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Thursday, 18 November 2010

Dear So and So

I was delighted to discover the Dear So and So Letters recently thanks to Kat at 3bedroombungalow.blogspot.com via the always talented and lovely HotCrossMum.  I’m hooked and have been looking for them on blogs across the globe for weeks now.

Here’s my contribution.  It was so fun and quite therapeutic; I highly recommend the exercise to anyone really.


**
Dear Handyperson of Non Specific Gender,

Do I really look that stupid?

If that’s how much money can be made from fixing the side panel of a bath, then I’m in the wrong business.

I’ll keep shopping around thanks.

Yours with my arms folded because you keep looking at my boobs,

Missus.

**

Dear Government,

I am very disappointed in you.

Get onto the naughty step for a time out. 

One minute for each euro you’ve wasted.  That should keep you out of the way for long enough to stop you screwing things up any further.

Also, leave the elderly and the young alone you big bully.

Yours on the verge,

An Irish Citizen.

**

Dear Children,

Just because I say no to 95% of your requests does not make me a bad Mummy. 

Some day you will appreciate the below:

1. Chocolate does not a good breakfast make.
2. Cutting your own hair is always a bad idea.
3. Just because someone else has it doesn’t mean you have to have it too.
4. Taking out the paddling pool in November didn’t make it any warmer did it?
5. Saying why very loudly to every answer I give you could lead to mother shut down.
6. Swear words stop being funny very quickly.
7. Be nicer to your siblings, they will be the longest relationship of your life.
8. School is a great idea, for both of us.
9. I did actually exist before I brought you into the world.
10. Boring is a seriously over used word in our house.
11. It is not fun for me when you wait until after I change your nappy to do a poo.
12. It is actually great to have your cheeks kissed and be told how adorable you are, can I at least do it when no else is looking?
13. Lists are too a good idea, I make them because they help me remember stuff, not because I’m old.

Yours bedraggled,

Mummy.

**

Dear Marks & Spencer,

Words cannot express the gratitude I feel for you selling the most delicious dark chocolate covered ginger biscuits ever.

Yours greedily,

Random Customer.

**

Dear Husband,

If you touch my dark chocolate covered ginger biscuits, I will unleash the hounds.

Before you ask, no, that is not a euphemism.

Yours,

The Wife.

**

Dear Children,

I realise this is the second letter you’re getting from me, but you are pushing it.

Stop wrestling!

Stop it!

Now!

Right Now!

Don’t make me come over there!

Yours infuriated,

Mother.

**

To read some more letters, look at Kats blog on http://3bedroombungalow.blogspot.com/

Friday, 12 November 2010

First Steps

This week I get to say something I’ve wanted to say for a long time. 
My son can walk. 

I rang my husband and said “He walked!” I rang my mother to say “My little boy is walking”, I’ve told people in the school yard, at the supermarket, via email, text and Twitter.  Anyone who stands still long enough will hear me say that my son can walk.

Some of them look at me like I’m a little mad; he’s not the only child in the world to start walking late after all.  Those closest to us know though, that it hasn’t been all that simple for him and how close we came to missing the window of opportunity that allowed him to get the right treatment and most importantly – get it in time.

I was so proud of him when he walked, I cried and couldn’t stop.  I confused our daughter who thought something was wrong.  It’s difficult to explain happy crying to a five year old.  She really didn’t see what the big deal was, as she said, we did tell her last year he would eventually catch up.  But she did let him use his new ability to steal a pancake off her plate.

She has been a by the book child from the beginning.  Good pregnancy, even a good labour and birth, well relatively speaking.  There were no problems health wise, she has grown at the right rate, and has always been healthy, balanced and well.  We’re so lucky.

Our son was different, I struggled through a difficult pregnancy and his birth was traumatic.  It was then that the problems really started.  He didn’t have one major problem; there were a number of little ones.  Together though, they caused us a lot of sleepless nights and heartache.

He has got over each thing one at a time, but the final and longest hurdle has been walking.  Emotionally for his Dad and me, that’s been the toughest.  When he went out in the world to play with kids his own age, the crushing realisation of just how difficult it could be for him was a bitter pill to swallow. 

That was when I realised that I didn’t want my little boy to be perfect, successful or blow everyone else away at all.

I just wanted him to be normal. 

It wasn’t just that I wanted his legs and feet to grow or his hips to correct themselves.  What I wanted most was for him to be able to do things like join in games at his play group without being trod on.  That said, I don’t doubt for one second that he thoroughly enjoyed the special attention he got from all the little nurturing girls.  Even after he picked them off one by one with plastic balls while they were playing statues.

There are countless parents out there dealing with the daily struggles of their children who aren't by the book kids.  They are amazing people those parents.  Ordinary everyday selfless people and I’m proud to know some of them.  Why some children have it so much tougher than others I will never understand, but I do understand one very important thing.  Being different doesn’t make one child lesser than another.

There he goes; walking to the kitchen dresser looking for treasures he’s certain exist in those high drawers.  That’s my boy.

Friday, 5 November 2010

And Another Thing

Right, brace yourselves, today I’m having a moan and it’s a doozy.  If you’re looking for something all perky and sweet, you may as well stop reading because today, I’m not your woman. 

I’m in a bad mood. I feel grouchy and my right nostril has been itching since I skipped breakfast.  My husband would say that means there’s a fight coming my way.  Sounds good right now, wouldn’t mind smacking the face off someone and I know just who too. 

Come on, we’ve all got one.  That super annoying pain in the backside who rubs you up the wrong way, especially when everyone else says she’s sooooo nice.  Sure she is - for psychopathic Stepford Wife.  She says things like “Really, you’re not 40? Oh I thought I missed that birthday”.  I would call her a silly cow but that wouldn't be nice to our bovine friends.

Aaaagggghhhh! Is that how you type the sound of a scream?  Not very satisfying is it.  If I were to scream today, its ferocity would probably break a window.  And to top it all, I forgot to put out the glass bin for the recycling van twice in a row and now have non recycler’s guilt.  Frick!

Life is hard.  I know that’s not news to anyone, but every time I think I’ve got it figured out, some crappy awful thing happens to someone who didn’t deserve it and I feel like I want to scream at the world.

I’ve watched the news closely all week and it really is shocking.  I don’t think there has been one positive story since the Chilean miners were freed.  What is wrong with us?  We’ve got a really wonderful world to live in, so why are we ruining it?

My realisation that I have no control over the world around me only mattered for the first time when I became a parent and it sucks lemons.

I for one am standing up for our world and I'm going to try harder.  I’m going to try to be a better person.  I’m going to recycle and re use more. Ok, ok, I’ll go fish the jam jar out of the wrong bin.  I’m going to be responsible for myself and my actions.  Basically I've got to be what a grown up should be and teach my children by example. 

I’m going to be nicer to people who deserve it and I’m going to behave like the ones who don’t just don’t exist in my world anymore.  That may not sound very charitable but frankly my dears, I don’t give a damn.  There comes a point in all of our lives when we learn right from wrong, so if you consciously don’t live your life doing what’s right and don't at least try to be a good and decent human being, you’re not worth me wasting my time on.

Right, don’t know about you, but I feel a lot better.

Live good lives people – onward and upward.

Rant complete.
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