Tom Meigham's spots and be envious of his ring finger tattoo.

Two nil

I got soaking wet in beer and other peoples sweat

Three nil

I got moshed and bashed around mainly by topless men.

Four nil

I wasn't wearing sensible shoes

Five nil

I didn't leave before the end, I stayed to hear the last song, even though that meant having to pay for an extra 2-4 hours in the car park, yep an extra £4 for 5 minutes. In the clip coming up, I was much nearer the front, just in front of Tom the lead singer.

Six nil.



I went to bed on a different day to when I got up.

Seven nil

Oh yes, I've still got it, middle aged, pah...

I shan't mention the fact that I was cross that it cost extra to book online even though you could only book online, or that it cost £10 to post them even though there was no option to collect in person or that they charged for ticket insurance or some such other nonsense and that the total cost bore no relation to the advertised price. No indeed, for that would make me sound middle aged.

And I shall gloss over the fact that getting covered in sweat and beer made we very wet and quite chilly on the drive home.

We won't go into my feet hurting quite a bit as they weren't in their usual fitflops. In fact they suffered the podiatral equivalent of vertigo.

We shall also make light of my attempts to master the iPhone (yes, eventually I too, have been appletized) and you don't need/want to know that the reason I succumbed to said iPhone was because the buttons and text on the BlackBerry pearl were just too small in the end.

And you are most definitely better off without the knowledge that my best friends mum (who I love dearly but is a pensioner) was giving me tips on using said iPhone and said to me, in the most helpful manner, "if you turn it sideways it makes the keys bigger and easier to type"

Which would have been so much better if it hadn't been preceded with the query to my best friend asking "how can I reply to Wendy if she texts me?"

I think we'll call it a draw, you're not counting any more

Thank you

... for all your good wishes and thought, prayers and virtual hugs. Unfortunately when my sister went for her scan there was no heart beat. It must be devastating to hear that once but for the 4th time, I can't imagine.

So thank you, it's nice to know people care.

News from The Mother Country

I have been home on a wee quick jaunt to see The Beautiful Parents. All is not as good as it could be.

Gadget Mad Dad back in the day worked for the gas board, fitting fires and cookers etc, as is a gas fitters wont. For the last few years he has been struggling with breathlessness and was diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease which was not entirely unexpected as he's been a smoker for 50 years plus. It now turns out that the main reason for this breathlessness is pleural plaques which are caused by asbestos exposure. There isn't anything that can be done really, except hope it doesn't turn into Mesothelioma which is the cancer caused by exposure to asbestos. The problems don't start until 30-40 years after exposure. Unfortunately, they both looked after my mums Uncle Ricky who died of this so they are more than a little apprehensive at what may be ahead of them. He is really struggling to breathe and this is the reason the beautiful parents didn't come with us to Turkey at Easter, they never miss their 2 weeks there at the beginning of May.

I try not to write too much about my sister and her deep deep need to have a 3rd baby, it's her private stuff but she has been trying for many years now and her last 3 pregnancies have ended in miscarriage. She is pregnant again but has had some cramping, so she's off for a scan this morning, I just hope that this time everything is okay.

Life gets a bit sucky sometimes doesn't it?