More Snow Ahead? Joyous

We are once again in the grip of hill phobia.  Well, The Child is anyway.  Grrr.  And after a few ice free days, more snow is predicted.  Yay.  The Child will be thrilled, until we have to leave the house of course.  But she does finish nursery this Friday, so hopefully there won’t be too many tantrums.  We’d finally got past the tantrums too and from nursery due to the cold as well. 

She had her Christmas concert on Monday.  I was a very proud mum when I saw she was dressed up as Mary.  She even had a baby Jesus at one point.  Bless.  I am wondering how we are going to survive the coming fortnight of holiday though, especially if the weather’s bad.  I hate being stuck indoors, but I don’t want a bright red ice cube for a daughter.  I need to bulk buy loads of food.  And maybe get myself some Baileys.  I deserve a little Christmas treat myself of course.  And I haven’t bought myself too many presents lately, given my rapidly dwindling funds.  The Child’s birthday was not cheap of course.  Then there’s the need to pay more on the gas.  And there’s Christmas of course. 

On the plus side, I may finally have cracked night time toilet training.  Then again I could be counting my eggs before they’re in the basket.  Still, I have a whole lot of respect for sticker reward chart things.  We have our own slightly more simple version.  Due to extreme laziness or lack of creativity (I’m undecided as to which) I hadn’t bothered drawing out a chart.  The Child just sticks her stickers wherever she likes on a bit of blank paper.  Well it was blank until it got covered in stickers of course.

The Canadian will be leaving soon.  And Psycho has gone to visit his son in America.  Unfortunately he’ll probably be back sometime next week.  Unless the weather is too bad of course.  Hmm.  Now there’s a thought.  I still find his bizarre beliefs about me highly entertaining.  I really wish I knew exactly what piece of clothing it is I own that he thinks is designer.  I might wear it more often.  Of course, given the massive overhaul my wardrobe has had over the past two years, I probably don’t own it anymore anyway.  Maybe it was that old manky fleece thing that I literally lived in for years?  Unfortunately, I don’t have any amusing updates on Psycho or the rest of The Ex’s family.  I’m still in shock over the fact that they actually made it to The Child’s birthday do this year.  Not that she had an actual party or anything.  We just had cake and stuff at The Ex’s flat, but bearing in mind they have never shown up before, I was amazed that they did this time.  Just goes to show that they were more than capable of it last year.  And the year before.  And the year before.  Oh well.  Of course she hasn’t had any card or present from Psycho.  He won’t recognise the fact she exists you see, unless it’s in his interests.  Like asking to borrow her car seat back at the beginning of summer or whenever it was.  What planet is that guy on, really?  I wonder how long it’s been since he was last in the paper?  He likes being in the paper.  Egotistical prick.

Not Again!

The Child had finally overcome her fear of our hill. She had finally started walking/running down it all be herself. Today she took one look at the ice rink, freaked, and refused to move even slightly without gripping my hand so tight the blood failed to reach my fingers. I managed to stay upright though, so it wasn't so bad. So did she as it happened. And once we got to the bottom of the hill, it wasn't so icy so not too bad. Except for the fact that The Child had her hill phobia back. Grrr. Shame we live in a place full of hills really. Never mind.

I was thrilled by the big pile of pictures she brought home for me though. And she told me they were all mine. Of course when the weekend comes, she'll want to give them all to my parents as usual. She's so charming.

Oh, and as it's been a little while since I gave a Psycho update, he's apparently going on some murder mystery thing dressed as a member of the Gestapo. So he won't be offending anyone there then. Unless it's a Nazi themed thing of course. Mind you, you never know when it comes to this place. Full of small minded people here, which is why I love it so much. Joyous. Oh, and the Canadian's being deported. She forgot to renew her visa you see. She'll be back though. I assume anyway. In the meantime, Psycho will have to manage in his little wool shop all his own! It shall be so difficult for him as the place is always heaving. Remember, it's doing so well that he had to take on another job, as a chef/kitchen assistant in some old people's home. Hmm. I wonder what spin I could put on stay at home mum/single mother. Maybe I could call myself a Primary Care Provider? Or does that tread on the toes of genuine child carer people? Oh well.

Now I just need to figure out how to persuade The Child to go to bed when she's tired. She's sleeping on that living room floor again. It can't be comfy or warm, but will she move? Nope. Kids. Grrr.

Sliding Down Hills, the Joy

Aside from multiple cancellations, probably because of the weather, the sailor party was fun.  Admittedly it’s been a while since I went out and had a few drinks.  It’s been even longer since I actually danced.  As long as I don’t think too hard about the dancing my levels of mortification are amazingly low.  Now I am guilty of dancing a lot when by myself or with my daughter, but as she thinks I’m wonderful no matter what I do, there’s no pressure there to impress.  But as I said, last night actually went rather well, from my point of view anyway. 

Of course I had less fun getting home in this ice.  Actually getting out was fun as well.  Town wasn’t too bad though.  It was less of an ice rink than my hill let’s put it that way.  The taxi dropped me off at the top of my hill.  Not too bad I thought, as I live more or less at the top.  However, I kind of slid all the way down to my house.  First I managed to skid into the grit box, where I managed to fish out my door keys.  I then managed to slide all the way to my gate, attempting to grasp at walls and plants as I passed in order to slow my descent.  I managed to grab my gate before I skated past my house, and then I was in.  Shame it wasn’t much warmer inside when I got in.  Grrr.  Freezing today too.  We’ve had the heating on for hours and I’m still wrapped in numerous layers, shivering away.  The Child has found the perfect solution.  She’s fast asleep on the living room floor.  I tried to wake her, but gave up.

But as a final note, I was quite impressed by the bravery of the smurfs we saw out in town last night.  I assume they were smurfs anyway.  Blue body paint, and less coverage than most of us.  I was a complete wimp though and took my coat.  My scarf and gloves were crammed into my bag too.  What can I say?  I’m in my late twenties.  I’m getting old.  And I don’t care how drunk he was, I greatly appreciated it when at last some guy decided to try and nick my sailor hat. 

Anyway, at least I made it home in one piece.  And my head wasn’t too sore this morning.  Good old vodka.

Snow and Sailors

The Child was very excited by the snow today, though admittedly it was just sleet.  She didn’t like the cold though poor thing, though despite this she refused a hat and scarf on the way to nursery.  She gave in on the way home though.  Lesson learned I hope.  And I also hope we don’t get any ice on the scale of last winter.  Sliding down our hill will not be fun.  And The Child has only just got over her fear of hills.  It started after the very icy day in February when she slipped over about five times on our street alone.  Not fun.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this coming Saturday either.  The Child has her first kids party to attend, so with a bit of luck I’ll have a couple of hours all to myself.  Of course, I should be using that time to get myself sorted for the party I shall be attending Saturday night.  A friend is having a sailor themed fancy dress night out for her birthday.  I haven’t done fancy dress since I was twenty-two.  Coincidentally that is the age she shall be.  I guess I just feel like an old fart these days.  Single motherhood will make you feel like that at times.  As will the realisation that you’re now in your late twenties.  There I admit it.  I shall leave the mid-twenties behind me.  The grumpiness thing was always there though.  I was a grumpy kid.  I remember idolising grumpy bear from the Care Bears, and Garfield.  I was obsessed with Garfield.  But on Saturday I will don that sailor girl outfit and try to feel young and carefree.  Who knows, maybe it won’t be so bad.  And there will be plenty of others dressed as silly as me.  I might even have fun if I can learn not to be so uptight.  Fingers crossed.

But It’s Cold Now, Right?

I could be mistaken of course, but I could have sworn that summer was long behind us.  Feels like it anyway.  But it’s been pretty cold lately I’m sure.  Or maybe I’m just some freak.  Though given that I live in Britain I can be pretty certain that it’s hardly what most people would consider warm out there.  Anyhow, I bring up the subject of the cold weather because yesterday in town I saw some woman in a little denim mini skirt.  She wore no tights or leggings or anything like that.  She was totally rocking the frost bitten legs look.  Seriously.  You could see every last goose bump.  They were bright red.  Now, I’m not condemning mini skirts in winter, but wear them with something please.  Mottled legs are not a particularly good look.  And her legs didn’t even have any remnant of tan, fake or otherwise.  The bits that weren’t red were white.  And I know all about pasty legs, as mine could possibly be the pastiest pair in Britain.  That’s why I hate baring them, though I did manage to tan a little this summer.  My legs are too pasty to do the fake tan thing.  No matter how even I think I’ve spread it, I always end up with streaks.  Grrr.

Anyway, the message I want to convey is that it’s cold out there now.  Cover up.  It’s allowed.  And stuff anyone who says otherwise.  I fully intend to live in giant chunky knit jumpers for the next few months. 

It’s Been A While

Quite a lot has happened recently, on the Psycho front at least.  He’s been busy being strange.  I am of course assuming I’m normalish here.  Though I’m sure most normal people would realise that if they aren’t making enough money from their shop to employ extra staff, they probably aren’t going to be able to afford to expand the business.  Not Psycho.  They wanted The Ex to help out if they could “afford to pay” him.  This is so Psycho and The Canadian could be in their new branch.  Further evidence that expansion might not be the realistic idea right now is the fact that Psycho and The Canadian are still behind with their rent.  They’re being threatened with eviction now according to The Ex.

Psycho’s also getting increasingly paranoid it seems.  No one is to talk about any of his crusades (the parking fine thing, council tax, bailiffs etc.) in his flat or his shop because he’s convinced MI5 have bugged him.  Some idiot refusing to par parking fines is of course so in the same league as terrorism.  Hmm.  Psycho really would make an excellent case study.  He also has this bizarre belief that when you register something, you transfer ownership of that something to the person/organisation you’re registering it with.  That applies to children in his world as well.  Though I didn’t think children were mere possessions to own.  The Toddler is certainly her own person.  As far as I’m aware slavery was abolished long ago.  And wives are no longer seen as the property of their husbands either are they?  Ownership of people?  Hmm.

Psycho has been banned from driving for six months.  This is nothing to do with road tax, or parking fines either.  He was guilty of driving without insurance.  Idiot.  Neither of his two cars were insured.

The best thing though was the discovery that Psycho had been kicked out of the Conservative Club.  I remember him being so proud when he got in there.  He was bragging to me about it back when I was a student and still with The Ex.  Bearing in mind I’m left wing in my political views, I was confused as to why he would think I would be impressed by this.  I was of course unaware of many of his bizarre views at that time.  I certainly had no idea he had me down as a designer junkie.  It was his war with the local council that saw him ousted there though.  Ha ha.

Psycho has also recently demonstrated his volatile temper.  He wanted to change the locks to his flat, and called The Ex asking for help with this.  He’d had a row with The Canadian you see, and wanted to lock her out of their flat.  Her crime?  She wanted a day off.  Their shop is open every day of the week.  They’re both in there everyday, except when Psycho has to go off to work in his old people’s home kitchen.  Personally, I see no problem with her wanting a day off.  Psycho on the other hand, well, in his opinion it was worth throwing her out over. 

Now I have also been told by The Ex about a new fad.  Whether it is or not I’m not sure because I know nothing about this, and in my opinion it sounds very strange.  Some girl he works with has apparently had her eyebrows shaved off, and then tattooed back on.  And another girl he works with was apparently considering it.  I think it looks strange when people draw their eyebrows back on with pencil.  I know it is easy to accidentally over-pluck, but drawn on eyebrows look totally naff.  I suspect tattooed on eyebrows look no better?  And they’ll be permanent too.  Strange.

The Joys Of Autumn

The Toddler is back at nursery!  As much as I love her, I really need the frequent breaks.  She’s very hard work, being nearly four.  The return to sanity is great.  And of course her return to nursery also means I’ll receive loads more paintings, drawings, collage things every Friday.  We need more cupboard space.  She’s such a little artist though.  Bless her.

Of course, the fact that nursery/school is back on means that the horrific experience that is the summer holidays in a small seaside town is over.  Ish.  We’re still inundated with middle-aged couples and old ladies.  I’ve nothing against these age groups.  It’s the touristy aspect that irritates.  It’s the stopping in shop doorways blocking entrance or exit.  I was in M&S last week, and when I tried to get upstairs, I found myself trapped.  The stairs themselves were blocked by old people struggling to get down.  There is however an escalator right next to the stairs, so I hopped on that.  And that is how I ended up stuck.  There was a large group of people just at the top of the stairs, doing nothing but blocking the way.  There isn’t a escalator to go down, so I was literally trapped.  After repeatedly saying “Excuse me” I gave up, and tried to squeeze past.  They all remained oblivious to my presence however.  Most bizarre.  And I faced exactly the same problem when trying to get down.  I would have resorted to using the dodgy lift, but I get claustrophobic in the things.  Grrrr.  They walk really slowly around town and block up the pavements too.  Grrrr.  And one particularly bizarre couple were most insistent that we had more than one shopping centre here.  Maybe they had us confused with a larger town or a city or something?  Given that most of our shops in town are down the one main street, and in the shopping centre, which is coincidentally on the main street, I was slightly taken aback by their aggressive insistence that we had a second, much larger shopping centre somewhere.  Hmm, I could be wrong of course.  But I do suspect that I would have noticed it.

One thing I’m less enthusiastic about though is the spiders.  Autumn is of course the time for giant mutant killer spiders.  I’ve had the misfortune of seeing loads on our upstairs landing and the stairs already.  Horrific.  None in my bedroom yet though.  That’s where they favoured last year.  Naturally it made going to bed something of a harrowing experience, given I’m possibly the worlds biggest arachnophobe.  And I really am genuinely one hundred percent aware that they can’t/won’t hurt me.  It doesn’t change the fact that I find them absolutely terrifying however.  Hmm.  Hate the autumn on that count alone.  None of the good stuff makes up for the giant mutant killer spiders.

Will It Never End?

The Toddler had chicken pox a couple of weeks ago.  Fortunately she didn’t get it too bad.  Still, she is something of a drama queen, and so we had a most painful week.  And now she is ill again!  Just a cold I think (I hope!), but once again I have to suffer as she does.  And now that nursery has broken up for the summer holidays, all I can see is six weeks of pain ahead of me.  But maybe I’m just being cynical.  Hmm.  Thank god we live so close to the playground.  And the seaside.  And her grandparents.  I suspect we could be camping out in their garden a lot this summer.  Weather permitting of course.  And this is Britain, so I may also have to plan lots of indoor activities.  Joy. 

But on the plus side, I get to escape for the day tomorrow.  Thank you Mum and Dad.

How To Be A Responsible Adult

Psycho's poor son has come to visit from America.  Yes, Psycho actually has a child.  The result of a one night stand while on holiday in America I believe.  I could be wrong.  I know there was no relationship though.  Psycho would have everyone believe that his son’s mum is a nutter.  Not that he is of course.

Anyway, Psycho has been busy demonstrating what a responsible person he is.  He went off to America to pick up this poor kid without informing anyone but the girlfriend he lives with and the friend who’s car he borrowed.  Of course, the trip to America involved a drive down to London, as he was flying from there.  He informed The Family that he was visiting his dad, who lives in London.

The first they know of it is when he rings up The Ex, asking to borrow money for the train fare back up here.  Now, The Ex is allegedly more broke than he is, as his wool shop is supposed to be doing really well.  The Ex actually thought to ask why Psycho needed this money (He doesn’t normally bother with the details) and found out that the car he had borrowed to get to London had been impounded while he was picking up his son, and he didn’t have enough money in his account to cover the train fare back!  So, he had managed to get both himself and his son stranded in London.  Unsurprisingly, The Ex couldn’t actually afford to help out.  But to top it all off, Psycho actually tried to put the blame on their senile father.  It is common knowledge that he’s losing his marbles.  And he doesn’t drive.  How was he supposed to know which parking tickets to purchase.  And shouldn’t Psycho have checked them anyway?  Hmm.  They made it back up here in the end though, but he had to go back down to London a few days later to get the car released.  His friend was apparently livid when he found out what had happened, and hasn’t let Psycho borrow his car since.

And the story doesn’t end there, as now Psycho actually has to demonstrate his parenting skills at home.  This involves foisting his son on anyone who can babysit while he and his girlfriend work in their shop all day every day.  They don’t have any days off you know.  Anyway, one day, The Ex was bringing the son back from Matriarch’s.  He had informed Psycho what bus they were going back on, and had told him to expect them at about 7.50pm.  They managed to get back on time, and tried the doorbell.  When no one answered, they tried ringing the home phone.  When no one answered that, they tried ringing the mobile.  There was no answer there either.  The Ex and Psycho’s poor kid had been standing on the doorstep for ten minutes before they were finally let in.  Both Psycho and his girlfriend had been home.  They had apparently not heard the doorbell.  Their home phone had been unplugged for some undisclosed reason, and they has apparently left the mobile in the shop.  Oh, and they had been finishing their tea too.  Not that they had been expecting them back or anything.  I would never leave The Toddler stranded on our doorstep with anyone, let alone someone as useless as The Ex.

The reason for the phone thing could have been related to them being a bit behind with their rent of course.  Their landlord has started harassing The Ex, wanting to know how he can get hold of them and pester them for his rent.  It seems that they’ve been avoiding his calls for over a month now.  Hmm.  And they claim the shop is doing really well.  And they give The Ex grief for struggling with his own rent.  But hey, should we expect anything more from Psycho really?  I think not.

On a lighter note, according to our local paper, our town was hit by a Fly Invasion!  Oh no!

Subtle Avoidance

The art of subtle avoidance has lately been demonstrated to me by one Postie.  If you wish to avoid someone making absolutely sure that they’ll have no idea what you’re doing, do as follows:

1. Wear something eye-catching, like the Royal Mail orange waistcoaty jacket thing, and push around a big red Royal Mail trolley thing.
2. Stop spending so much time talking to someone you always used to spend ages talking to, and less encouragement of The Toddler is essential.
3. Start to completely ignore that same someone on occasions when she is alone.  Though not at all times.  We wouldn’t want it to be too obvious.
4. When seeing that someone ahead of you on the street, give a startled expression before bolting across the road at high speed.  A glance back at that someone, just to alert them to the fact that you definitely noticed them is essential.
5. Start cutting out a regular part of your postal route when that someone is going the way you intended to go.  Ensure this happens after she has caught you watching her over a tall wall at this exact spot.  Of course she won’t notice this sudden change at all.

I look forward to further lessons of subtle avoidance.  Of course, I could be wrong.  Maybe I’m being egotistical, or paranoid, or something like that, but I don’t think so.  Hmm.

Freedom!

Parenthood is not easy.  It certainly isn’t when you’re a single parent.  Therefore, I really appreciate my days off.  I don’t get many obviously, though I do have my afternoons now that The Toddler’s at nursery.  Anyway, I was fortunate enough to have the day off today as my lovely parents were willing to take The Toddler off my hands.  I made good use of the time, going back to Leeds, where I used to live.  I saw my best friend, spent money on things I can’t get here in my little seaside town, and made the potential mistake of buying a tambourine for The Toddler.  I saw it and knew she would love it.  I am certain she shall drive me absolutely insane with it in time though.  Bless her.  She was thrilled when I presented her with it though, which makes the sacrifice of some peace and quiet more bearable.  Yes, parenthood is difficult, but also very rewarding. 

But my moment of madness aside, when my train home stopped in York, I was amazed to see some guy drop his burger on the steps down to the platform, scoop it all back up, put it back together, and then eat it.  Hmm, floor burger.  Yum.

The Toddler had a good day.  Apparently she was on her best behaviour, so my parents have promised to take her off my hands again.  Yay.  Though I now have a bucket of seaweed to do something with.  Hmm.  The Toddler will be miffed if I throw it all out, but it is just a little bit smelly.  Hmm.  Decisions decisions.

Flattery

The Toddler is great at flattery.  The other day she said to me, “Did you hurt your big fat tummy?”  She may have taken tips from Big Gran (her great grandma), who is guilty of saying to my older sister, “You’ve put on weight!”  My sister responded with a simple, “Thanks.”  Now I could be wrong, but you aren’t actually supposed to say such things to people are you?  I thought that if anything, you were supposed to say things such as “Have you lost weight?” even if the opposite is clearly the case.  Hmm.  i must be going wrong somewhere.  But I do suspect I would be less popular if I followed in my grandma’s footsteps. 

I will also add that there have been further crossbow attacks on the seagulls.  Someone also attempted to strangle a donkey.  I don’t think it’s a particularly safe place for animals here at the moment.  Hmm.  Frog massacres, crossbowed seagulls, strangled donkeys…

Psycho’s been having fun lately too.  His bank have basically kicked him out because of the complete breakdown of relations or communication or something.  Basically he’s a crap customer.  And I thought The Ex was hopeless with money.  As far as I’m aware he’s never been kicked out of a bank before.  Oh, and the best bit is that it might be due to the trust fund account being ridiculously overdrawn.  Yes, Psycho may have fleeced his own brothers.  Charming man.  And even more charmingly, he had the nerve to ask The Ex if he could borrow The Toddler’s car seat for when he brings his son over from America!  He finally acknowledges The Toddler’s existence, but only because he wants her car seat.  Of course, The Ex has no access to her car seat, so it was a big fat no.  I like to think that it would have been anyway, but given what a pushover The Ex is where his family are concerned, I have to wonder.

I have to confess that I may be guilty of accidentally killing a fly.  Though it may really have been suicide.  I didn’t make the fly land in the pan of boiling water after all.  It was interesting to say the least.  I’ve never seen a fly land in boiling before, and I hope I don’t see it again.  There was rice in the pan at the time as well.  Yummy.

Since When Is A Cliff A Hill?

I just love tourists.  They’re wonderful.  They have so few cares in the world.  I guess this is why I’m rubbish on holiday, as I’m permanently stressed.  And I am well aware that I've not actually had a proper holiday since I was fourteen (OMG!), but I was a very stressy fourteen year old.  Yes, stress has been a constant companion for many years now.  But anyway, I do not wish to discuss my overly stressy nature.  I may be totally neurotic, but who isn’t?  Really?  Anyway, I came across some wonderful tourist person the other day when The Toddler and I were with The Ex.  He lives near the south cliff area of our town, and we had just arrived at the top of this cliff when I overheard this chap on his phone.  He was clearly trying to direct someone to his whereabouts, and what he said was, “We’re at the seafront, on top of the hilly bit.”  That is one way to describe a cliff I suppose.  But bearing in mind that I live on a hill, I would say they are different enough that such directions might confuse me.  Now, our town is full of hills.  If someone said for me to meet them at the top of the hilly bit near the seafront, I would have to ask, north or south bay?  And then, which hilly bit in particular?  A bit with a very steep drop?  Or a bit that is definitely just a hill?  Hmm.  I just love it here at this time of year.

I nearly forgot another wonderful headline from the other day.  Police hunt plant poisoner!  It may possibly have been sabotage relating to some flower festivally type thing.  I’m not really sure I have to confess.  I don’t actually read the paper if I can help it, but the headlines make me laugh.  Or smile at least.  When they’re funny anyway.

Dog Walking, And Seasonal Delights

Psycho has another money making scheme on the go.  He’s setting up a dog walking company.  He’s had The Ex out leafleting for him this week, but only in areas an easy walking distance from their flat of course.  Remember, this is the guy who apparently needed a car to work five minutes from his flat.  I jest of course.  he didn’t actually drive the car to work.  After all, he probably wouldn’t have been able to park much nearer to the shop.  Hmm.  Wonder if there’s much money to be made in the dog walking business here.  But seriously, how lazy?  I consider my parents’ house within walking distance.  Ok, it might take about thirty/forty minutes to get up there, but that’s walking distance.  He’s talking about no more than five/ten minutes away.  And he’s apparently a health freak as well.  Guess he’s just not into walking.  Hmm.  I love walking myself.  It’s easy exercise.  But I do consider myself lazy.  I’m certainly not into gyms.

They’re doing road works on the main road into town, given that it’s getting towards the busiest time of year.  They always do work on these roads at the worst possible times, just so they can cause the most amount of chaos.  Joyous.  But these ones have been going on forever!  Seriously.  They dug the road up a while ago, and then dug it up again.  This is possibly the third time.  If not the fourth!  I’m sick of it, and I don’t even drive.  Mind you, as a pedestrian I have to put up with dodging nutty drivers who have no regard for the lives of pedestrians.  Hmm.  The Toddler gets a little confused when cars are still going, despite the appearance of the green man.  Yes, she has learned that concept, and is prepared tell those cars that they’re being naughty.  It’s not too embarrassing actually.  But fortunately it is not too common an occurrence. 

Now, I was mortified beyond belief yesterday when The Toddler decided to say to Postie, “Do you like Mum?”  He managed to get out of answering her though, as he had his headphones in and apparently couldn’t hear her.  Hmm.  Though apparently today she was louder than the Foo Fighters. 

Town’s overcrowded with idiots as well.  And children.  I hate children.  With the exception of my own of course.  Then again…  But seriously, I know how hard it can be to keep kids under control and stuff.  My own is an absolute terror, so I can sympathise.  To an extent.  But she is only three and a half.  I guess I wouldn’t be so bothered if I was a kid friendly person.  My problem is simply that I don’t like kids.  Grrr.  But some of them really should know better.  Their parents certainly should.  Grrr!

First The Frogs, Now The Seagulls

I never found out if the matter of the frog killers was solved.  Poor frogs.  But now we have another killer on the loose.  Someone is going round shooting seagulls with a crossbow!  Now, I think that that is kind of a random weapon, but what do I know?  Nothing about killing seagulls that’s for sure.  But it’s not exactly a small and easy to handle weapon surely?  In my (admittedly very limited) experience, crossbows are kind of big.  So, we have a hunt for someone armed with a crossbow up here.  And this person is targeting seagulls.  Now I know that seagulls are a pain, but surely there is a better way to handle the problem?  But once again, what do I know?  I do know that I do not want to come across some crazy person armed with a crossbow.  Fortunately single mums do not seem to have been targeted yet.  And fortunately I cannot really be mistaken for a seagull.  But you never know.  Stranger things could have happened.

I managed to get a break from The Toddler today.  I really missed her actually.  It’s such a bizarre feeling, but I never realise quite how much I’ve missed her until I see her.  Then again, I have never spent more than a day away from her.  I might get twitchy if we were separated for any longer than that.  But it could be a while before I get to try out that theory.  She had fun though, and apparently behaved herself.  And she’s now sleeping soundly upstairs.  Bless her.  I do love her most of all when she’s fast asleep.  She’s so peaceful and cute.  Aww.  But I’m sure she’ll be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow, ready to resume Postie tormenting duties.  Assuming she hasn’t scared him off yet of course.

Oh, I almost forgot to add that Psycho definitely isn’t getting his cars back.  They shall be returning the things that he had left inside the cars to him though.  What nice bailiffs they are.  I must confess that I was thrilled by this news though.  If that makes me a bitch, then so be it.  i can live that.  At least I am not a psycho.  I assume I’m not anyway.  I don’t think I am, but I suspect Psycho would claim otherwise.  But he is slightly insane.  Hmm.  He’d make a great case study.  It’s a shame Freud isn’t around anymore.

Stirring?

Well, I had an eventful Saturday.  Well, maybe not eventful as such, but it was somewhat informative.  Psycho called The Ex while The Toddler and myself were round there (he still only gets supervised access, and for a very good reason in my opinion, given his potentially violent temper etc etc).  He usually does, and The Ex says it is probably to wind him up, as Psycho apparently knows that he sees The Toddler every Saturday.  But also, for whatever reason, Psycho also apparently thinks I’m “still” being a bitch about access.  Now as I never have been a bitch about access, I was a little thrown by the use of the word “still” there.  The Ex has always seen The Toddler on a weekly basis.  And until she started nursery, we were very flexible with our availability.  Now I’m not sure if The Ex has been telling his brother lies (which wouldn’t surprise me) or whether Psycho is just believing what the hell he likes.  Now the latter is also a distinct possibility, as Psycho claims that he witnessed my mum driving like a lunatic while aiding me and The Toddler in our escape from The Ex’s.  In reality, it was my dad who came and picked us up.  And given that it was late, and we lived in an area populated by speed bumps, driving like a lunatic was not really an option.  There was also a baby in the car.  Another reason for driving carefully.  Oh, and Psycho was actually in America on the day that I left The Ex.  Hmm.  So The Ex isn’t the only one who tells lies frequently.  At least I can find the whole thing amusing now, rather than letting it all get me down.  I do wish they could all just tell the truth though, rather than trying to stir things.  And what does Psycho actually gain from trying to vilify me?  Why does he care so much?  I’m amazed he has time to, if there’s as much going on in his life as he likes to try and claim.  Poor guy.

The Toddler’s friendship with Postie continues.  She gave him stickers this week.  Postman Pat stickers as it happens.  He was impressed by her ability to make the association.  They now also high-five each other all the time.  He’s been trying to teach her that one for a while, but she finally gave in this week.  I would feel guilty, but as he’s the one encouraging her, I don’t.

The Ex’s family finally gave him some presents.  Well his mum and one of his brother’s did anyway.  He still doesn’t even have a card from his sister.  Hmm.  Charming.

It’s The Lack Of Thought That Counts

I feel sorry for The Ex.  I really do.  Though I did start to get sick of his moaning after a while.  I’m good at doing sympathy up to a point, but don’t push it, or I will start to get irritated, and then I may just snap.  But anyway, it was his twenty-ninth birthday the other day, and the only present he got was the DVD I bought him on behalf of The Toddler.  Hmm.  Nice.  His mum apparently didn’t know what to get him, so just didn’t bother.  His sister confessed that she just didn’t bother.  And his three brothers have apparently yet to comment.  I’d forgotten how thoughtful they all are.

Now, he could have lied to me, but given that he gave me a list of present options, and has been pestering me about what I might get him since Christmas, I am inclined to believe him when he says he did the same to everyone in his family.  Especially as he spends more time with them than with anyone else.  My parents didn’t get me much for my last birthday, but I was thrilled with what they did get me.  And not only did they get me some presents, but they also made a fuss, inviting The Toddler and myself round for a nice meal and cake.  Nothing like that for The Ex of course.  Hmm.  Poor guy.  Though given what each and every other member of The Family act like when it’s their birthdays, I think they’re just a tiny bit hypocritical.  It’d be like me making a huge fuss about my birthday, having a right go if people didn’t get me exactly what I wanted, et cetera et cetera, and then making no effort whatsoever for anyone else.  But it’s what they do.  They’re all so self-obsessed and selfish.  It’s scary.  And The Toddler is best out of it as far as I’m concerned.  Oh, and despite inviting The Family round for The Toddler’s visit to his flat yesterday, once again, not one of them could be bothered to turn up.  Nice to know she means so much to them.  Hmm.  But at least she won’t ever get attached to them.  That’d be horrible.  Especially as then they might have some influence over her character.  As it happens, the only influence they should have on her is genetic.  I just hope that the selfishness and the self-obsession was learned behaviour rather than innate.  Hmm.  Potentially worrying, but I’d imagine unlikely.

Anyhow, it’s at times like this that I really begin to appreciate what I have once more.  I realise how lucky I am to have relatives that actually care.  Though I suppose that it’s not an uncommon occurrence.  I hope it isn’t.  That would be depressing.  I have yet to become acquainted with anyone else who has a family like The Family though, so I am hopeful that they are an aberration.  Though you never know.  Maybe my family and I are the mad ones.  I do doubt that though.

Not Long Now

The Toddler is back at nursery on Monday.  I can’t wait.  Neither can she.  I am a cruel and heartless mother.  Actually, I don’t think I am.  I just need some ‘me time’ again, and you don’t get much ‘me time’ when you’re stuck at home on your own with a toddler for a fortnight.  Especially when the toddler in question has started staying up late due to the increase in daylight hours.  Of course, we haven’t been stuck at home.  And she does like playing outside.  Though I do suspect her motives.  Especially when she is adamant that she wants to play in the significantly smaller yard thing at the front of the house.  Admittedly, as our house is south facing, the front gets all the sun.  But still.  She has poor Postie’s routine sussed.  Like I say though, it’s his own fault, and he doesn’t seem too troubled.  Then again, he doesn’t see how excited she gets.  Hmm.  Though she did nearly chase him down the main street the other day.  That was interesting.  And very embarrassing.  I got  my revenge though, by taking her for her pre-school booster.  Hah.  Though she’s like her mother when it comes to her jabs, not particularly bothered at all.  I certainly don’t remember ever having a problem with needles, so I assume she takes after me there.  The Ex hates needles.  But anyway, I was very proud of her.  She didn’t make a sound, and was thrilled with the sticker she got to choose afterwards.  She also got a little treat on the way home, but she deserved it.

Anyway, I am hoping that town quietens down a bit next week, once the holiday is over.  Of course, now we’re in the run up to summer, I expect things to be a little more crowded than the winter norm, but hey, as long as it’s quieter than it has been, I might just survive.  And my poor daughter has suffered this past fortnight too.  She has really missed nursery, and is desperate to get back.  Much more fun there I’m guessing.  Bless her.

But once schools start back, the countdown to summer can begin, because it’s really not long now.  Grrr.  And then the madness can truly begin.  Maybe we’ll spend the weekend down at the pier, pushing people off.  In my head at least anyway.

Sun!

The Toddler and I have been enjoying the sun today.  We were up early, and she was out playing in the front garden by ten, when Postie came by.  I’m not sure if I should be concerned by how attached The Toddler seems to be to him now.  Hmm.  Though he seems to enjoy the attention she lavishes on him, even accepting her gift of a dead flower.  She pulls them off the bush at the front and hands them out to anyone who will take one.  Bless her.

Actually someone stopped us today to comment on how gorgeous she is, and even told me she should be a model or something.  I do love it when people stop us to tell me such things.  But she is gorgeous, and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother.

She’s fun at the park though, because she never wants to leave.  She goes on the big climbing frame and gets scared, and then won’t come down.  When you finally rescue her, she then insists on having another go.  And the same thing happens again.  But if you try to leave the playground, she has a fit.  But she also has a fit if you try to bypass the playground.  But as she’s only three years old, I wouldn’t expect her to appreciate just a walk around the park.  After all, she wants fun and stimulation.  Though she does love the flowers.  She stops at all the gardens down our street admiring the flowers when we’re on our way to the shops.  Shame I’m not so bothered about them myself really.  Now don’t get me wrong, I do think they’re pretty et cetera et cetera, but I’m just not that bothered.  The Toddler is such a girly girl though.

The downside of all this sun though, is the fact that as it’s school holidays, the idiots are out in droves.  Town is a nightmare at the moment.  I managed to avoid it today though.  In fact we were done with our shopping by half eleven.  It was most bizarre.  We’re never normally so organized, but it meant we had most of the day to spend enjoying the weather.  And avoiding the tourists of course.  We shall definitely be camping out on that pier to push people off over the summer I think.  And The Toddler will love doing that.  I am joking of course.  But The Toddler really would enjoy pushing people off the pier. 

And just because I couldn’t resist mentioning it, Psycho thought he might have dislocated his shoulder the other night in bed.  The reason for this?  Because his arm was a bit sore when he woke up.  Hmm.  He’s such a baby.  Oh, and he probably won’t be getting his cars back from the bailiffs.  He’s talking about buying a new car instead.  Though in an attempt to save face, he’s claiming that he wants a smaller car, and that’s his reason for planning to buy another.  I don’t know.  It does make me smile though.  But I’m just mean like that.

And The Season Begins Once More

Town has been a nightmare the past few days.  Tourist season is officially upon us once more.  Joy.  I just love it when they stop in shop doorways, blocking the entrance.  I just love it when they stop in the middle of the street, right in front of you.  I just love it when they show complete surprise over the fact that we actually have shops here.  And I wonder why they get so excited by all of the cheap tacky shops we have here, when there are much better shops around, both here and back in their cities.  The moaning about the bad weather amuses me, especially as this is Britain.  If you want decent weather, go abroad!  And I am sure the year shall only improve.  How I look forward to that.  Hmm.

We are only six days into the holiday, and already I am desperate for nursery to start once more.  Today I am imprisoned, stuck in the house, as I have found it impossible to convince The Toddler to go shopping with me.  Admittedly, it is wet and rainy out there, and she is STILL suffering from the toddler flu.  Today is proving to be a fun day.  It is a shame though, as the bad weather means that town probably wouldn’t have been too bad today.  But there we go.  I guess I wasn’t quite so motivated to go shopping myself, otherwise I probably would have found a way to talk her into going out.  But it does mean that tomorrow’s shopping trip shall be interesting, given the vast amount of stuff we shall need to get.  Hmm.  Not so bad if I were on my own, but when I have a toddler to try and keep under control at the same time, all by myself, well, it could prove just a tiny bit difficult.  I hate holidays.  As much as I love my daughter, I really can’t wait for her to go back to nursery.  Having no time to get anything done is making my life a little bit difficult right now.  It’s not good.

And The Ex is doing my head in again.  He won’t shut up about this poor girl he’s interested in.  I really don’t know what to say to him.  I am rubbish at advice anyway, but relationships really aren’t my strong point.  And I know what he wants me to say, but I can’t tell him that because I don’t actually think she is all that interested in him.  Not in that way anyway.  Oh dear.  And I am very aware that I only have myself to blame for this situation.  At least he’s over me at long last.  That’s something.

Frog Massacre! No!

And it came so soon after The Toddler and Postie did some further bonding over the frog in our front yard thing.  Though of course, if Postie was right and it was indeed a killer frog who was responsible for ripping our hedge to bits, well.  Poor frogs though.  But I guess it must be a slow news day when the headline is Frog Massacre Shock.  Love this place.  Feel sorry for the frogs though.

And now that it’s nearly his birthday, Psycho has decided to remember that The Toddler is his niece.  He’s only after a present from her of course.  So transparent.  And shocking, given that he’ll be thirty-one.  But they are very grasping people are The Family, after whatever they can get.  And Psycho remains determined to beat the bailiffs, trying to claim he needs his cars for his business.  Fortunately for him, he does technically have a business other than the shop, which is literally a few minutes walk from his flat.  Technically he also has a computer business.  Though why one man would need two cars to run this business is beyond me.  Especially when it’s been more or less defunct since he and his girlfriend got their precious wool shop.  I have asked The Ex to keep me posted.

And speaking of The Ex, he may finally have moved on!  At long last.  He mentioned some girl he’s sort of maybe interested in.  Though the alarm bells are the fact that she’s a single mother with two kids.  The kids are in counselling because her ex was a violent bastard who regularly beat her to a pulp.  The Ex is ideal for her then.  Eek.  But from what he’s said, she might not be so keen herself.  Sensible woman.  Though as far as stepmum material goes, she may be more suitable than the last one, the sixteen year old girl he’d slept with a couple of times.  Behind her boyfriend’s back I might add.  Hmm.  But we shall see.  At least it means he can stop claiming to still be in love with me.

I on the other hand have developed something of a crush on Postie.  Our almost daily chats do help keep me somewhat sane.  And he’s so friendly, both to me and The Toddler.  Actually, I’m beginning to worry about The Toddler.  She has taken to playing out in the front yard with the nicer weather.  But today, she took one of her many drawings out with her.  She told me it was for Postie.  But fortunately he wasn’t on today, so she was unable to attempt to foist the picture on him.  I’m beginning to think that this situation could get potentially awkward.  Though in our defence, he encourages her himself, so he really only has himself to blame.  Hmm.

Toddler Flu

The Toddler has been suffering from the Toddler Flu for months now it seems.  I am at the end of my tether.  And I used to think that Man Flu was bad.  Well, The Ex used to sit around feeling sorry for himself, declaring that he was dying while expecting me to play nursemaid.  Well, The Toddler throws tantrums over anything and everything, wipes snot everywhere, uses up all the tissues so there are none left for me, tantrums some more, refuses to get dressed, refuses to eat, refuses to go out, throws a tantrum some more, livens up a bit after forgetting that she’s ill, and then the world falls apart once more.  I am exhausted.  Nothing pleases her.  Nothing is good enough.  And boy does she want me to know that something is not quite right.  Of course, I would get the message without the tantrums.  The snotty nose is clue enough.  But I suppose she has yet to learn a more effective way of making her feelings known.  But she is three years old, and I do wonder if she should be telling me what’s wrong by now.  Of course, her response to this is, “I can’t.”  Not exactly helpful.  Grrr.

This is where I really could use a nice network of mummy friends.  But I tend not to have much in common with other mothers, given that I’m so rubbish with kids.  My own included I often think, though with her I do not have The Fear.  I am also rubbish at making new friends, what with having no social skills whatsoever.  It’s possibly something of a miracle that I’ve retained any friends at all, especially after everything with The Ex, and how pathetic I was back then.  Hmm.  Maybe I’m just being hard on myself again.  But in any case, it would be useful to know what other parents are going through.  Though people do tend to make out that everything is wonderful.  Who wants to admit that they think they are doing a rubbish job after all?  I don’t exactly tell the other mums at nursery how I’m feeling.  I don’t even feel able to confide in my own parents really.  But it’s not all bad.  In fact, when she’s not suffering from yet another cold, The Toddler can be so unbelievably charming, that I feel like the luckiest person ever.  And I know that I am lucky that she sleeps through the night without disturbing me.  She never leaves her room after I’ve put her to bed either.  Not yet anyway.  There is plenty of time for that to change of course.

Pushchairs

The Toddler has been out of her pushchair for a while now.  Mostly because it broke, I admit.  Though she was getting a bit big for it, and that is probably why it broke.  Hmm.  But anyway, being out and about this afternoon, seeing all the pushchairs around (a surprising number were neon pink), reminded me of our pushchair days, and the bizarre looks I would get from many passers by as I happily chatted away to The Toddler.  Hmm.  I assume they were aware that I was not talking to myself, but the big curly haired monster in the pushchair.  But then again, in this place, possibly not.

It also reminded me of the fact that The Toddler’s four year old cousin, who started primary school last September, still has his pushchair.  He was in it last weekend.  Now I do hate to judge, and am aware that his birthday wasn’t until August, but still.  He’s at actual school.  And they don’t live miles from town.  They live at least as near as us, if not nearer.  Hmm.  But it is somewhere handy for them to dump the shopping I suppose.

I also remember someone once moaning under her breath while I battled with the stroller through some shop, saying something along the lines of “People shouldn’t be allowed to bring pushchairs into shops!”  Now I admit, pushchairs in crowded cramped shops piss me off too.  They pissed me off when I had the sodding thing.  Shopping is a heck of a lot easier without it believe me.  But what did she want me to do?  Abandon the toddler outside?  Neglect surely.  Or take The Toddler out of said stroller, and leave that alone outside?  Hmm.  Potential risk of theft there.  Or maybe I’m too used to city life.  Maybe such things don’t happen here.  In the centre of town.  Hmm.  But anyway, I just glowered at her and got on with it.  Of all the pushchair/pram varieties out there, we were going with the least voluminous.  At least I wasn’t pushing a four year old around in a giant pram!  The cousin has downgraded to a stroller now that he’s at school though.  And yes, the cousin in question is a member of The Family.

Clothes Sizing? I Need Help!

Ok, I should be thrilled that my size ten leggings are falling down.  It means they’re now too big for me, and the size eights I bought to replace them seem to fit me well.  All good yes?  Grrr!  Not in my world.  I am not a size eight.  I haven’t been a size eight since I was fourteen/fifteen!  I have not shrunk down to the size I was back then.  I have looked in the mirror, and unless I’ve developed some disorder similar to anorexia, whereby I see my body in a distorted manor, I am not mistaken.  I do not think I am fat.  I’m not.  In fact I rarely feel that I am.  Sure I have fat bloaty days, but who doesn’t right?  But fat is something I am not.  Evidently.  I appear to more of a stick than I am.  That said, if I shop at New Look, I appear to be a size twelve, bordering on fourteen.  For tops anyway.  But as I appear to be an eight at M&S and Sainsbury’s too I might add, I might just buy more stuff from there.  I’m sticking with a size ten at next though.  Belts will hold my jeans up.  But if I’m really a size eight, I need to do some serious pigging out.  Mmm, guilt free chocolate.  Lovely.  After all, I don’t want to look skeletal.  In fact, I would sell my soul for the curves that continue to elude me.  Even when I pig out.  Grrr.  I dread to think what my insides look like.

But one big problem I have when trying on clothes in shops, is that I make the mistake of thinking that something fits me, buying it, and then finding out only through actually wearing it that it is too big.  Jeans do this to me a lot.  Grrr.  Am I the only one who has this trouble?  But then I cause myself more problems by being reluctant to try the smaller size.  But clothes sizing in shops is so random these days, it’s impossible to guess what size you are really.  I certainly don’t buy things before trying them.  Not that this helps me much.  Grrr.  At least I’ve finally figured out what sort of things suit me.  Anything that allows me to fake curves as it happens.  Waist cinching belts are my new best friends.

Sales. Grrr!

I made a huge mistake earlier.  I went into M&S during their up to half price sale.  It was not fun.  I could barely move in there.  I can get terribly claustrophobic at times, and this was one of those times.  What is it about sales that attracts people who just stand around being in the way?  Not to mention the people who are completely incapable of looking where they’re going?  Or those who won’t budge an inch, despite the fact that they have more elbow room than me, and I’m hardly a lard monster.  Fortunately I have perfected the glower, and am capable of squeezing through such crowds.  You have to learn such skills in this place, as during the summer months the actual streets are this bad.  Oh how I look forward to that.  I think I might soon agree with our postman, and favour winter.  Despite the ice trap that is our hill.  Joy.  Anyway, some good did eventually come out of my error.  I found myself a new purse, and got my fifty percent off!  Woohoo!  It’s a shame the rest of my sojourn into M&S was such a horrific experience.  Hmm.  Fortunately not all of our shops are hosting such sales.  Yet.

Though I have found that our town is becoming increasingly busy.  It must be warming up.  Hmm.  But my trips onto town are becoming increasingly plagued by the presence of idiots who suddenly stop dead, right in front of you.  There are also those who appear to have no idea where they’re going in town, even though most of the shops are down the one main street.  There are also those who are amazed by the new giant pound shop.  Classy people they are.  Admittedly I haven’t been in yet, so for all I know it could be that amazing.  I do doubt that however.  The ones who really irritate me however are those who just stop in shop doorways.  And then they have the nerve to glare at you if you accidentally bump them as you try and squeeze past, even though you’ve been saying “excuse me” repeatedly for what feels like ages, but is admittedly probably only mere seconds.  But still, what sane person thinks a shop doorway is a good place to stop for a chat/rummage in a bag/decide where to go next?  There is a whole load of pavement outside the shop for such activities.  Or even stay within the body of the shop while you engage in such activities.  Either option is taken by a majority of people every day.  It is not difficult.  For the majority of us anyway.

Shock Horror! Bailiffs!

Poor Psycho.  He’s very hard done by.  Last week, the bailiffs (who have been after him for months by the way) “stole” his two cars.  Of course as he lives in the town centre and works in the town centre, the possession of these twos cars is vital.  Especially for one as concerned for the environment as Psycho is.  Anyway, sarcasm aside, he claims the cars were stolen as the bailiffs failed to let him know that they were going to take them.  I could be wrong, as I have never had cause to make myself familiar with the laws regarding bailiffs and their rights and stuff, but I kind of assumed the letter threatening bailiffs were the only notice you’d get before the bailiffs turned up at your door?  Oh well, not according to Psycho.  I wonder if he reported the “theft” to the police.  Though he really should be counting himself lucky that it took them so long to resort to taking the cars.  I mean, he’s had long enough to hide them.

He plans to get them back though.  He asked The Ex to illegally sign some legal document thing claiming that he saw the bailiffs taking the cars.  I have no idea what purpose this would have served, but for once The Ex had the sense to refuse Psycho’s request.  The next phase of operation Get Cars Back involved Psycho telling The Ex that he wanted to transfer ownership of the cars to either The Ex or their other brother, Sailor Boy.  He planned to backdate the ownership to a time prior to the arrival of the bailiffs.  Not sure if that’ll be possible myself, but we shall see.

He continues to accumulate his parking fines though, but one of his equally bizarre friends claims to have got him off the latest one.  Apparently there’s some random law stating that all the lines for parking bays have to have a particular sized gap between them, and if these lines are not accurately spaced, the parking bay is invalid.  I assume he didn’t display a disk in a disk zone or something.  Of course, this gem means that they actually went and measured the gaps between these lines on the parking bays.  If you have nothing better to do with your time I suppose, than fight such petty little battles.

Of course, the thing that made me laugh the most was when The Ex informed me that Psycho wanted to take out a restraining order on the council.  I’m not entirely sure how that would work, if anyone would sanction such a thing.  Poor Psycho.  He just cracks me up. Bless him.  Though of course he believes he’s winning.  Apparently the council are so scared of him, they won’t let him meet the mayor of a nearby town.  It has absolutely nothing to do with them knowing he’s a bit of a liability, or the fact that he wasn’t allowed to run for council, and therefore is not on the council, or that he actually has no reason to be involved in the meeting in question as he isn’t a resident of the other town.  In fact, aside from an opportunity to fight our own council, he has no reason to be involved whatsoever.  But no, it’s because the council are scared of him.  Hmm.  Not entirely convinced of that one myself.

Though the cause is progressing.  The bailiffs were forced to return Psycho’s friends van, after they “stole” that.  Of course, as the van was required for the friend’s trade they were actually genuinely in error.  Though the fault was not entirely theirs, as it was just a plain white van.  Major victory for the cause though.  Shame it’s not applicable to Psycho’s two cars.  Especially as his shop is only about a five/ten minute walk from his flat.  Pity.

Looking Forward To The Summer?

Grrr.  Somehow I managed to survive half term, but I'd forgotten how infuriating other people’s kids are.  And my own is difficult to live with when she’s suffering from toddler flu.  Toddler flu is similar to man flu, only it’s much worse.  Ten times worse.  It has a much larger impact on my life for a start.  Now that I’m single, man flu has minimal impact on my life.  So being single isn’t all bad.  I can’t begin to imagine how painful this past week would have been had I had a sick man as well as a sick toddler to look after.  Though of course, as with The Ex, I would have expected him to be capable of looking after himself.  I don’t really do nursing, except where The Toddler’s concerned.  But she’s my little baby, even if she is not three years old, and a big nursery girl, as she keeps telling me.

And such bliss.  She started back at nursery today.  And so I have enjoyed a couple of hours to myself.  Lovely.  Of course, in a matter of weeks, she’ll have her Easter holidays.  And then there’ll be another half term, followed by the agony of summer holidays.  Grrr.  Now this is where I am torn.  I long for warmer weather, so that there is an end to the colds, and toddler flu.  I’m also sick of all the snow and ice.  We live at the top of a hill, and the ice really is lethal.  I almost ended up on my arse again, skating down that hill on the way to nursery.  By some miracle I remained upright.  But I am definitely craving nice warm sunny weather.  Unfortunately, such weather brings with it the tourists.  Hmm.  Not good.  This place is filled with enough weirdoes without adding tourists into the mix.  But it all starts here.  Well, last week, with half term.  Grrr.  We could be spending the summer pushing people off the pier.  While my best friend suns herself in Malaysia.  Grrr.  I’d love a holiday.  But unfortunately money provides a nice little issue there.  And I’m not sure that I could stand such upheaval with The Toddler.  She’s resistant to great change at the moment still.  But I need sunshine.  And heat.  I’m sick of snow, and cold, and wet, and grey.

Another bad thing about this time of year, is that there is a nice spate of birthdays.  The best friend, my little sister and my dad.  There’s also The Ex’s coming up.  I always struggle there.  I’m good, and get him something from The Toddler.  But he always makes an issue of how great it was of me to get him something, as if I really shouldn't have.  Not that I ever present the gift from myself.  Not appropriate to really, given that I only get him something because of The Toddler.  It makes me feel really awkward.  And you can tell when he’s disappointed by what he got.  His family are so materialistic.  It’s not about the thought or effort with them at all.  And bearing in mind the fact that we aren’t seeing each other anymore, well, it’s just awkward.  It’s like he forgets that I only still have anything to do with him because of The Toddler, and if the present doesn’t meet expectations, he acts as though I’ve slighted him.  I just don’t think it’s appropriate to spend a fortune on an ex-boyfriend.  It’s not like he gets me amazing, super expensive presents.  But I wouldn’t want him to, to be honest.

Psycho was apparently arrested last week.  For cutting a clamp off some car.  Apparently he cut clamps off his own two cars as well.  I still can’t help but wonder why he needs two cars when he lives and works in town.  But there we go.  I manage without a car at all.  But I can’t drive.  Anyway, he was arrested, but was released after only fifteen minutes, without charge.  Gutted.  But then again, if he got put away, who would brighten my day by being such an idiot?  I doubt anyone else could match his levels of stupidity.

How To Be A Doting Dad. Not.

Ok.  This week I am presented with an interesting dilemma.  It is also the week that The Ex may have to realise that there is more to being a father than getting to see his daughter when it suits him.  I am rather annoyed right now, but that shall pass.  And to be fair, it is allegedly something medical.  But in all fairness, if he’s known about it for a while, he could have rescheduled the appointment, surely?  For his daughter’s sake?  Oh wait.  Of course.  That’s putting someone else first.  And let us not forget that he, and everyone else in his family, are incapable of putting anyone before themselves, their own children included.  Grrr.

Anyway, The Toddler normally sees her father on Saturdays.  He can’t make it this week because of some medical appointment.  That’s what he told me anyway.  I didn’t ask questions, as what he does with his time really isn’t any of my business.  But he did allude to this last week, to which I said something about rescheduling.  He had asked about meeting midweek, bearing in mind he does know that The Toddler attends nursery every weekday.  Hmm.  Anyway, I of course told him we couldn’t, because of nursery.  And anyway, why should we have to give up our lives to suit him?  He could have easily rescheduled his appointment.  Surely?  Or maybe I’m missing something.  All I know is that I’m going to have one grouchy toddler on my hands when I have to give her the news.  As she is getting older, she now knows that she sees Dad on Saturdays.  She knows that Saturday is the day after the last day of nursery for the week (Friday to you and me).  She will be cross and upset, and will not care in the slightest about excuses.  Oh the joy.  But next week is half-term.  And so she may get to see her father midweek.  I do wish he’d learn to put her first.  It was one of the many things we argued about before I left him.  It’s also something he claims that he does do.  Hmm.  Yeah.

But this whole thing has reminded me of a bizarre incident from a few years back.  Me and The Ex had only recently moved in together, during my final year of university.  He’d just been offered a promotion at work, for which he would have to complete a three day course, and pass an exam.  He called his mother (Matriarch) with this excellent news, putting the call on speakerphone for whatever reason.  But I was astounded by Matriarch’s response.  There was no “Well done son, that’s great!”  Instead, it was “What dates?”  The Ex dutifully relayed the information, and she replied with, “Well you can’t do that.  You’ve a dentist appointment…”  I could not believe that she was proposing he miss out on an opportunity for promotion for a dentist appointment.  I could just imagine what his former boss’s response would have been to that.  Impressed she would not have been.  Least of all because the dentist appointment could be rescheduled.  The promotion course and exam of course could not be.  He went for the promotion though, when I pointed out that the appointment could be rescheduled. 

It’s small wonder therefore that he feels unable to rearrange this Saturday’s appointment for the sake of his daughter.  But I can’t help but wish he would learn to sort his priorities.  Is it wrong for me to expect him to put The Toddler first?

Spies Are Onto Him!

Well, I could barely believe it today when The Ex told me that his brother, Psycho, believed that he was being spied on by MI5.  Apparently his phone is tapped and everything.  Something to do with an occasional clicking sound when it’s in use?  I wouldn’t know.  I’m not into all this conspiracy stuff that Psycho is obsessed with.  What I want to know though is what it is he’s up to.  Why does he think that MI5 would be interested with him?  Surely they wouldn’t be fussed with some small town idiot for refusing to pay council tax and parking fines.  What is Psycho involved in?  Or is he just randomly paranoid?  I suspect the latter myself.  But you never know.  I do find the whole thing thoroughly entertaining though.

There are of course other things fuelling his suspicions.  At about the same time that the clicking phone started, people started loitering in a region near to the house in which his flat is located.  Hmm.  Suspicious.  Especially when you take into account the fact that the flat is right outside the town centre, and there is a parking zone there.  Hmm.  Besides, surely MI5 wouldn’t loiter outside in order to listen to a tapped phone line?  Admittedly I don’t know much about these things.  Hmm.  I don’t know.  It is all to do with his Canadian girlfriend’s phone calls to her father of course.  He lives in Cuba you see, and they always joke about him “sending over the guns” or something random like that.  Psycho feels so strongly about this, he feels the need to warn his own father, who lives down in London, and is apparently going a bit mad.  Poor bloke, having a son trying to convince him that spies are after him.  Madness.

Matriarch

Psycho AKA Mr Ego takes a backseat for the time being.  All he has done lately is get himself in the paper once more, courtesy of a bus breaking down near his shop.  Yes, our local newspaper will report on buses breaking down.  There was an article about a man being cross about head lice once.  In fact, that was front page news!  I love this place. 

Anyway, I’m wanting to talk about Matriarch, The Ex’s mother.  She is undoubtedly from a different time, and lacks tact and any kind of social decency in my opinion.  Maybe I’m just easily offended and completely intolerant.  But there we go.  Tolerance is certainly something that’s passed Matriarch by.  Her son (my ex) is diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (I’m not actually convinced that he has it, and I have done extensive reading up on the subject.  More than Matriarch I’d wager) and she writes him off as a no hoper.  Any support?  No.  But she made sure she got his benefits.  Hmm.  Caring.  And why is he so useless I wonder?  Seriously, if he has Asperger’s, so does his brother Psycho, and Matriarch.  The three of them seem to have the exact same social deficiency.  In my admittedly uneducated opinion.  But he was diagnosed very young, and told it was only a very mild case.  Hmm.

Anyway, Matriarch has annoyed me this week by her choice of Easter present for The Toddler.  A sweet jar, so I can buy loads of sweets and chocolate with which to bribe her, and keep it all in one place, that The Toddler shall be well aware of.  Well, I try to limit what sweet things The Toddler gets on account of not wanting her to become overweight, or for her her teeth to drop out (for the wrong reasons).  Her cousin had most of her baby teeth pulled out by the dentist and I’m not buying whatever random thing it was The Ex said about that.  I’d seen the teeth for myself.  At the age of three, they were black.  And The Ex’s teeth aren’t pretty.  None of them have pretty teeth to be honest.  Not big on the brushing you see.  Eugh.  Anyway, getting back on track, another point is that I try not to bribe her.  I’m no angle, and confess that on occasion I have.  Never with chocolate or sweets mind.  I use sticker charts.  And I prefer to call it rewarding good behaviour.  I may also take advantage of prearranged visits to my parents’ house.  Hmm.  I have no need for a sweet jar.  The Toddler has no need for a sweet jar.  Is it really too difficult to actually ask what we might want/find useful?  I thought getting presents was about giving to others?  Ok, as a kid it’s about getting.  But The Family really have no idea.  And it all stems from Matriarch.  This sort of thing is a result of nurture not nature.  Hopeless.  And at least it’s a while before Easter.  Who knows what may happen in the meantime.

But seriously, woe betide anyone who does not think like Matriarch.  Of course, it’s the rest of us who are at fault.  She’s blameless.  Apparently.  Oh yes, dare raise your voice to her and the rest of The Family will come down on you like a ton of bricks.  Who cares what the row was about.  You do not upset Matriarch!

Changes

I am slowly adjusting to the new schedule.  Up at the crack of dawn to get The Toddler ready for nursery, and then doing a bit of shopping and/or cleaning until time to pick her up.  Then it’s home again to cook her tea and get her ready for bed.  I am also adjusting to The Toddler’s new relationship with our postman.  I am surprised it has taken her this long to cotton on to his existence actually, bearing in mind I got to know all of our neighbours through her waving manically at them all through the living room window.  Anyhow, as our schedule now crosses his, she has started her manic waving at him too.  And of course, she yells to him down the street at the top of her voice “Hiya Postman!”  Today’s was, “Where are you going Postman?  Come back!”  Only slightly embarrassing, but I am sure I shall get her back in due course.  Of course, it is my excuse to give him a smile and a “hello”.  He is very attractive.  Of course, I would be less mortified if he was not so.  But I am beginning to wonder if I was wrong and the ex was right.  Maybe The Toddler is not such a man repellent after all.  Hmm.  Worth investigating methinks.

But that is all the change we have had so far this year.  Psycho on the other hand has still been unable to find a job.  Poor man.  Yes, the recession is more evident than ever for him.  Shame he missed it before really.  he might have been better prepared.  He is of course still adamant that the wool shop is doing fine.  Hmm.  Not so convinced.  Oh, and the great laugh is that the ex and his younger brother are a bit pissed off with Psycho about lying to them about the wool shop’s success, bearing in mind that their trust fund paid for it.  I don’t know.  But given Psycho’s past experiences with running shops, I don’t actually have any sympathy for them.  His last shop went bust by the way.  So naturally his brothers give him thousands of pounds of theirs to help him open a new shop.  And now they’re surprised it’s going pear shaped?  Hmm.  Like I said, as mean as it is, no sympathy.  We are meant to learn from mistakes after all aren’t we?  No matter how pushy older siblings may be?  I may have forgotten to mention that the ex ended up with loads of debt courtesy of the first shop going bust.  Psycho’s credit rating was so low, he couldn’t get a loan to get the first shop started, so the ex did.  And now history repeats itself.

I am hoping the madness picks up a bit before summer.  Aside from The Family, things have been remarkably normal around here lately.  Scary.  But summer does tend to attract the nutters.  Sane people do not holiday here evidently.  Hmm.

Psycho Strikes Again

Well, I think Psycho must be about to win uncle of the year award or something.  He got the most amazing presents for his niece and nephew.  Of course the toddler got nothing.  After the nothing she received for her birthday I wasn’t really surprised.  Anyway, for his niece he got … a scarf … that had been displayed in his wool shop window for months … a free sample from some wool company!  For his nephew he got … a woolly jumper … that had been displayed in his wool shop window for months … a free sample from some wool company!  Stingy bastard!  Hah.  He’ll be loved.  Of course the toddler didn’t really miss out at all.  And I suppose that I should actually feel flattered that I have instilled such strong feelings in him, by doing absolutely nothing at all!  I barely know him, and always tried to be polite (I’m one of these sickening people who tries to be nice to everyone unless given good reason not to be nice), and he responds by despising me so.  Wow.  Well done me :)

I just need to try and instil strong feelings of a different kind in someone who’s actually a decent chap now.  Maybe complete adoration?  Love?  If I can do complete dislike, then surely I can do love?  Project for this year, now that the toddler’s at nursery.  Especially now the ex knows that I’ve moved out of the parents’ house.  Hmm.  He’s already threatened to pop round.  Now I don’t mind him seeing the toddler once a week, but I’m not willing to do evenings as well.  I like my me time.  Hmm.  And we’ve nothing in common etc. etc.  There were good reasons for us splitting up.  Aside from the borderline violence and the emotional abuse etc. etc.  It’s not like we’re still really close friends or anything.  We really don’t have enough in common to be close.  Hmm.  Not that we ever were really.  We may have been friends before we got together, but we certainly weren’t really close.  I’m not sure I’ve ever been really close to anyone, I tend to be a bit too guarded to let anyone in enough.  And sure, I may actually have let him in a bit when we were together, but my experiences with him have only served to make me even more careful in that respect.  So careful, I’ve started this blog.  But I need to vent somewhere, and my diary only has limited space.  Hmm.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about the great amusement that is Psycho.  I can only hope that he continues to be a complete idiot in the coming year.  If I have to continue having anything to do with The Family, the least Psycho can do is keep me amused by being a complete moron.  I like to think of it as compensation.  If he has to maintain such strong feelings of outrage and hatred towards me, then he can provide me with endless mirth.  Fair trade I think.

I was also somewhat amused by the news that as his wool shop is doing so well, he now actually has to go and look for another job.  After denouncing the recession, claiming that there wasn’t one (not like there’s any evidence for it.  People being laid off?  Where?  Bankruptcy?  You’re having a laugh!), he’s finding it just a wee bit difficult.  Hmm.  Can’t say I’m surprised.  This is a small town, and he is a complete nutter.  He also takes arrogance to new heights.  A charming fellow.  Wonder how Doormat, AKA his girlfriend, will cope in the shop on her own?  Probably have a ball without him breathing down her neck.  I would assume anyway.  Poor creature.  She did of course try to leave him, but stays with him now because she’d be deported otherwise.  Though if I had to choose between Vancouver and freedom, or this dump and Psycho, I know which I’d choose.  Of course, my info all comes from the ex, and he may not be the most reliable source.  Of course, he’d have me believe that Doormat is the root of all evil, and that Psycho is the poor put upon fool.  Yes, us women, man beaters the lot of us.  And of course, self defence is not allowed.  Hmm.  Needless to say, I did come to my senses there, and did a runner.  No longer a doormat myself.

On a super positive positive note though, The Toddler started nursery this week, and she loves it.  Three days in and she’s perfectly happy to be left there.  I meanwhile miss her like hell.  But I shall adapt.  And the three toddler free hours shall be very useful.  Shopping and cleaning shall be so much simpler.  Yippee.