The mother of all Blogs

So here I am again, it's been a while, hooray! (I'm sure that's what some people are shouting, bored of my ramblings) Well it's just tough because I feel like letting one out and nothing can stop me.... as many of my poor, nearest and dearest will confirm.
Lots has happened since I last bent your lug holes and most of you will be aware of those things as you are a friend on that dreaded social networking site known as Facebook. Yes, I am one of those people that likes to share but as I have mentioned before, nearly all my friends on there are actual, real friends that I see or talk to, sadly not the ones I also dream of, like Kevin McCloud.... I did request him but I'm still waiting for him to accept.
So, what made me find the desire to to start tapping away? Well it was when I thought about this mother of all headaches and ear ache that I've had today. I wondered why on earth do we call something particularly bad, the mother of all.... ? It makes it sound like being a mother is a bad thing, a very big, bad thing, which for some I suppose it is, but generally isn't being a mother a good thing? Maybe it's the importance of being a mother, after all we don't say the father of all headaches, or the granny of all spots do we?
So then I started thinking about a little status an old school friend had written yesterday, "When do we stop worrying about our children?"
She got pretty much the same reply from everyone, which was, never. I know that every time I wave Sam off in his car, whether it's to work or to band practice, I worry about him until he gets home. The same applies for Max when he goes off to a party or on camping trip, he is at the front of my mind until he's safely back, cocooned in our home.
It's not that I don't trust them or their judgements but I think more that very selfishly, I can't imagine my life without them in it, corny I know, but so true.
We've had a particularly testing time this week as parents, not something that I can share on here, sorry, I know that it's annoying when people do that, but once again it has reminded me of my childhood and how things were maybe for my parents.
Both Mr Grumpy and I had a very hard time of it through secondary school, yes, the good times out weighed the bad, but the bad times were bloody awful. So that has given us a greater understanding of what it would be like should either of our precious boys suffer at the hands of others in their school life. I remember when Sam was at primary school and had come home to say a bigger lad was being pretty mean to him. The first thing we did was to ask to see his teacher to try and get to the bottom of the problem, the poor woman's face was a picture when I said, "It really needs sorting out, you have to understand that as a parent I am prepared to kill for my children" Yes, maybe a little over the top but then again was it?
Sam had a mixed school life, some very, very good friends and then some people that hung around that were complete tossers, thankfully he turned out to be a lovely, mature, kind gentleman that we're extremely proud of.
Max being more of a schmoozer and virtually horizontal in his attitude to life has sailed through school without barely a scratch, for which we are very thankful and of course, equally proud.
We always thought, heaven help the fool that is daft enough to pick on him, but of course we know bullies strike at any age.
 I know one lovely, soft natured man that ended up leaving a job that he had mostly loved, down to a bully in his workplace and it was a younger woman that did it. I think if his mother had known the full story she'd have ripped her throat out!
Anyway, my mother of all headaches has eased and I want to thank you for reading, if you did, if you didn't, I understand..... not sure my mother will though!

Fear

I read an interesting post this morning, it said "Why is it at the darkest, quietest part of the night we think of the things we hardly give a moment to during the day? Burglars, monsters etc" It set me thinking about my own fears and why I have them.
I know that at this point some of you will want to go for the obvious one, reaching for my own version of Big Lou and finding that not only is he empty but so is the bottle and it was the last one on the rack. I actually do now have a wonderful cure for this fear, it's the fact that Mr Musical now drives his own car and is able to fetch replacements.
One of the obvious and probably most common fears I have is of spiders. I really don't know why, we all know that as enormous human beings we have the power to squash them, something that I would never do. No, if I'm alone I'll calmly catch the offending arachnid and deposit outside or if Mr Grumpy's here I'll scream in my best girly scream and get him to do the dastardly deed.
Another fear is also quite common among many, flying, or actually, not flying. Quite ironic considering I was in the RAF for a while when I left school and flew quite regularly without a second thought. I think this fear has come about since I have had my lovely boys, mortality sets in and the thought of leaving them motherless terrifies me. That and all the plane crashes I've seen on TV.....
My biggest fear however is drowning in a car, sounds bizarre doesn't it? I don't mean a random amount of water bottles exploding in my car with no means of escape for me, I'm talking about my car crashing in to a river and the electric windows failing, my arms and legs not strong enough to smash the glass and slowly, I drown. The thing is, I really can't understand where this irrational fear has come from, it's not like I've ever had a close shave with being in a car drowning incident, or even know anyone that has, but there it is.
Strangely, the thing I should be frightened of, thunder storms, I actually really love and find beautiful. The actions of both my mother and one of my Aunts as a child, should have scarred me forever!
I remember coming in from school during a very large storm and where we lived in the very flat Lincolnshire fens, storms were immense. I could insert a pun here about dry dykes and never being able to find one when you need one, but I won't. Anyway, I walked in the back door to find all the curtains shut, windows open, cutlery safely in the drawer and mirrors turned back to front, with my mum and Aunty hiding behind the sofa. Mum insisted she wasn't afraid, just looking after her sister, yeah right. Apparently the curtains, mirrors and cutlery thing was to prevent lightning striking and the windows were open to allow any fire ball that may get in, to get back out again safely. Of course, it all made such sense.
So, there you have it, I've worked it out, it's not what I'm afraid of that doesn't make sense, the fact that I'm a loony thanks to those two ladies is why I have such an unusual fear, thanks!

For Max

And so the time to be dreaded is upon us, no, not Christmas but exams. At this particular moment in time, if you're a teenager, say about 15 or 16 years old, in year 11, was always year 6 in my day... then you must currently be going through hell.
I have pressures on me in a day to day basis, bills to pay, car to maintain, family to shop for and feed, but I honestly think the pressure from schools and parents on our young folk at this time far outweighs the stress of the a fore mentioned.
And it seems it doesn't stop there, as I ran into a parent, not literally, though I would have liked to, with my car, at 30mph when my brakes have failed... sorry. As I was saying, met a parent of a boy that used to go to school with Master Musical, it would seem that he is the most amazing footballer ever and has even had the audacity to turn down a contract from Peterborough United!!! How very dare he? Did my face show enough shock I wonder? I doubt it, I care not. Apparently he's a maths whizz and wants to be a stockbroker... yawn.. I'll just be glad if we get through these exams in one piece and my son makes it into 6th form. If he doesn't, it won't be the end of the world and I'll still love him as much, it will just mean some readjustments, something we're used to in life. I'm not going to add to his pressures, I've told him as long as he does the best he can then that's fine by me. Let's face it, if I look at my family and how happy and successful they are, it didn't involve 6th form or  University, just lots of bloody hard work.
In conclusion, I hope you'll accept this short blog as a little show of strength to my baby (not really a baby at all, never has been) and to let him know that we're all behind him whatever happens, good or bad, because that's what parents do, don't pressure, bully, or terrorise, they have many years ahead of them and it's easier to be on their side rather than fighting them!!!

For Jacob

Today has been one of those odd days that really has made me sit back and think. I know I have a pretty good life and that compared to some I'm very lucky, but particular things today have made me count my blessings even more.
Sometimes I moan about the ache in my shoulder, or maybe how much my feet ache after wearing high heels all day, or if we're being really serious,the times when I have a bout of eczema or maybe a migraine. Yes, that's about as serious as it gets for me, thankfully. But today I have been reminded of others that have suffered greater misfortune than me. To put it bluntly, the loss of life.
I won't pretend I remembered the date, but I do remember the day. The day I came home to countless messages on my answer machine asking me to call the mum of one of my closest friends. I had no idea why or what it could be about. All I knew, was that one week earlier I had gone on holiday leaving her happily pregnant and ready to be a first time mum and that she was fit and healthy. Sadly, the news I came home to was that she'd been in an horrendous car accident and she had lost her beautiful, baby boy. Words couldn't express how I felt then and still can't now. Unsurprisingly, I remember the train journey to see her in hospital, the traffic being awful from the station, the photos of her beautiful son, the tears we cried together, I hope I was some support to her back then.
So here we are, 15 years later and the thoughts of that day still stir great emotions within me. I have had losses of my own, as have other very close members of my family, but today was to be a day that I suffered another loss, the first of it's kind for me. I lost a student.
I won't pretend we were best buddies or that I knew her better than anyone else, there are plenty at school that will do that. No, I will remember that poor little girl as a fighter. She was barely 4 feet high, had most things in life going against her, but still she laughed, never complained and even helped support her family in their day to day needs. She was a truly amazing little girl and regardless of her religion or the lack of mine, I know that she didn't deserve to die, as neither did my friend's son 15 years ago.
And so while I sat in a room meant only for staff today, (apart from the kids that have no friends so they eat with us), remembering this little girl, my heart broke completely. One of my Autistic boys sat sobbing but wanted to be left alone to digest the news, but one of his peers, another Autistic boy, walked up to him, put his arm around him and said "it's all right mate, I'm here."
I can't remember the last time I have ever felt so moved to tears, just that small gesture that we see so rarely in anyone, let alone teenage boys.

So for anyone missing someone tonight, I hope you'll join me in remembering the good times, think of the funny things that happened, the positive thoughts you shared and most importantly, the future. It's not easy, I've cried today but if we all remember that an occasional hug or a kind word might help, we'll get through together.

Parenthood

So after a reasonably good night's sleep, I have decided to ramble again, not sure if the sleep was from writing yesterday or the lovely pink stuff I drank after a few days of abstinence. Matters not.

So today's little musings are as a result of being a parent, a particular type of parent I think. I am not an expert on this job role and have never claimed to be, I was handed the job purely through luck but will be eternally grateful. There are though some very tough decisions to be made along this road we're travelling together as a family and although people do sometimes ask me for advice, I have never been too proud to ask for help or advice from others when necessary.
I have always felt that "this age" is the hardest, of course "this age" changes day by day, just when you think you have the baby blues banished, along come the terrible two's. Then just when you're on top of those, I think Master Sporty was 15 when we managed that with him, oh no, hang on, maybe not.... I digress, then come the early school years, then starting secondary school and on it goes.

I hope that in general Mr Grumpy and I have done a reasonably good job with our boys and I'm sure it's down to the balance of our parenting skills or as it can otherwise be known, good cop, bad cop. Poor Mr Grumpy tends to get landed with the bad cop role but it seems only fair as he is very good at it! People warned us along the way that we shouldn't try to be friends with our boys, they're our children, not our friends. What a load of rubbish. They are brilliant friends and fantastic sons, it's just making sure we don't blur the boundaries, this is where I think the type of parents we are becomes relevant.

As our boys have grown in to fine young men, so of course have their desires and requirements. Knowing how much rope to give them has been the biggest test of our lives, because of course we don't want them to hang themselves. We have encouraged them in their past times, ferried them wherever necessary and hopefully tried to help them to be individuals and not follow the crowd. So when Master Sporty declared he wanted his ear piercing, naturally I told him that I was against the idea, but when he was old enough to take himself then it was up to him. I also reminded him though, that nearly every other lad that he goes to school with has their ear pierced, would it not be better to be different? His choice and I really don't mind if he does, but is that me being too laid back as a parent or should I forbid it?
Another example was brought home to us last night and has made me question my parenting skills. Master Sporty was invited to a lads night in at a friends house. Alcohol was allowed and so I let him take 4 small bottles of beer as well as some money to club in with the others for a takeaway. Of course he went with very strict instructions of my expectations of his behaviour whilst in someone else's home and that when he'd had his beer, was not to go wandering, especially near the river!
So imagine my surprise when the phone rang at some unearthly hour, to say that all the boys were being asked to leave, as the man of the house had had some of his alcohol taken. Not a problem that he was coming home but could his friend sleep over at ours as he couldn't go home.
Being the parents we are, of course we let the friend stay, what sort of person would I be, leaving a 15 year old out on the streets? Well at this point I can tell you I would have been a happier one, or certainly Mr Grumpy would have been.
It would seem that this friend is not very good at holding his beer and I don't mean with his hand. He obviously also has poor spacial awareness as he managed to completely miss the bowl next to him and vomited all over the floor.
So remember how I said I had a lovely sleep? Poor Mr Grumpy didn't, he was up until after 2am clearing up.
Also remember I said the friend couldn't go home? It would seem the reason was because his parents were asleep. Really? So were we until you rang to come home and then your orally artistic friend started decorating the bathroom and your bedroom floor!

So the question remains, are we too soft for letting our son do the things that make him happy? Or are we too soft for allowing his friends to stay over when really they could and should have gone home? I'm not sure there's an easy answer to it and I'm pretty sure there's no right or wrong answer, all I know is that if either of my boys are going to make decisions to do something, whether I like it or not, I'd rather that they were in the safety of our home, knowing that we'll always be here for them.

Be aware though, I do have a tolerance level and clearing up puke is just over that level, so don't bring your pukey friends here again, next time get him to wake up his obviously very strict parents that wouldn't have approved of him being drunk!

Enjoy your weekend people.

Spring Clean

Well hello again, I think, is anybody there? I realised that apart from my one off Summer special last year, it is actually almost a year since I last rambled.

Much has happened in the last 12 months, most of which I'm sure you know about, but for those that don't, tough, you probably wouldn't really be interested anyway!

So what prompted me to start again you may wonder? Well I'm not too sure, other than I can't seem to sleep at the moment, my mind is full of thoughts and so I figured that if I wrote some of them down I might at least start getting some kip at night!

Firstly I must update the names of the players in my life, Master Musical is now doing quite well for himself and so I guess can be upgraded to Mr Musical, that and the fact that he is actually an adult after all! Master Grumpy still has the odd blip of grumpiness but has earned the title of Master Sporty, I am very proud of all his sporting achievements, long may they continue. As for Mr Grumpy, well, a bit like the relationship Emily had with Bagpuss, he's still grumpy, saggy and a bit loose at the seams, but I love him.

So with Easter passing and all things Spring like happening, I came to wonder why we Spring clean? Let's face it, we don't only clean in Spring do we? Especially not in this house, Mr Grumpy and his OCD means that he's always attacking anything that sits still long enough, with a duster or a toothbrush and a dab of limelite or bleach!

So the Spring clean of my type began this week, clearing out my knicker drawer. I have to admit that the drawer had got to a state of fullness beyond compare, bit like my knickers at times... Anyway, it couldn't be avoided any longer, a good thinning out was needed and a morning alone seemed the perfect opportunity to attack the beast beside my bed.

As I plonked them all on the floor, I was amazed at what I found, knickers from maybe 23 years ago sat there looking at me, asking me why? Why did you buy us and never wear us? I'm beginning to wonder why myself! Some of the most, (ha, I actually did a typo there and put moist, changed it) ridiculous pieces of undergarments I have ever seen in my life! How did I ever think anything that frilly, that lacy, that loose, that tight or with that written on it would ever look good on my lower, nether regions?

The only positive thing that I did gain from the clear out, other than more drawer space, was that I'm actually still wearing the same size undies as I was all those years ago, yep, always had a big arse then!

So what had driven me to save these pieces of apparel for all of these years? Who knows, an aversion to tidying? Clinging on to the past and the memories of those undies? Something to throw on the stage when very excited at a gig? No, I think it was maybe the fear of them being discovered in my wheelie bin and being put on a teddy that you see pinned to the front of the bin lorry, a big sign on the front saying, "Thanks Lady at Number 8!"

Happy Friday everybody!

A Special Day

Well I'm back, I'm not sure for how long because to be honest I'm not convinced many people have time or the inclination to listen to my ramblings these days. However, in honour of a dear friend and a very special day ahead, I thought I would make the time to gabble to any of you that may be interested.

I have prewarned my friend that I may be writing about her today and she didn't object, so I'm hoping that she won't mind if I tell a few little bits of her past. I have known Kate since I moved to Peterborough at the age of eleven and we spent many happy times together as we wandered our way through secondary school.

There was quite a gang of us back then, though we seemed to chop and change who we hung around with, it was always within the same group. Kate was always the pretty and popular girl in our year at school, along with a couple of others, Vicki and Denyse. I was just a quiet, timid, little mouse that trailed around in their wake, oh how age has changed me! Most mornings I would walk to Kate's and we would then walk on to school together, the benefits of being friends with such a popular young girl were bountiful, not least all the good looking boys that wanted to be her boyfriend.

Kate had one fairly serious boyfriend during our latter school years and I for one was pretty certain that they'd end up being married, of course my naive way of thinking was proven to be wrong, though while she was with him I got to snog the face off his best mate, thanks Kate!
Of course we all had other boys that we would dream of being with but knew that they were just outside of our reach. One boy in particular was Andy, he was a bit of a lad, didn't attend our school full time, but when he did you could feel the passion oozing from all the girls, hoping that he may look at them and allow them some of his time.

All too soon, we reached the age of sixteen and as usually happens we drifted in our separate directions. Kate went of to college, Vicki was working for a travel company and getting to see the world and I went off in to the RAF. Over the years I would hear tales of what was happening in Kate's life and I would occasionally bump in to her on nights out in town. She hadn't changed, still as pretty as ever, but was now a mum to two lovely children but with a man that quite obviously didn't realise how lucky he was to have her.

More years passed and with the arrival of the wonderful Facebook, Kate and I managed to get back in touch and started meeting up for coffee. Much grass was chewed at these meets and on one particular occasion she told me that she's been dragged, kicking and screaming in to town with work colleagues on a grab a grandad night. As she'd stood surveying the sea of grey haired fellows, a certain man, considerably younger and more handsome than the others caught her eye. She knew she recognised him and from the way he looked at her, could tell he recognised her too. They started chatting to each other and guess who it was? Yes, it was the god like Adonis, Andy, from our youth, the one that all the girls wanted and here he was chatting to her!

Let's fast forward a couple of years and now find ourselves on a sunny Saturday in September. At last Kate has bagged her man, the man of all our childhood dreams and after forty something years today will no longer be Miss but will rightfully be called Mrs Ferris.

I'm also happy to say that again thanks to the powerful Facebook, Vicki is also back in our lives and tonight I look forward to updating the photos from our school leaver's disco, there was no such thing as a prom in England back then.

Good luck Kate and Andy, you both deserve to be happy.