Curiosity Will Hopefully Kill The Cat

I'm having such feline issues today. 

Firstly is the baby bird, that I saw panting in the conservatory after Dude, I'm assuming collected from the ground, by the mass of trees that overhang the garden. Carefully picking it up with kitchen roll and lifting it into a lovely prepared new nest (a cut up box of Whiskers pouches and Indie's woolly hat) it gazed up, looking surprisingly alive.

Wrongly, I thought it would be safe in the shed for a few hours, giving it some time to recover and gain some energy. We could call it Steve. But alas, the vision of me feeding and caring for the bird faded as I saw it, screaming, in Dude's mouth once again. Stupid shed door and it's inability to close properly! 

I think the damage is unrepairable now. Dude dropped it as we chased her and it's looking awfully still, lying on it's side in the conservatory again.

Secondly, I remind you of my previous post  about the stray cat we have lurking around and inside our property.

I look out of the window, checking for rain as my favourite faux-fur blanket is hanging on the line, to see the stray cat cocking it's leg against it.

Now this blanket is luscious. It's dark brown and fluffy, like it's made from teddy bear. When lying in it naked, I feel like a cave-woman and I practically spent 2 years curled in it, lying on the floor next to the radiator, listening to Jeff Buckley.

This blanket and I have had moments, special moments. Now it's covered in stray cat piss.

The RSPCA were less than helpful advising me to "print out a paper collar from their website and attach it to the cat, to check if it has an owner." I reassured them that I valued my life and after the noises and disturbed behaviour the stray cat demonstrated when OH tried to befriend it, the act will not be repeated again.

If I post flyers across the village, speak to local residents and "Log what steps you have taken to locate an owner. As long as you can prove that ALL reasonable steps have been taken, and no owner is found, you can then go about finding a loving new home for the cat."

I...ME...I can go about finding a home!

I told them it was attacking my cats and Charlie was losing weight due to the stress. Also that it was a health hazard, the fact it was getting into our home and spraying on the baby's belongs and OH's computer monitor. She told me that MAYBE if I put my name on a waiting list, they would leave a cat trap then try and re-home it.

I'm considering reporting the horrible kids in the street that annoy me, for cat cruelty. The RSPCA would come running then surely, if they thought it was being harmed?

What I Tried To Say...

But you wouldn't listen.

I have dragged my children up over the last few years and they have trusted me every step of the way.
I broke up their family and made their father leave home. I took away the option for them to see him every day.

They watched and listened to my marriage crumbling, seeing and hearing things that children shouldn't, causing them nightmares about my safety.

They didn't blame me when they got un-invited to parties and became the "talked about" kids of the school

They didn't complain when they had to give up ballet, tap, hip-hop, drama, horse riding, football and swimming lessons when I had to go to work full-time and leave them with a child-minder instead.

They didn't breathe a word about their clothes looking worn and feeling smaller when I struggled to buy them any new belongings.

Even though they couldn't hide their disappointment at missing school fayres, birthday parties, and school discos etc due to my tiredness or being stuck at work, they didn't hold it against me.

They didn't compare their new birthday and Christmas budget with their previous years.

They didn't complain when their home was repossessed and they had 24 hours to find and move into somewhere new.

They helped pack up the old house, unpack at the new, then pack up again 2 months later and unpack at yours.

They trusted me when I asked them to move in with you, in another town, away from their friends and family.

They didn't even moan about the daily two hour commute to school for six months because they could see how happy I was.

They embraced moving to a closer school and didn't try to make me feel guilty about leaving their school friends.

Even though a little scared, they made new friends and started a child-minder, putting on brave faces.

They have fed themselves by packing their own lunch, making their own breakfast and tea, put themselves to bed and pretty much organised their own lives, understood me missing all of their school plays and assemblies, due to my incapability while suffering through pregnancy.

Even when they are frightened when we argue, they allow me to reassure them that I am safe,that you are safe.

They know when I feel tired, or sad and offer to help or hug me.

They were excited about us getting married and desperately want your surname too, despite knowing how infuriated their father was about the suggestion.

They accepted you as part of their family and love you completely.

They love their new baby sister and haven't shown a scrap of jealousy or need to adjust.


These are the reasons that will make me defend them against any slightly negative comment,  why I feel so proud and privileged to be their parent, why I will champion them at any opportunity, why I can sometimes appear lax with discipline, why I constantly explain to you, how well behaved they are compared to other children, why I take the blame for anything they do wrong and most importantly...

...why I don't care about the muddy shoe prints on the dashboard of the car.

Different Parts

Part of me wants to gloat. I've overcome my obstacles and rebuilt my life. Now I have the newborn daughter with the new husband.

Part of me isn't so mean. Plus, I can't really gloat anyway because this weekend has been challenging with OH. Maybe not challenging but at least disappointing and confusing.

I've been a really good friend today, to people that haven't necessarily deserved it.

I wish in my time of need that someone had come to see if I was okay, hadn't just turned up for the gossip or to smugly pass judgement. I offered the old-best-friend a weekend break at mine. To escape our hometown. For her to bring her three children to stay with my family, throwing the kids in one room for a fun-filled, popcorn-filled evening, whilst we drink enough to feel confident that our version of Poker Face on SingStar is better than Lady GaGa.

No questions would be asked about the state of her marriage or her plans for the future. She wouldn't have to feel embarrassed or failing. She could just drink some more, play on the giant garden trampoline with me and talk about the weather.

Part of me really feels sorry for her as she loves her horrid husband completely. Part of me thinks it's for the best and that she deserves better.

Feeling sad, I drove home along the same route that used to give me butterflies. The journey to his house all that time ago. The chevrons on the motorway still start the swirling feeling. By the time I saw the green lit hotel sign, shining next to the motorway, I knew I was nearly with him.
Tonight I wanted to walk straight into his arms, feeling lucky that I am not in the same position as my friends. But he spoke too soon and said the wrong thing.

Part of me hopes she does come to spend time with us.

Part of me thinks it's as much for my sake as hers.

Slightly Miffed

5 ish years ago my first marriage broke down.

A shock to all, neither of us having given a hint of any troubles or woes. 

It had been my decision to end it and even though he fought the inevitable every step of the way, he finally conceded and accepted I no longer loved him, eventually leaving our home, for me to begin a new life.

None of my friends or family knew about his dark side and the troubles we had experienced. Predictably, I struggled to convince them why I had ended a 9 year relationship after he visited EVERYONE to explain my obvious breakdown and mental unstability, not to mention my post-natal depression and my internet use. He was a victim and I was a selfish, bored adulteress that would rather be in chat-rooms or stealing money from his bank account, than be a mother to his children.

In reality, he was controlling and abusive. 

I lost most of my family and virtually all of my friends and became the talk of the playground. This was enhanced by the anonymous letters detailing my bad parenting (also my substance abuse and prostitution) that kept finding their way to the school headmistress. Luckily she saw the malicious intent and didn't call social services.

I used to be the perfect stay-at-home "soccer mum,"with the perfect children and the perfect marriage... I was deputy-chair of the PTA for christsakes and then everyone turned their back on me.

Even close friends whispered about me, when I started working full-time leaving my poor children with a child-minder!! Crime of the century!

One of my best friends stopped talking to me all together, just one day, she stopped. One day I was her bridesmaid-to-be wearing a vile gold concoction that made me look like an Oscar, the next minute she looked the other way when I walked past.

I didn't even have the energy to ask why.

I worked hard, determined not to claim any kind of financial support and luckily found a job I loved, that powered my confidence and gave me some wonderful new friends.

I often wondered about the best mate that abandoned me. I couldn't understand why she made comments to other mutual friends about how I "dumped" my children with a child-minder and became a "slut" when I started dating again.

I mean, she was the one claiming she was a single parent registering her fiancée at another address. She was using her wages from her waitress job (on the side) and her income support to pay for her upcoming wedding. 

I moved on in every sense.

Thanks to Facebook we have made contact again over the past year and with the help of mutual friends we have seen each other on a few occasions.

I was shocked to see her FB status updates the other day. She seemed really down and could maybe use company? Luckily I was back in my home town with the mutual best-mate. We called to check on her and were startled by the news.

She and her husband of three years, have separated. He has already moved out. There are no more details as of yet but mutual best-mate began to speculate.

Mutual best-mate never turned her back on me but she disapproved of my lifestyle greatly. I didn't care and was grateful that she told me to my face, then carried on being my, much needed friend.

She told me of how old-best-friend was on anti-depressants, as was she. How they were both unhappy with their marriages; sex lives over, no love between them and their partners etc. How they both were fed-up at home, bored of their lives, felt no achievement or satisfaction and longed for the confidence to go to work full time.

I felt so angry.

For such a long time I felt so judged, so wrong, such a failure. And it was people I cared about making me feel this way. 

Turns out it was jealousy, maybe fear.

I'm guessing though, that they will require my support during their time of need. Especially as I have been through it all and can offer guidance.

"Wishful thinking" springs to mind...

Three TImes A Lady

Well not a lady but I am feeling slightly more human.

We dabbled even more so last night. It wasn't even dabbling actually, it was the normal shabang...But better than normal.

My boy is truly making effort and it is god damn appreciated.

Thou shalt not go into detail...is my new mantra as much as I would love to.  I could talk explicitly about sex for hours, to anyone as I previously used to. My colleagues called it sex tourettes. It was mostly inappropriately timed and the content should never really be discussed with co-workers but it was an uncontrollable spasm which with maturity, is easing.

I guess I am using my blog to keep a record of doing the deed. Previous posts complaining about the lack of sex became a reference for me arguing to convey my concerns to OH. There has to be a balance so the good stuff needs to be recorded to. 

OH you did good last night, mucho points for trying...and succeeding!

On a post-pregnancy note, my body is still disappointing me but it's not nearly as bad as I expected and feared. It makes major difference to have his support though. Not that anything has been talked about but I sense that he knows how frightened I am about things. 

At least my libido is intact, that will never fade...ever!

Happy Times #1

Just had a flashback whilst unsuccessfully searching for song lyrics online...

...Lying on the living room floor as a child, with giant headphones on, pausing and playing my favourite songs on my Dads mammoth Hi-Fi whilst I scribbled down the words. Then spending hours re-jigging and deciphering them, hoping they may make sense.

Standing Up For Yourself...Priceless!

StreetDance 3D has been a beacon, calling my 10 year old daughter for weeks. Several failed attempts were made to watch it but it was all left down to me.

The first day of half term hadn't been wonderfully successful,10 year old girl and myself having a minor falling out, both in tears over my inadequate parenting skills. Her hopes and standards had clearly not been met for the days activities. Lots of huffing and stropping and "I'm bored" was heard all over the house.

I had arranged as a surprise to take the kids to tonight's screening of the film leaving OH with baby girl.

I don't begrudge spending money on the children but I knew a cinema trip would be expensive, wanting to pace my finances for the 10 days they are off school.

Redeeming myself, we arrive at the cinema foyer to purchases our tickets and munchies.

1 x adult ticket £6.60
3 x children's tickets £6.00 each £18 total.
3 x children's snack box (containing a Capri sun, raisins, popcorn) £3.10 each £9.30 total
1 x regular diet coke £2.90

GUTTED

£36.80 on a film I didn't even want to see!

But it was about the kids, even though 8 year old girl and 6 year old boy were not too fussed on the film choice and would have probably watched anything else instead.

When I saw "funded by the National Lottery" and "UK Film Council" during the opening credits, my already low expectations fell.

I accepted that parents sometimes just have to grin and bear and submitted...

...okay, so nobody under 30 in the film could act for toffee but I'm sure they were hired for their dancing skills, beauty and washboard stomachs.

The music, which was all extremely current, was not my taste (N-Dubz and Tinie Tempah) but it suited the style of dancing.

The 3D effects were brilliant and really suited the genre.

Shock, horror, I started to enjoy myself!

...That's when the teenagers struck.

10 year old and 8 year old girls have a recent dislike of teenagers and I was shocked that they chose to sit on the back row next to four snotty 15 year old (guessing) girls. Leaving me the seat closest to them, with just one spare space between us.

I ignored their shuffling about, talking and constant trips out of the aisle to the toilet/food counter/wherever and left them to settle down with the film.

Half way through, they seemed to get bored.

Popcorn started to be hurled forward, luckily not in my direction and I expected other cinema goers to turn around and shout. Other food products rained forward for the next twenty minutes, my blood pressure rising in sympathy for the folk in front.

The teens obviously suffering with lack of concentration seemed to be getting rowdier, giggling, talking, swearing and egging each other to throw empty Pringles tubes.

A sour cream and chive tube flew ahead and clunked on the floor. They laughed. I looked over to see them recording it on their phone.

I'm not normally confrontational, even with back up. I have a couple of gobby mates that will usually stand up for themselves or others, way before I would get to a point where, I felt the need to speak up.

I heard a cackle of laughter and more swearing and I got a flash in my head of "£36.80."

I certainly wasn't going to waste my time and money on accommodating these tools.

I snapped!

Usually I ponder, consider the options, script myself before I "kick off," fearing the unknown. It was an out of body experience as I turned and loudly stated "How about you all shut up !?!"

I could have said "shut the fuck up" but I can't really remember.

I panicked as they all turned to me. People in front also turning around to see what was going on.

I could have been about to receive a mouthful of abuse from a grotty kid or maybe an over priced bucket of Pepsi poured over me.

I needed to back up my first comment and assert myself further.

I leaned in closer and said...cringes..."I tell you what, if I was one of the people sitting down there that had been hit by food, I would have come back here and battered you."

When I'm angry or not concentrating, my accent goes scouse. I've spent years trying to erase it or at least ease it but sometimes I can't help it.

So in a scouse accent, technically, I threatened some children.

For the next 10 minutes or so, they whispered and giggled and I waited on edge for repercussions. But they refrained from any more food attacks and stopped being as loud.

On the way out, my girls asked what had been going on and my son proudly told them that I had told the teenagers off.

I will admit it, I enjoyed the film more than I should.