And I Was Feeling So Positive For a Minute There Too

Grrrr.  Government freezing working tax credit.  Grrrr.  So, here’s my situation.  I want to become a counsellor.  It is of course my fault for not getting the relevant training done in the years prior to now.  That said as I’m doing a part time course it won’t actually interfere with me finding work so hopefully I won’t have to jack it all in if and when I do manage to find a job.  Anyway, say I manage to get myself a nice minimum wage waitressing job that allows me to work enough hours to actually make some money that doesn’t have to be spent on childcare, the freeze in working tax credit means I have a little less money to spend on stuff.  Now our weekly costs are quite high.  I have myself and my daughter to feed and clothe.  I also have gas, electricity, and water bills to pay.  I have rent, as the benefit I am currently entitled to doesn’t quite cover what we have to pay.  I can manage now though.  That said, we shall be homeless come July if I don’t manage to find a job by then.  Eek.  Anyway, we can manage for now.  We will also still manage if I find myself a nice minimum wage job working sixteen hours or more a week.  A freeze to working tax credit will begin to present a problem though I think, as prices and costs increase and my income doesn’t.  I have a child to care for.  I don’t care about myself.  I can manage without food for a bit.  I can manage without heating.  But my daughter?  That’s not fair.  Now of course things wouldn’t actually get that bad.  I’m just moaning and stressing here.  But still.  Of course I’d be fine if I had some nice Tory husband to take care of me and The Child wouldn’t I?  Not all of us single parents are single parents through choice.  Now I know I chose to leave The Ex, but he was emotionally abusive and I had The Child to think of.  If it had totally been up to me, The Ex would have undergone a complete personality change and we’d be a nice happy family.  Unfortunately life doesn’t work out like that.  And may I also say I am actually one of the really lucky ones.  Grrrr.  I just think the current government hate kids.  After all, this doesn’t just affect single parents.  It affects other families too.  Kids.  And why are they important exactly?  Not like they’re our future or anything is it?  Oh wait.  Yes they are.  Sodding Tories.  Grrrr.

And I know I went majorly off track there.  I’m just worried that I’m going to have to give up on my counselling before it’s taken off so that I can work as a waitress for the rest of my life.  And yes, I am very cross with myself for not sorting this sooner.  In my defence, until last month the Jobcentre were very down on the whole counselling idea so I got zero practical advice there.  Until a kind lady decided to put me in touch with a careers advisor.  Now why do I have to be too thick to sort this sort of thing by myself?  Why?  And the worst thing is that I’m smart enough to know I’m completely thick.  Grrrr.

Rant over.  And no, I don’t think it makes any sense.  Felt good though.

Bakery Girl

I really hope things work out for The Ex with Bakery Girl.  She’s his latest love interest by the way.  She works in the bakery he goes in everyday for his post work cuppa.  She could just be being friendly to a regular customer of course.  And like many other people she does gush over The Child.  Though he reckons she won’t let anyone else serve him and always has to do it herself.  I cannot comment without seeing anything of course.  And naturally The Ex doesn’t want me to accompany him in there as he doesn’t want Bakery Girl to get the wrong impression.  I do hope it works out.  If it does, he’ll be happy for a bit and shouldn’t give me too much grief.  If it doesn’t however, I’m in for a rough time in the not so distant future.  Joyous.

And I’ve still heard nothing from any of the volunteer places.  I’m suddenly remembering what I was told the day I turned up to apply for volunteer jobs.  There are more volunteers than there are volunteer jobs.  Joy.  So I could find getting a volunteer job as unlikely as getting a regular job.  Wonderful.  Maybe I’m just having a bad day.  Maybe I’m just having a bad season.  Maybe I’ll be more positive in spring.  Or when/if anyone actually gets in touch to offer me a volunteer job.  Then again, I might get a waitressing job sooner.  Or I could end up doing something I’ve never done before, like working in a shop.

I need to get out and do something again today.  If I stay in I’ll go insane.  I have too much time to think and dwell on things.  Unfortunately housework doesn’t distract me.  I can dwell on things and stress while doing housework.  In fact, I have some of my most destructive thoughts while doing the washing up or vacuuming.  I need to get a job soon.  Very soon.  Or I might just crack up completely.

Stress

It’s probably not all that bad really.  I just handle stress really badly.  Basically I don’t handle stress at all.  I just go a bit doolally instead.  Anyway, The Ex keeps asking me for relationship  advice.  When will he learn that I don’t have a clue?  Women are a mystery to me.  Men are a mystery to me.  In fact, people in general are a mystery to me.  Perhaps that’s why I find psychology so interesting.  But anyway, I hope him all the best with his latest love interest, but I really wish he wouldn’t seek my advice.  I’ll only stuff it up for him I’m sure.  I might wrongly assume she really likes him (like last time), or wrongly assume she’s not that interested (due to a desire not to make the same mistake as last time).  He has far more experience of this stuff than me.  I really don’t know why he thinks my opinion counts.  All I ask is that he doesn’t shack up with some psychopath who will cause problems for The Child.

Of course, given his recent relationship history, it probably won’t happen at all.

Then there’s the family situation.  My family that is, not The Family.  I always thought we were relatively normal and sound.  Seems that isn’t the case.  We’re about to self implode, and just before Christmas too.  Joy.  Hopefully it’ll all get sorted out, but this whole thing is causing a major headache actually.  Grrrr.

And then there’s The Situation.  Sensible me emerges occasionally, but she doesn’t stick around long enough.  I should end it.  And I’ve given him more than enough chances to end it himself.  Naturally he hasn’t taken them.  He won’t make it easy for me.  He promises not to hurt me etc. etc.  I want to believe him, because I am a complete over naive idiot.  People in these situations always end up getting hurt.  No matter how honest people are being.  Grrrr.  Maybe I’ll have another brave moment soon.  Maybe I’ll have the courage to move on.  It might be tough going at first, but I might loath myself a little less in the long run.  Then again I could carry on as normal.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Gangsters

Well, I don’t feel so bad today despite having drunk more last night than I have in a very long time.  It was a good night though, even though only three of us actually dressed in our gangster costumes.  I also discovered that I dance better when I’m a bit on the tipsy side.  Well, I might not dance better, but I’m a heck of a lot less self conscious.  And only a couple of people tried to nab my hat.  I’ll have to try and get out again soon though.  I need more fun like that.  Besides, it took my mind off all the stressful stuff.  My throat is very sore though.  I need more cough medicine it seems.

And The Child can’t decide whether she likes the cold or not.  On the way to the shops we had the “I’m cold” tantrum.  On the way home from the shops she was busy telling me she liked the cold because it meant we would be getting snow soon.  Hmm.  I don’t like the cold.  Snow might look nice but it’s actually a pain.  I can’t wait until summer.  Assuming we get one next year that is.  Hmm.  Now should I risk hoping there?

Cold

I am freezing.  As I write this, my heating is on and I am wearing a woolly dress thing with a giant man fleece over the top and I am still freezing.  To be fair I do have a bad cold.  My voice keeps going and my throat feels like sandpaper.  My nose won’t stop running either.  And I’m still going on my gangster night out tomorrow no matter what, even if I do end up dancing with a box of tissues.  And freezing to death while queuing for a taxi home.  I hate winter.  It has been so much colder today.  The mild temperatures did not prepare me for today.  Bloody weather.  Grrrr.

And I don’t remember whether I mentioned that competition for volunteer jobs is apparently as fierce as competition for paid jobs.  So, come whenever I’m put on Jobseeker’s Allowance, I might still not even have a volunteer job.  I still hope that I shall avoid Jobseeker’s by being both properly employed, and having a nice volunteer job though.  I’m still being hopeful it seems.  I just hope it all pays off.  I wouldn’t mind it paying off in where The Situation’s concerned too.  I’m being more honest there now though, but I don’t think it’s changed much.  He knows why I’m freaking out now though.  In theory.  Hmm

Unleashed

I may very soon be unleashed upon the world.  Or upon my town at least.  Maybe.  Provided there are some voluntary jobs that fit with the stuff I’m wanting to do.  All I have to do now is sit and wait.  Well, I don’t literally have to sit and wait.  I have to wait for someone to get in touch and say they want me though.  And who knows, I might actually get to help people after all.  I obviously won’t be doing anything like counselling though as you need to actually be qualified to do that.  But once I get qualified (fingers crossed that happens) I’ll be able to do that.  And I got my application for the counselling skills course in today.  Hopefully I’ll get on the course, and get started working my way towards a more palatable future.  Fingers crossed.  And I’m really hoping that the hoping thing doesn’t come back to bite me on the bum at any point.

I’m trying not to hope too much in relation to The Situation though.  I’m having a sensible day today though I think.  Maybe.  But I might be insane again tomorrow.  I still think I’m being an idiot though.  Hmm.  We’ll soon see I guess.

Joyous

I hate this time of year.  Sure, when it’s not totally grey (as in when we actually get a bit of sun) the scenery can be rather nice to look at.  But for the most part it’s grey and miserable.  Also, I am now going to feel more or less permanently ill until spring/summer time.  Also, The Child shall be more or less permanently ill until spring/summer time, and will therefore be grumpier than normal for that time.  I also hate the cold.  I think I might actually hate the cold more than I hate being too hot.  I might change my mind about that in summer of course, but I’m not sure.

Also add to the general crapness I feel at this time of year The Situation, then it makes for a particularly brilliant time.  Yes I cracked.  I texted him earlier.  I am a bad person.  He might not reply though.  Which would be both good and bad of course.  The same can be said for him replying I guess.  So uncool of me though.

How Could I Forget?

There has been other major news this week, besides me getting my hopes up about possibly becoming a counsellor in the not too distant future.  The Canadian (long suffering girlfriend of The Ex’s older brother Psycho) has finally decided that she is definitely leaving.  And she isn’t just breaking up with Psycho either.  She’s actually moving back to Canada.  Not before he accuses her of stealing his son’s school trousers though.  Seriously.  Though what a twenty-something woman would want with some grey boys school trousers is a mystery to me.  Psycho really is so petty.  He should be grateful she put up with him for so long.  She put up with him longer than I put up with The Ex I think, and Psycho is way more volatile than him.  Oh well.  I hope she’s ok, and that she manages to get herself sorted all right.  I of course think she is doing the right thing, though of course the right thing isn’t always easy to do.  Getting away from a controlling boyfriend is definitely one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.  I wish her luck though, and hope she’s happier without Psycho.  I have little doubt she will be though with time.

Are High Hopes Dangerous?

It seems to have always been the case that if I get my hopes up about something it always goes wrong.  I am therefore very wary of the fact that I am feeling very positive about the prospect of actually getting somewhere with the counselling idea.  Now, to explain a bit, when I was very messed up in my teens I think I could really have benefitted from some counselling.  There are times I think I could benefit from it now to be honest.  But anyway, I kind of went to uni with the idea that I might like to pursue a career in counselling.  Then I moved in with The Ex and got pregnant, and any ideas I had had previously were forgotten or pushed aside as stupid and undoable.  Now, having been on income support for nearly four years, I have finally been put in touch with people who might actually be able to help me pursue this course after all.  And I have been banging on about the counselling to the Jobcentre for years, so I am a little annoyed.  Of course, I may do this and find that the first few people I spoke to at the Jobcentre were right and that there are no job prospects here for counsellors.  Of course, I would be prepared to move away from here for a job that I might actually enjoy.  I want to help people who are suffering in the way I suffered when I was a teenager.  I am really hoping I can do this.  Of course it will require me to do a course, and some volunteer work.  I might have to give all that up so that I can be a waitress or something.  And I am really worried that that is what will happen.  But surely I deserve something to go right for me for a change?  And I need something to cheer me up after the disaster that was The Situation.  Roll on January and my counselling course.  Assuming that I am able to do it of course.

The End

I feel awful.  Scarily enough that isn’t an exaggeration.  I wish it was.  I am clearly far too sensitive.  I clearly got in way over my head.  But at least I have done it.  Kind of.  And there is still some residual guilt going on in there.  So, anyway, I might just have managed to extricate myself from The Situation.  And yes, I’m still not a hundred percent sure it is what I want, but that’s because I’m an idiot.  I am being sensible now.  I shall remain sensible now.  And I shall be fine.  I shall.  Of course, I might be a bit volatile for a few days while I get used to the idea.  But I shall be fine. 

My night out on Saturday could well prove to be a timely distraction.  Of course I might drink too much and disgrace myself, but I won’t go there.  Drunken tears are not a good look.  And this whole thing is my own fault anyway.  Besides, I’ll hardly be inconspicuous in my spangly gangster dress.  I shall keep my composure.  I shall not let this get me down.  I am above such things.  There, my new mantra (not that I had one before.  I am above such things.

And I will try not to be dumb enough to get involved with anyone like this again.  Celibacy.  I must embrace celibacy.  My sanity demands it.

If Only I’d Known

At some point during the summer last year, my best friend came up to visit.  Then again, maybe it was when she came for my birthday in the autumn. Anyway, it was a long time before March, and I’m pretty sure it was summer rather than autumn.  Well, we made a little deal.  The deal was that she would email this guy she met while on a course who she liked, and I would friend someone on Facebook who I fancied the summer I got together with The Ex.  Basically I got together with The Ex because I didn’t think I stood a chance with this other guy. 

I ended up forgetting that I’d sent the friend request because it was absolutely ages before I heard anything from him.  Not that friending someone on Facebook automatically means you’ll actually hear from them.  But anyway, one night back in March he actually accepted my friend request (months after I’d sent it) and we had a really long random chat about stuff.  I then heard nothing from him again until June.  Not that it really mattered as we both have our own lives and live opposite ends of the country.  It was just nice to catch up.  Anyway, once again it was a little while before he got in touch again.  And yes, I never got in touch back because that’s something I’m really bad at.  Things have changed a little bit now though.  For a start, I know that my getting in touch with him is quite welcome.  I feel bad about it though.

Well, I had a bit less of a wait before he got in touch again, as The Situation kind of began in August.  It wasn’t until late September that I began to understand that I was caught up in The Situation though.  Yes, I really am that naive.  Anyway, someone being a bit flirty online does not necessarily mean that there’s anything going on.  Flirting can be entirely innocent.  I would say I am good at innocent flirting, but I’m not.  I’m better at that than I am at not so innocent flirting though.  And I still cannot believe it took me nearly a month to realise what was actually going on.  Of course he’s married, hence The Situation.  And he lives absolutely miles away, which adds to my confusion.  Why me?  Why now?  And how can I extricate myself without there being any repercussions?  Well I kind of know the answer to that one, but I don’t want to end this whatever this is completely.  Now, before anyone judges me, nothing is going on.  For a start it can’t because of the distance we’re talking here.  Also there’s the fact that we haven’t actually seen each other for eight years.  But, there kind of is something.  Well, he’s pushing for something anyway.  I liked having another friend to talk to and confide in though.  But it’s all changed since I asked The Questions.  Now I don’t know what it is I feel.  And I don’t know why I want to hide it from him, but I am angry I think.  As well as guilty (despite having done nothing). 

Here’s a question I do have though.  I understand that relationships are difficult and require work, but if there are problems that are potentially fixable, why would someone try and start an affair type thing that isn’t really an affair, instead of fixing the problems?  When The Ex and I broke up, the problems we were weren’t fixable.  I had no feelings for him anymore, and I assume he felt the same lack of anything.  He certainly acted like he felt nothing.  But even so, I think I would have felt guilty if I’d been cheating on him.  Then again maybe not.  I can never know that.  But that is something I have a problem with.  The lack of guilt this old crush claims to feel regarding what he is doing to his wife.  And even though I may still be relatively innocent here (except that I haven’t told him where to go), I feel consumed with guilt at times.  Other times it’s just the anger or confusion.  But why did he have to choose me for this?  Why couldn’t he have found someone else to do this with?  Someone else might have been far more willing to play along.  Someone else might have given him what he wanted.  And have I blown any chance of us being friends now?

If only I had known what he had meant.  If only I’d known he was being serious.  Or is he being serious?  Perhaps this whole things is just a game?  But he tells me I can trust him.  And I think I can.  He answered my questions in a manner that certainly suggests he was being honest.  He also tells me he would never hurt me.  Unfortunately I don’t see how he can avoid that.  This whole situation is hurting me.  And I am sure he doesn’t intend that, but someone always gets hurt in these situations.  I know that someone will be me.  And so maybe it is time to read through the message I’ve prepared once more.  Maybe I shall add a bit more, or take a bit out.  Maybe I shall just ask him another load of questions instead.  Or maybe I’ll do what I’ve been doing all week, and put it off for a bit longer.  I know I need to end this situation though.  It can’t go on.

The Child’s Premature Arrival

I’m still thinking about The Child, and the trauma of her arrival.  I was scared for reasons other than the fact that she was premature, as I had pre-eclampsia.  I was also only in my early twenties and had just graduated from uni.  There was an element of “What the hell have I done?” going on there as well.  Of course that changed when I first saw her.  I was however absolutely terrified of hurting her as she was so small and fragile looking.  None of the clothes we had fit her, and so when my parents came to visit us in hospital that day they brought with them a load or prem baby clothes and nappies.  She didn’t need them immediately though as she was jaundiced and had to be kept under a UV lamp.  She kept pulling her scratch mittens off as well, and the eye mask that was to protect her eyes from the lamp.  It was very strange feeding her through a tube, and I found it a great relief once she was out of the incubator.  Still, I continued to be terrified of hurting her, but I think I managed all right in the end.

Of course The Family didn’t seem to care at all, and that really didn’t help the experience.  My family were great though, and helped out a lot.  I probably didn’t acknowledge that fact at the time though, and I do regret that.  They’re still here for us now though, even if The Family aren’t.  In fact it might be better for The Child that way.  And The Ex does try.  I probably don’t give him enough credit really.  But then he does scare me to death with his temper still at times.  I wish I could trust him more, because The Child can be a nightmare at times.  I love her to bits though, and continue to be very grateful she’s as healthy as she is.  I just wish her arrival hadn’t been quite so dramatic and traumatic.  I wish I could have found bonding with her a bit easier too.

Fun Times. Yay

Well, I had yet another barny with The Ex today.  Now, to be fair it is a stressful time of year, but still.  I was grumbling about how I fell like an old woman with all the aches and pains I’ve got at the moment.  Yes I have had an endless stream of colds since the arrival of the cold weather.  Anyway, he turned to me and said, “Well you look your age.”  My age is pushing thirty, so naturally I was thrilled with his assessment.  Hmm.  I kind of went silent, waiting for him to realise what he’d said and apologise.  When no apology was forthcoming I voiced my grievance and then all hell broke loose.  Naturally it was all my fault and it was me being awful.  All I wanted was a brief apology.  All he’d had to do was say sorry and it’d have been fine.  But no.  I got an earful for taking it the way I did.  And he wouldn’t even attempt to understand why I might have taken any offence at all.  There was certainly no apology.  And so I ended up having to flee the situation.  I hate that he can still do this to me.  I hate that he can still scare me with his temper.  I hate that he still treats me like this, and I hate that he tried to pin all the blame on me, as if his response was reasonable.  If I’d made some thoughtless remark like that, I’d have just apologised.  I really didn’t make that big a deal of it.  And I certainly didn’t deserve the earful I got.  And it was in public too.  Cringe.

Oh well, hopefully that’ll be it again for a while.  Hmm.  Then again, if money’s becoming a stress for him again, what with Christmas…

I must be more positive.  I must.  It’ll all be fine.

I hate this time of year.

World Prematurity Day

As it’s November 17th, and therefore World Prematurity Day, I just thought I’d tell a little bit about my experiences with a premature baby.  The Child was born prematurely as I had severe pre-eclampsia, and it was decided that to carry on my pregnancy could prove too dangerous to both myself and The Child.  I really don’t want to dwell on how dangerous as the whole thing still kind of freaks me out a bit if I’m honest.  And I really don’t want to go through it again, hence my decision never to have any more children.  Anyway, one thing I remember very clearly is that the midwives and doctors were all very surprised that The Child was the right size for her level of development given the complications.  And when she was born she was amazingly healthy for a premature baby.  She scored an eight on her first Apgar test, and any parent will know that that is rare even for a full term baby.  It was a huge relief, as even though the survival rate for babies born five weeks early is ninety-nine percent, that means that here in Britain, one in every hundred babies born five weeks early dies due to being born too early. 

Due to being premature, I was only able to hold The Child for a couple of minutes after giving birth before she had to be taken away and put in an incubator.  She looked so small, and we didn’t have any clothes that fit her as we hadn’t been prepared for her early arrival at all.  Only a couple of hours had passed between the doctors deciding that I needed to be induced so early, and me actually being sent to the delivery room.  And The Ex wasn’t particularly supportive.  I remember being terrified that something would happen to The Child.  It was even more scary as I was not entirely sure why it was even happening.  I had read a bit about pre-eclampsia before being admitted to hospital, as my midwife had been so convinced that I had it.  The hospital had always sent me back home though saying I was just dehydrated.  This was because I complained of bad headaches, like the migraines I used to get when I was a teenager.  I was unprepared for the hospital to suddenly start taking me seriously.  And I still wonder what might have happened if I had been given some treatment to keep my blood pressure under control.  Was it preventable?  I am just very grateful that The Child was, and still is very healthy. 

Others are not as lucky as us.

Argh!

Why did I do it?  Grrr.  Why did I ask the questions?  Grrr.  Ok they needed asking.  I needed to do it for my own sanity.  And I did know before I asked that I might not be a hundred per cent happy with the response.  Grrr.  I expected the response I got though, so it’s not like it’s a huge surprise, but still.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  And one minute I’m feeling awful, guilty and miserable, and the next I’m angry and pissed off.  I’m angry with myself for letting things get to this point.  I’m angry with myself for not asking these questions sooner.  I’m angry with myself for not just trusting my instincts and running for the hills in the first place.  And yet I’m also cross with him.  He knew how I felt yet he pushed anyway.  He knew his position yet he pushed anyway.  He knows exactly what he’s done too, despite my assurances that it’s all fine.  And now I’m too much of a wimp to tell him what I’m feeling, because no matter how much of this situation is his fault, I could have said no and put an end to everything before it even started.  I could have just ceased all contact.  And I didn’t.  I could have found the answers to my questions sooner, but I didn’t.  But he shouldn’t have assured me he wouldn’t hurt me when he knew he would.  Grrrrr.  Men.  Grrrrr.  Selfish.  That’s what he was.  Selfish.  And so was I.  Maybe.  Though maybe it started as me just finding it hard to say no.  But there must have been an element of selfishness.  Or maybe I’m just a masochist?  I guess what I’m really guilty of is hope.  Hope.  It’s a dangerous thing.  I must learn not to hope anymore.  It’s never done me any good in the past.  I always end up disappointed and humiliated.  I specialise at that.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  And now I probably just seem self obsessed and morose.  Maybe I am those things too.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.  But I never claimed to be a good person.  Sure I try to be nice, but a nice person wouldn’t have got herself into this situation in the first place.  I guess I just got what I deserve.

Celibacy is definitely the way forward.  But have I really learnt my lesson.  I’m possibly more insane than the rest of the world, so probably not.  I like to think I have, but The Situation might not be over yet.  It probably is though.  In a way I really hope it is.  But I’m not sure.  If he doesn’t let it go, I don’t know what I’ll actually do.  Grrrrr.  I hate feeling like this.  I really do need to learn to switch all these feelings off.  I need to become a robot I think.  Maybe then I’ll be a more rational person.  I need to stop being so sensitive anyway.

And I’m finding writing a CV nigh on impossible.  Selling myself?  Never something I’ve been any good at.  I’m too self effacing.  Maybe that’s why I’m such a sucker for flattery.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

My Daughter’s Dad

That is of course The Ex.  I tend not to refer to him as my daughter’s dad though, even though he is.  But today he introduced me to two different people as his daughter’s mum.  Now I’m not sure why but I felt just a little bit uncomfortable with that.  I think I’d rather he referred to me as his ex-girlfriend really.  I might even prefer him to refer to me as his ex-fiancée than as his daughter’s mum.  I mean, as much as I might regret my relationship with The Ex and stuff, we were together for four and a half years.  And again, as much as I hate to admit it we were actually technically engaged for a while.  But no, I am merely his daughter’s mum.  Hmm.  It doesn’t really bother me actually, I just thought it was a bit strange.  And what was actually said was something like, “No she’s not my girlfriend.  We’re just friends, but she’s my daughter's mum.  We’re the best of friends now though.”  At least he got the not his girlfriend but right.  Friends might be pushing it a bit.  Or maybe I’m being harsh.  Sometimes I would consider him kind of a friend.  I wouldn’t say we’re the best of friends though.  And we were only out shopping together given that we’re hunting out presents and party stuff for The Child.  And was that fun.  I am dreading the next joint shopping trip.  Best of friends indeed.  His daughter’s mum.  Then again, perhaps people around town will think we were never really any more than friends.  Hmm.  Perhaps not so bad?

The number of kids coming to The Child’s party continues to increase too.  In fact, we’ve only has one say he’s unable to come so far,  Maybe we should have invited fewer?  The next shopping trip might just break the bank.  Eek!

And a slightly different topic.  Buy a webcam or not?  The dilemma.  Though I’m veering more towards getting one than before.  I freaked out slightly while pricing some up earlier though.  And it had nothing to do with the cost.  Oh how I love overcomplicated situations.  Hmm.

And so it Starts

“I like black hair. I wish I had black hair.”  And so The Child’s dissatisfaction with her appearance begins.  And she’s not yet even five.  Joy.  Her hair is a nice colour though.  It’s the same colour as mine, and hairdressers are always telling me what a gorgeous colour it is.  But her hair is probably one of the better things to hate.  Of course, she doesn’t hate her hair really.  Not yet anyway.  And when she’s bigger she’ll find something more problematic to fixate on.  I hate my nose.  And my tummy.  Though maybe hate is too strong a word.  Both could be improved let’s put it that way, but I’d rather leave them as they are than get surgery.  Not that I disapprove of surgery completely, if it makes you happy.  It’d be nice if people could be happy without resorting to that though of course.

I managed to nearly set the house on fire this morning too.  The electric heater started making this dodgy sounding crackling noise, and when I turned it off it sparked and there was a fair bit of smoke.  No fire though, thank god.  Of course, now we’ve no electric heater, and as gas costs a fortune, we might just have to freeze to death while we get ready for school.  I can’t afford to have the heating on for that long.  Then again, when I get a job all the extra cash (that which doesn’t fund the childcare bill anyway) can pay for the gas.  And I could try and replace it of course.  It’s my parents’ heater though.  I hope they aren’t too mad that we bust it.  I’m sure they won’t be.  They’ll probably just be relieved that there was no fire either.  Not the most fun way to start your Monday morning.  On the plus side the snails are still alive, so there’s some good too.  And we get rid of them back to school today.  Bless them.  They’re strange creatures are snails. 

And oh no.  The Child has found the Argos catalogue.  She wants just about everything for her birthday.  Joy.

Bonfire Night

The Child continues to be scared of fireworks.  We nearly made it to the fireworks display at Filey, but as we approached and the fireworks started, so did the ‘I want to go home’ tantrum.  As annoying as it might have been, it was expected.  And we got to see some fireworks as we drove home.  It’d just be nice to actually be able to do stuff like this with her without there being a tantrum.  And yes, I know she’s scared of loud sounds, but it is becoming quite a problem.  At times anyway.  I can’t even get her on a train.  Grrr.  Oh well.

The snails go back to school tomorrow.  They’ve been really boring all day today.  The Child and I were hoping to be able to hold them, but they’ve both been stuck to the lid of the tank all afternoon.  Boring things.  I hope I haven’t accidentally killed them.  I have to confess I am becoming increasingly concerned by their inactivity.  Is the tank too dry?  Is it too moist?  Did I not wash the veg well enough, and have I accidentally finished them off with pesticides?  I need to stop stressing.  They’ll probably come alive again soon.  I hope so anyway.  Hmmm.  I can’t even manage plants, so maybe I shouldn’t have attempted snails.  Oh dear.  But I’m sure they’ll be fine.  Hopefully anyway.

Snails

The Child and I shall be looking after her class snails this weekend.  In theory they are very easy to look after.  They’re African Land Snails, and so require a heat pad as well as green veg and water squirting on their tank.  I say in theory though as I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve bitten off a bit more than I can chew here.  The Child has a bit of a destructive streak you see.  Hmm.  Fingers crossed we manage not to kill the poor things.  At least I’m not grossed out by snails.  But then again if I was, we wouldn’t have put our names down for snail duty.  Trust The Child to be the first in her class to take on snail duty though.  Bless her.  Anyway, I hope we succeed in keeping them alive over the weekend.

The Ex and I have also managed to get The Child’s birthday party more or less organised.  Scary.  And after The Child’s party, I’ve a gangster themed night out.  A fun month ahead for me it seems.  And for once I’m not being entirely sarky.