I think I will just ramble on a bit I suppose.
|It's not actually a book.|
|Did a which friend are you quiz tonight, well it was either that or write a poem. I decided to do Lexi's poetry contest and instead had a grand old time reading her blog. One day she just did a pile of quizzes and posted the results. I was hugely excited when I saw a quiz about what sci fi crew i might belong to, but not so thrilled when I had never heard of the answer. Then discovered I was Monica in Friends. Not too surprising.
Sadly once again I am prevented from writing any more by my beloved babies.
|It is probably not because I just turned forty that I decided it was time to do something about the ramshackle place we call home but after ten years of living here while always planing to move, we are now up to our necks in virtual debt. I say virtual because so far although we have committed to spend money on four different projects, not much has yet been paid.
We got a new floor in our bedroom and it looks so smart that it was heart breaking to have to movve back in all the horrid old mismatched furniture older richer people gave us to tide us over until we could afford to buy good stuff (never). The room also looked quite large for the hour or so before everything got piled back in again. Still at least I know that I will soon have a built in wardrobe and then all this stuff can go to the dump.
I have been completely ignoring my poor kids for the last two days since most of the time was spent carrying everything out of the room and then back in again. I realised that the reason we had no storage space left and that all the cupvboards were stuffed is because of all the clothes the husband and I have been storing until we suddenly turn back into the slim young people we were when we met. I'm beginning to think that turning forty and still looking as if I had a baby yesterday but sadly misplaced it, is a sign that I'm never going to. Mind you the husband looks much the same and he has never produced a baby (as far as I know). I half expected to find a few of them stuffed behind the wardrobe when I moved it, but only found a few surprised spiders.
Had dinner last night with a dear friend who is delightfully slim and beautiful and she spent the night telling me how she would give anything to be forty and chunky and have babies. Anything except her figure and fun lifestyle, I suspect. Everytime a nice young man comes her way, she sighs and decides he is just not good husband material. I told her that if we all thought that way we would never marry. I suspect I am not the only person who married a guy because he was fun and handsome and kind and expected that we would have fun and be cool young marrieds. The husband was nothing like a married man and in fact he still isn't.
The kind of married men my friend is looking for are invariably someone else's husband. Still, it is nice to be envied for somehting more than your ability to make truly disgusting faces. The dog lover (7) reckons this is my greatest talent. You're not much good at anything else, he often remarks (playstation, football and lego mainly) but you do make horrible faces. I am proud of that too.
The film director (10) had a nasty experience today when he started playing with a new bunch of kids. Since I am an insane, over protective Mammy I have not let him play out on the street much. All the other kids in the neighbourhood do play out though so I finally agreed he could this summer. He was thrilled for two days. Today though, a bunch of them started to call him names and he came home furious at first then devastated that people could hate him so much. I found it very difficult not to run down the street and beat the life out of them all myself. Why OH why are children so cruel? There is nothing you can do to make that better. I first wanted to say he could never go out again, now that I have calmed down a bit, I'm hoping he will and that he will find that they don't all hate him...but what if they do?
|Have not been able to write anything for days, oddly enough I have had plenty of time so it's not that -it's just that for some reason Niamh's story has wandered off into the recesses of my brain and something else has come forward but, as much as I try it does not want to go on record yet. When I try to write it down, it too retreats and hides behind the curtains, blushing, I will have to be patient.
We have been very busy in the house pledging to spend ridiculous amounts of money on three seperate projects, 1 a new room and a kitchen refurbishment, 2 doing up the bathroom, 3 our bedroom. We have committed to spend E28,000, E8,900 and E2,800 respectively. Just about 40,000. Which is tight, because we are borrowing 30,000 and have 14,000 so it had better not go over budget!
Mind you it is time as for the last ten years I have been too embarrassed to allow any of my friends to enter my house. I have made so many half-arsed excuses that they actually think I am a deeply private person and like to keep my public and private lives entirely seperate. No, I just hate my house. I always thought we would move but unless we win the Lotto tonight I am resigned to staying where we are! An ordinary three bed-roomed house in Dublin costs about half a million euro. Even my house is apparently "worth" 350,000. Since that would involve spending considerable mre than 40,000 we are not moving!
I am very excited about the new house we will have when this is all over but to be honest I am also terrified of not having any savings. I like to save. It is very reassuring.
|Yahoo!! somebody actually read something I wrote and commented on it. How fabulous, I feel like a real member of this site. If only everything would go so smoothly. I should of course be in bed now, getting enough sleep to get up nice and early and do some work tomorrow. I am of course dreadfully behind in my work and have to meet a deadline by four pm tomorrow which I simply cannot. However I am in great form. My husband bought me an ipod nano for my birthday and showed it to me today to check it was the right thing. (if you ask for an ipod and he buys an ipod, how could it not be the right thing?). I am really looking forward to getting it on Sunday but in our family birthday presents are always kept secret until the big day. So he had to take it away and wrap it up witht the dids. The Princess was dreadfully excited and had been warned by the boys not to tell me what it was. so she ran in to me and said "Mammy I am not going to tell you about your present".The doglover who is very law abiding and had been told to keep it a secret, howled in horror and ran over shouting at her to say nothing more. She turned in outrage and said "I told her I am not going top tell her!" cue more outrage etc.this continued all evening. As long as no-one ever tells her a real secret...
|I really don't have any time. How do those bloody yummy mummies you always see in the tabloids manage? they all admit gracefully that juggling career and motherhood is difficult, but oh! they gush, so rewarding. Juggling the washing up and the cooking is difficult enough for me. I have a job but long ago stopped calling it a career. It is three thirty am my time and here I am thumping away at my computer because only now can I get any peace. How sad is that? It is all very well siging up to writing.com but will I get to use it? who knows?
|Lord knows how long I have but I'm sure it's not very long. That's the thing about being the parent of a four year old. You are always trying to grab a few minutes to do something for yourself but I'm already being interrupted to admire the dog who has been dressed up in a gilet belonging to little brother. I have always wanted to be a writer but the main thing that puzzles me is how people find the time. I have to work of course which takes up ten hours a day and then there's housework...so very much of it and then, of course, the children. I constantly feel l guilty because I spend so little time with them, but when in their company can only see the housework that needs doing. Most of what I euphemistically call housework just to make myself feel better is just picking up and tidying up and putting away. Small people are so messy!!!!!
I actually got to do a spot of creative writing for the first time in years the other day when I was supervising an exam. It was very exciting. Mostly I just start things I don't finish, which may happen again with this, of course.
A break there while I was presented with an imaginary present of some birds, bird food and a bird mirror. Apparently it's my birdday. This is due to a misunderstanding when the princess was talking to another child yesterday who insisted that in her family they all had birddays. The princess, unaware that this was just a manifestation of a strong Dublin accent, was most impressed and demanded to know why we did not celebrate birddays. My pathetic attempt to conflate birddays and birthdays was rejected out of hand as typical adult cynicism. The princess is now silently condemning my selfish attitude by relentlessly celebrating birddays.
I will soon have to stop as the princess has decided hat she will sit on my knee for the rest of the session. She is well aware that it makes typing difficult but does not care.