tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16096230218282771112024-03-13T10:03:24.252+00:00Rebel MotherA lighthearted blog on family life trying to cope with three kids, one on the Autistic Spectrum and trying to stay sane. I used to be wild.Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-30454323343566859072010-01-11T13:00:00.137+00:002010-01-11T14:30:19.484+00:00A Shining Light<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKHZsFjXiUXop73J9YzsSDui9RGR8SGje7daHjk5uvG-wXayOo-_Qp7pAAU5uTPzdG2TS2MGO5WXswB8rJqHbiFHnDyX_c1p2VROnBfY0ZtPL2x8AYkEcdNprlBUqoJtB6jelw3leMJE/s1600-h/2010.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 216px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425475148024829970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKHZsFjXiUXop73J9YzsSDui9RGR8SGje7daHjk5uvG-wXayOo-_Qp7pAAU5uTPzdG2TS2MGO5WXswB8rJqHbiFHnDyX_c1p2VROnBfY0ZtPL2x8AYkEcdNprlBUqoJtB6jelw3leMJE/s400/2010.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Happy New Year everyone!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and brought the New Year in, in style!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I think I blinked and missed a decade it went so fast.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Apologies for being away for so long, but I've been a bit of misery lately and thought it best to stay away. <em>(Wouldn't want to be the bearer of miserable tidings, sorrow and woe!)</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I also thought I had 'turned a corner' after my last post concerning a certain 'Slapper' and my Husband. But it was a false inclination and instead I plummeted headfirst into a deep abyss. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Here's a quick run-down our jolly Christmas and New Year!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">The Silent Assassin</span></strong> </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">A few days before Christmas, I was buggering about in the kitchen fixing a salad for dinner. I heard my Husband laughing at something on the telly in the other room. I had been brooding on that blasted email and hearing him sound so jovial and happy while I was so miserable, caused my self-control to snap and my temper to flare.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I picked up the salad bowl and flung it at the kitchen wall. It shattered all over the floor. Hubby came rushing in, thinking it was an accident and soon realised it wasn't when a heavy mixing bowl whizzed past his head and smashed into the kitchen door. This was quickly followed by a mug, a wire rack and a saucepan.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He is quite a good 'dodger', although I could be a lousy shot.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He scarpered out of the kitchen, whilst I flew out the back door and grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be a garden spade.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The shed was the first unlucky recipient of the spade, with a good few gashes taken out of it, the garage door also got a good smacking and now wont close properly and needs a couple of coats of paint, but the BBQ got the worst of it. It lay pitifully on the ground smashed to pieces. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh...... how I wished it was her. And he was bloody lucky it wasn't him!!!!!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I was in a 'murderous' rage. I have never been so angry. But the scary bit was that not once did I yell or scream or shout. It was like a whirlwind of destruction. Like a Silent Assassin. But I'm only human. Even machines have breakdowns.</span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">Frostbite</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">A couple of nights later, I ran away from home. I didn't go very far or for very long because it was bloody freezing, but it was long enough for Olly to run into Liam's room and demand 'What have you done with Mum?'</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It also warranted some concerned phone calls from my Husband, which I didn't bother answering. I was finally 'driven' home, by reoccurring thoughts of frostbite.</span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">Vino</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother came down for Christmas and with her came the other 'Silent Assassin'. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The onslaught of those dreadful Panic Attacks, which were ghastly. They creep up on you when you are least aware of them and usually when your stressed out. I had three attacks a day all over the Christmas period. Funnily enough, when Mother finally left, they disappeared! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Obviously I cannot cope with the added pressure of irresponsible parents.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother would start on the Vino at midday which would really annoy me. I know its Christmas, but I don't see why I should put up with a pissed mother. Its disgusting. </span></div><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></strong></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">Battered Prawn Crumb</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">My other parent, Father, rang 3 times Christmas Day. Each phone call was more agitated than the last, so on Boxing Day I drove that 200 mile round journey to see him, with Mother and Amber in tow.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">A frightful journey, but Dad was pleased to see us. We took him to a Harvester or some equivalent, where he threw a complete tantrum at me in front of loads of people over a cigarette! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He wanted his cigarette NOW, but he has to be escorted everywhere he goes. I wanted to eat something first, because I hadn't eaten in days. So we had a massive row. I had one chip and went outside with him whilst Mother and Amber ate their meal in peace. <em>(Lucky them).</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Father then started to choke on a battered prawn crumb that had got caught in his throat! I had to pat/rub his back and get sips of water down his throat to dislodge it, in case he choked to death. He was still clinging to his ciggy. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">The Light of My Life</span></strong><br /></span><br />Through out all of this crap I was still running Olly to and from the Theatre Royal in Brighton, where his play, Peter Pan was showing. He played 'Spud', a Lost Boy.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Together with Hubby, Mother, Amber and Liam we went to watch his performance on Sunday 27th December.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It was like all my Christmas' and birthdays rolled into one. A shining light on a dull and dark murky world that glitters momentarily. But a light that is so strong, so bright, that it dazzles you and you never forget its beauty, no matter how brief it was. <em>(An hour and a half).</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Never, have I been more proud of my son. To see Olly on that stage, <strong>happy</strong>, enjoying himself, doing everything that he loves, made my heart surge with pride, love and joy. He made my Christmas. He made my year. He lit up my life and saw that it was worth every moment of excruciating pain for this moment of exquisite joy. A shining light. A ray of hope.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Here's a sneaky piccy of the cast. I may have to whip it off in case it infringes some publication rights, but for the moment here it is:<br /></span><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 339px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425469258127649234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AO60QkMaW5_WLzMwD7rGGnHxky6LygC6CfPqgY86XkCxtNWT52MKx8ysdcj_cYuLQBg76bTR3f8rfpniXgb32SbLdXZ1H9qPEs7D2qhRON-fxBaQx8x3OgE-BbR0UqVJCSH6yWwl-qM/s400/Sam+-+Peter+Pan.jpg" /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Olly is the tall boy, right in the centre with the dark hair and a hat on. He is looking towards the camera and SMILING!!!!!<br /><br /></span><p><span style="font-family:arial;">However, the last performance was on the 3rd Jan and Olly was back to school on the 4th. I got a phone call that day about 1pm saying Olly was being suspended from school for one day due to fighting with other boys and telling a teacher to F*** off!!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh well, you cant win them all can you?</span></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-89728931256312293302009-12-18T08:19:00.031+00:002009-12-18T09:12:33.254+00:00Thank You<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYTAlqRkX_EWn3vDNR5vshxeRylVE8eIsUFnn7e4hZleaqECfIyTkcIvyn1lwASLsfdhW6ezSa7axSzq3DU-cfHrv-ooPaHFvp7XTnNT4Mkoq4DuNQ_ogGMhC5WL7MFY8LJvbIRIcnCY/s1600-h/Thank+you.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 114px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 91px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416501156754203762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYTAlqRkX_EWn3vDNR5vshxeRylVE8eIsUFnn7e4hZleaqECfIyTkcIvyn1lwASLsfdhW6ezSa7axSzq3DU-cfHrv-ooPaHFvp7XTnNT4Mkoq4DuNQ_ogGMhC5WL7MFY8LJvbIRIcnCY/s400/Thank+you.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60LfkWU6Y6LiBJ1NTYRa7BX8I2t7Ltf7b3yYkP0sVQXTm5tuxS2L0DDMZloe8xO0kWe06FwH4n2kvq2hoYbypoX-J2HBD7FgKYJnyS6u7_5KNhE486xME0yRxATL6v52Bb5YTSp3a8Nw/s1600-h/Thank+you.jpg"></a></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I just wanted to say a massive Thank You to all you guys who offered so much support and advice during these recent dark days. I really dont know what I would have done without you all.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I have trawled through phone records, bank records, emails, websites, chat forums etc, going back over the last year and turned this house upside looking for more evidence, (rather obsessively actually!), however I have found none. I can only assume that it was just these two emails were the only form of recent communication.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I have emailed her back, again, with a warning that if she so much as attempts to make any further communication to my husband, ever, 'I'll hang her out to dry'.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">As for him, although still pleading his innocence, he is going to be in the dog-house for the forseeable future. I'm still not sure where my future lies, but for now, it is time to move on out of this dark, nasty place and get on with life.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I have taken my 'eye off the ball'. I have missed my blogging chums, reality mates, my kids and my family. The thing that annoys me the most, is that during all this I finally received my licence through, so I can start my own practice. Unknowingly, I ignored my licence and flung it under a pile of crap. It ended up with tea stains all over it!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">So, here's to moving on, getting focused and getting back on track. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;">THANK YOU FOR BEING THERE. YOU ARE JUST FABULOUS.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-85892340150365805282009-12-06T22:15:00.001+00:002009-12-06T22:30:52.008+00:00Named and Shamed<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><em><span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00;font-family:Arial;" ></span></em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4fTNkf6n-0h3Y3xgDdQWjRWwGSj3utQBOC2tTCZzpbSXVk90T6lc9Y8w7r5NFchlRxn1mnB9fRHS-pVVzVOELIpDTVg8wHROkjpVibynagTKzWrjhAfdyzgaRhtHLCt52mlCEX0wYKY/s1600-h/Cheaters.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412203461032192386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4fTNkf6n-0h3Y3xgDdQWjRWwGSj3utQBOC2tTCZzpbSXVk90T6lc9Y8w7r5NFchlRxn1mnB9fRHS-pVVzVOELIpDTVg8wHROkjpVibynagTKzWrjhAfdyzgaRhtHLCt52mlCEX0wYKY/s320/Cheaters.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">This is why I have been such a shit blogger lately.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">About a month ago I was looking at my husband's work rota and noticed that he had a trip with a certain woman, who has caused me much anguish in the past. Unfortunately, I didn't notice the name until he had actually completed his trip.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I confronted him about it when he came home and he said that when he saw her he 'shit himself' when he realised he would be working with her. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I threw a complete hissy fit, because he had ample time to ring me and tell me, or send me a text or just be upfront about it. But he didn't. (He's a Scorpio - very secretive!).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After some advise from my friends, I let it go, although, I wasn't sure if anything had happened and I had no evidence to assume the worse.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">However, I had good reason to be suspicious because this certain woman and my husband had an affair 7 years ago. Although it was a very difficult time in our marriage, we got through it, and I believe, made our marriage stronger. But forgiving is easier than forgetting. No-one forgets.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">A week ago, I logged on to his email by chance and found an email from her to him and attached to it was an email he had sent her first! The crafty bugger had deleted all his 'sent' emails.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The gist of it was they were going to meet up on 'Sat 5th December at 6ish for a coffee'. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I rang him in Hong Kong and let rip a torrent of abuse, including that our marriage was over. I then sent them both an extremely scathing email telling them exactly what I thought of them.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">When he returned, we talked/shouted/screamed for five days. I have not been in my right mind because here are the things that happened over these days.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">1. <em>In a spate of fury I attacked my husband and punched him like a boxer punches a punch-bag. Relentlessly. Being 6ft and built like a rugby player, he took every punch I gave him.</em></span></div><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">2. <em>I asked my son Liam, if he could 'score some draw' (WTF!!!!!) Luckily Liam laughed at me, saying it would 'addle' my brain. (Sometimes he assumes the role of a parent. I can only hang my head in shame at this one).</em></span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">3. <em>I am unable to eat any food. It all tastes like cardboard to me and hence I have lost about 10lbs in a week. Its called the Rebel Diet of Diet Coke and Cigarettes!</em></span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">4. <em>As you know I don't drink, but I got a bottle of vodka mixed it with Valium and sleeping pills and got shit faced. I then proceeded to 'Tiffin' my husband out of his brain.</em></span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>(What that was about I don't know. Is it like a cat, spraying your territory? It is a primitive and primeval thing that I have yet to decipher....).<br /></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">5. <em>I have been checking emails, phones, all forms of communication and I don't like this person I have turned into. It is vile. I will not live this life. </em></span></p><span style="font-family:arial;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>6. I keep forgetting things. I thought I put the lamb in the oven, only to discover it had been sitting on the side for TWO hours. </em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>7. I have missed 3 of Amber's dance classes, her 'watching week' and her Christmas Carol concert.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>8. Olly has missed 5 days of school due to his performance in Peter Pan, but I keep forgetting to call the school. They keep texting me asking where he is.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I am a complete mess.<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><p></span><span style="font-family:arial;">My husband's side to all of this is that on the last leg of this trip this 'slapper' gave him some sob story that after he had left her, she got in with a bloke who used to beat her. My husband felt sorry for her and he felt it was his fault that she had got in with a nasty fella and that her life had turned out so shit.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">I told my Husband that my life was shit! I have a father I have to look after, a child with Asperger's and a husband that cant keep it in his pants. If you start having empathy and sympathy for the 'other woman', then it is time to get out of a marriage. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">I told him that if he wanted to be with this woman then he should just go, I will not stay in a marriage for the sake of it. He said he had no intentions of going anywhere. I told him he 'cannot have his cake and eat it'.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">I asked him for a divorce and he refused. He said that he had been a 'prick' and that he had only emailed her to meet for a coffee to help cheer her up, because she was so down! (They both had a trip on the 5th, so they could would be in the same office for about an hour from 6-7). I said, if you start having coffee with a childless spinster of 40 it is hardly going to be left as a coffee! How thick are you???</span></p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">I only have his word that nothing has happened on that trip or since that trip, and quite frankly that's worth piss all. Although having read back the emails a thousand times, it sounds like nothing happened and this appears to be the only form of communication. But who the hell knows!</span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">I feel like running away and letting them all get on with it. I will not stay in a loveless marriage for the sake of it. My marriage is in tatters and I'm not sure it is worth saving. I told my husband that he can continue to live here, (apart from the fact I will not kill myself from exhaustion looking after his kids, and I need the mortgage paid), but that I now wish to be free to find someone else. </span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;">He told me that he loved me more than life itself, that he wanted to grow old with me and spend the rest of our lives together. He said he was stupid to email her. I told him that he <strong>was</strong> the love of my life, but he has broken my heart again and broken the trust. I told him that I didn't love him anymore and I doubted if I would ever love or trust him again. </span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">I feel so empty. </span></p><span style="font-family:arial;">My husband did not go and meet her yesterday, he was with me at 6pm. He then drove to work and waited outside in the freezing cold and talked on the phone to me for 35 minutes until he had to go check in at 7.45pm. </span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">I wonder if this could be a mid-life crisis? He turned fifty a month ago, his wife is now qualified and maybe he felt surplus to requirements of the family......the attentions of another woman is very flattering and perhaps a boost to his ego.</span></p><span style="font-family:arial;">What I cannot forgive though is the humiliation that I feel. </span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">It is making a mockery of marriage and everything a wife stands for; for being a soul-mate and mother to his children. Humiliating her and ridiculing her position within the family and making it worthless is absolutely diabolical. She knew he was married with kids and it makes me sick. They are both to blame. </span></p><span style="font-family:arial;">However, the wife is a wife for a reason. She is not the mistress, nor the bit on the side, nor the tart he is bonking. The wife is his equal. She is the hub of the family and her strength is the glue to the family. She keeps the kids fed, watered, clothed, washed and educated. She goes on courses to understand her disabled child, she organises everything, she looks after her husband, looks pretty for him, listens to him moaning, becomes his best friend. Looks after her parents, his parents and as if that isn't enough, she'll probably go out to work and bring home the 'bacon' as well!</span><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">To this end, I will name you and shame you, because I am worth so much more than you......</span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Arial;">Patsy Ryan.</span></p><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Be content in knowing that if you get my husband it is because I no longer want him.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">You are no match for me, I'll crucify you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-14523752723486875442009-12-05T18:15:00.020+00:002009-12-05T18:38:14.764+00:00Rebel Mother<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW48oo8a5bL8hQsyUt0AaiIO79BFppNuZLORt1bIefMDi81pNOlRrXPMLNQuLdIpwuxYnUQai68DHO5p4bCUpY6dLmT8JXFtmOkvl05xuHrVABK6HQGo2wboIohd5i3lpqFAf5jmMjKYg/s1600-h/rebelheart3.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411819589439792210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW48oo8a5bL8hQsyUt0AaiIO79BFppNuZLORt1bIefMDi81pNOlRrXPMLNQuLdIpwuxYnUQai68DHO5p4bCUpY6dLmT8JXFtmOkvl05xuHrVABK6HQGo2wboIohd5i3lpqFAf5jmMjKYg/s320/rebelheart3.bmp" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Dear readers,</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I just wanted to say a massive thank you to all those who read and comment on my blog. It is very much appreciated and although I am sometimes held hostage by whatever forces control me in Reality, I always love to hear from you.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">You may have noticed I've gone 'Gothic'. I thought it might be better to read. Sometimes the sun shines on my computer (not in the last two weeks, with this crappy weather) and I found it difficult to read, but hopefully it will be better now.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I've also changed title of my blog. It is now called Rebel Mother, instead of Another Day in The Madhouse, but the URL (or whatever it is) is still the same. Rebelmother.blogspot.com. Just the blog title has changed. (There are too many similar blogs, so I thought I would change it, otherwise it just gets confusing).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;">I am having a shit time at the moment, but the tantrums and tears have stopped and just good old fashioned fury has replaced it. I shall stick a post on about it. You may find it interesting, its about Infidelity!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But I hope to visiting all your blogs very soon and catch up on all the news. I've missed you all very much. Forgive me for being such a shit blogger.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">With much love....</span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">RMxx</span></p><p><br /> </p>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-12201960973127148712009-11-27T09:30:00.011+00:002009-11-27T09:53:09.881+00:00Bright Idea<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtB5_bNC708v-24bTrRzvyoR1Rj_Q4eCsGPGR5HeXCYvJeqDtICj1tcGfP9iATp3Yx727efWSzeQw6uQ7iAnZBs5mE7Ga4BKhCknpxEzacTLWJjaas5NwpyMc8q2EjT1t8pGSTonJ3qtY/s1600/Bright+Idea.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408716811411502498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtB5_bNC708v-24bTrRzvyoR1Rj_Q4eCsGPGR5HeXCYvJeqDtICj1tcGfP9iATp3Yx727efWSzeQw6uQ7iAnZBs5mE7Ga4BKhCknpxEzacTLWJjaas5NwpyMc8q2EjT1t8pGSTonJ3qtY/s320/Bright+Idea.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">God! What a crappy day yesterday was.......I feel as miserable as this relentless rain we've been subjected to. Eight days of drizzle......EIGHT, with intermittent fleeting intervals of sun, hail and gale force winds.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I had the bright idea of doing a bit of Christmas shopping....physically....not virtually....I also had another bright idea of taking the bus, because it is bound to be more convenient and green etc, etc, etc.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I am a FOOL!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">And this is why.....</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">1. All Bus stops are all 'out of order' in Brighton's City Centre <em>(Why? </em><em>Just to inconvenience shoppers and bugger up your day). </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">2. I was dropped off about a mile away and had to drudge back to the shops up a really steep hill in a bad temper.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">3. Went into a book shop and set off all the alarms. I was interrogated like a common criminal. After much indignant yelling I was let go.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">4. After sticking up my nose, I stomped out of the shop and spent what little money I had in other shops. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">5. Finally trudged back to the bus stop, loaded down with shopping bags.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">6. Where's the frigging bus stop gone? </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">7. Bus stop had moved half a mile up the road. Dragged feet and bags to make-shift bus stop, which was unfortunately outside a shop that was being renovated. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">8. Builder's van pulls up and burly inconsiderate white van driver tells everyone in the make-shift bus queue to move along as they were clearing out the shop. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">9. I grumbled loudly whilst complying. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">10. My ears where then viciously assaulted by lumps of concrete being slung into back of the van.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">11. Lost my temper completely and yelled at the builders calling them a 'bunch of 'fu**ing to**ers'. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">12. The builders laughed.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">13. Stomped off down the road, juggling bags and lit a ciggy.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">14. Then torrential rain poured down. My soggy ciggy was thrown to the floor unsmoked. My paper Primark bag got so drenched it disintegrated, spilling the contents of my shopping all over the pavement.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">15. No b'stard bothered to help me. They just stood and stared whilst the builders continued to laugh.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">16. When the bus finally came, I soaked to my knickers. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">17. The bus driver was an aspiring rally driver and when my bus stop came into sight, he took the corner at about 50 miles an hour and sent me sprawling across two empty seats. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">18. My shopping went flying again and I held everybody up from getting off the bus trying to gather them up.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">19. This attracted the attention of some madman/tramp on the bus who then waffled on in an incoherent drunken manner about bad bus drivers.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">20. Having shaken off the tramp, finally arrived home. I was trying to make a cup of tea when I tripped over my Hubby's laptop lead which was trailing around the kitchen. I broke the lead and almost broke my sodding neck!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Hubby's answer to this day of hell was 'Do you have any more Bright Ideas?'</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-13824494010441777412009-11-23T09:30:00.010+00:002009-11-23T10:47:50.257+00:00Senior Moments<span style="font-family:arial;">Apparently, after twenty-three years of nagging my eldest son Liam on 'Cleanliness is next to Godliness', I achieved absolutely nothing.</span><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">This is the state of his bin......</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407230596506848706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedYHp-WrsEtXpnBH0Vf-z1rCy-hgAmPf1h8fXK8l-Q_gEKYr8KbTUcm7YxUnnCd6xBFAQNtfeDblOL47dmF0_B0AYHsILQsRj80A3fu29GPNLUgzRX0zI7JCCfwPXUi7ssOVmuzPF7J8/s320/Senior+Moment+001.jpg" /></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">.....after just ONE day!!!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Needless to say, I am now charging him for services rendered.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Clearly, just nagging does not do the job, I must develop a certain 'lashing' to my tongue in order to be heard.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">In other news, Hubby turned the huge '50' the other week and I think its effecting his brain.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407230204835471234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi07vuVtJ_dkRUS2D4ZiO-5YunhiuOJJh_TFYmr1Kuc4B2Nfl-2thhF4hyOh7gGmwxp1vKMl2NyFFa7BrBP6rqH6XIo78BkSesorhS0bn36felaWVQiVfgUvBji_nd-j2R7nw9b1KUQ1Q/s320/Senior+Moment+002.jpg" /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He seems to be more absent minded than usual, but more disturbingly when he is making dinner, we seem to be enjoying the delights of 'mushed up' food more frequently, such as mashed potatoes and mashed swede and carrots, mashed sausages.......everything is mashed. Unless its soup.....!<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It is resembling 'baby food'.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I should have seen this coming. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">When I make dinner he always mixes his food up and crunches it down. His eating habits remind me of my old Grandad, who used to mash his food up, because he had false teeth at thirty.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Whats wrong with him? He's still got his own teeth!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">More worryingly, he was supposed to go on a course this weekend and forgot to set his alarm, so at 9am Sunday morning I was rudely awoken by foul-mouthed rants because he missed his call. This means his whole rota will now change from now until Christmas. (We had to wait months for that Christmas rota to come through).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Ole muggins here is going to have to split herself in two in order to pick up all the kids at the same time from different locations.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Its like being married to an old man.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Visions of catheter's and pee bottles are wafting around my head......food blenders and zimmer frames, false teeth floating in water......Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Lets just hope it a passing senior moment.......</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-14709388807755688352009-11-19T14:30:00.006+00:002009-11-19T14:57:44.789+00:00Stress Rehearsals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-IJZ5yqS_KgC66i0Xx9KX7rw4Nnw4hbhyIgJTZKcJLosfHeY3RhNisZceptR4LhfyU7rQMLeA2JFyzFXnG2dVe6s29j-aucZ0SWz6aYWEn4Xrb3GsiS45pKrpDFuA6j86eIVPYKG9Rk/s1600/Stress2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-IJZ5yqS_KgC66i0Xx9KX7rw4Nnw4hbhyIgJTZKcJLosfHeY3RhNisZceptR4LhfyU7rQMLeA2JFyzFXnG2dVe6s29j-aucZ0SWz6aYWEn4Xrb3GsiS45pKrpDFuA6j86eIVPYKG9Rk/s320/Stress2.jpg" yr="true" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh dear..... stress, stress, stress........</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sure I'll drop dead of a heart attack soon. My stress levels are soaring to an inordinate proportion as I am running around like a blue-arsed fly.</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(And where the frig has my spell check gone? I have uploaded this new posting thing from blogger, but there is no spell check!)</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It also seems that life in general has shifted into a higher gear as we're now propelling towards Christmas at a hideous speed...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You may remember I told you that Olly was appearing in </span><a href="http://www.ambassadortickets.com/925/664/Brighton/Theatre-Royal-Brighton/Peter-Pan---Brighton"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Peter Pan at Brightons Theatre Royal</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(<em>This is also sponsored by Robinsons in conjunction with Put on a Panto. You may have read about it on other blogs such as <a href="http://www.bringingupcharlie.co.uk/2009/11/oh-yes-it-is.html">Bringing up Charlie</a>, <a href="http://www.jobeaufoix.com/2009/11/16/get-up-close-and-personal-with-widow-twanky/">Jo Beaufoix</a> and <a href="http://www.amodernmother.com/2009/11/robinson-put-on-a-panto-competition.html#more">A Modern Mother</a>).</em></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxTaI4rydq31y2JJrWOmxhHMDVoO39pJjVNlOwcgaymFRlm7gt_-C5m7Dzx_S0v9Bd8v7BnqZy3hjakDv4NaiZo4dpvqgEqYeS1Kc20RSUZXL7Zd3dKrxUhM5RJGUDpbAI41EHLeR_-Y/s1600/panto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkxTaI4rydq31y2JJrWOmxhHMDVoO39pJjVNlOwcgaymFRlm7gt_-C5m7Dzx_S0v9Bd8v7BnqZy3hjakDv4NaiZo4dpvqgEqYeS1Kc20RSUZXL7Zd3dKrxUhM5RJGUDpbAI41EHLeR_-Y/s320/panto.jpg" yr="true" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, rehearsals have begun this week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SIX days a week he has to rehearse. Mon-Fri after school and Saturday all day. So that means a lot of extra running around and organising and no time for homework - which Olly is estatic about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We finally found his school bag, which he left on a bus. It was at the buses Lost Property. However he has now managed to loose his coat and bleeding rugby boots that cost me an arm and a leg!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Olly has also managed to get a detention after school for fighting. Idiot boy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to ring the school and beg them to change the detention as it overlapped with the rehearsals of the play. They conseeded to give him 2 half hour detentions instead of one, one hour detention. That gives me enough time to pick him up, shove food down his neck, get him changed and drop him and another kid off at rehearsals.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have managed to enlist the help of another mum, who's stress levels are non-existent. She has a lovely calming effect. <em>Shame she cant bottle that, she'd make a fortune.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday I had a phone call from Olly saying that a teacher had dropped dead and that they were shutting the school!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Luckily the poor chap didnt drop dead in a lesson, but everyone was so upset they sent 1500 kids home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shocking innit? Never heard of that before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wouldnt have minded if a couple of my gruesome teachers had popped their clogs, when I was at school. Mainly 'Giller the Killer', my hockey teacher. Nasty bit of work she was, used to swing her hockey stick at us in a very menacing way and aim the hockey ball at your head. You learned how to dodge though. And our horrible typing teacher, who used to rap your knuckles with a ruler if we weren't typing fast enough. (I stuck gum all over her chair, which ended up on her clothes.......I have no regrets).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Better go, time to run round like a headless chicken again.......xx</span><br />
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<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh where, oh where is my sodding spell</span> check?</em>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-5285665213347422642009-11-15T16:30:00.004+00:002009-11-15T16:49:54.355+00:00Blogland OscarsWell, I hope you've got all day, because I've got about a million awards to give away. They're coming out my ears! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I wish it was money coming out of my ears.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyway, off we go.<br />
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My first award was given to me by the lovely Rosiero at <a href="http://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/">Alcoholic Daze</a>. She is a little angel.<br />
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These are the rules:<br />
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1. Thank the person who gave this to you. <em>Thank you my darlin'</em><br />
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2. Copy the logo and place it in your blog. <em>Done</em><br />
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3. Link the person who nominated you. <em>Also done.</em><br />
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4. Name 7 things about yourself that no one would really know. <em>Oh, crap!</em><br />
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<em>a) When I was 9 I had to go to confession for nicking a chocolate roll from the fridge. (!)</em><br />
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<em>b) Having been bible bashed as a child I no longer follow a faith. </em><br />
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<em>c) My first car at 17 was a Ford Capri Mark 3 with no tax and no insurance! And, yes I did get caught and charged and fined. Taught me a lesson.</em><br />
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<em>d) My first business venture was at the age of 13. I sold Pierre Cardin pens at school. I made a good profit and blew the lot on sweets.</em><br />
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<em>e) When I was 10 I cut the heels off my shoes so I could get a new pair. </em><br />
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<em>f) At 15 I stole a motorbike with my cousin and boyfriend. We ended up crashing it. We then went and stole a second one and blew the tyres out on it. The bikes belonged to a distant relative. They have never forgiven me.</em><br />
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<em>g) I used to be wild.</em><br />
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5. Nominate seven 'Kreativ Bloggers<br />
<br />
These guys are fabulous Kreativ bloggers, <br />
<br />
Jennysmith at The <a href="http://smokingmum.blogspot.com/">Cigarette Diaries</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://rachelpattisson.blogspot.com/">Really Rachel</a><br />
<br />
Casdok at <a href="http://motherofshrek.blogspot.com/">Mother of Shrek</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amodernmother.com/">A Modern Mother</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/">Sticky Fingers</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://rosiescribble.typepad.com/rosie-scribble/">Rosie Scribble</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.jobeaufoix.com/">Jo Beaufoix</a><br />
<br />
<br />
My next award was given to me by the fabulous <a href="http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/">Maternal Tales</a> and <a href="http://wifeofbold.blogspot.com/">Wife of Bold</a>. The Zombie Chicken Award.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUiOPC6m4Jri3qNT10eU2AEwj8m3U37xcG4E9NDMRzOmNl0c9qL2-QuBYg9tcQskVMZStAEZxYREJsXrPXLM-IPVcN12j-m9L8x7Ui-J46wtN7JIEGOXNzyMfPiOYc5nN1PrUyykVj5g/s1600-h/zombie_chicken_award%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUiOPC6m4Jri3qNT10eU2AEwj8m3U37xcG4E9NDMRzOmNl0c9qL2-QuBYg9tcQskVMZStAEZxYREJsXrPXLM-IPVcN12j-m9L8x7Ui-J46wtN7JIEGOXNzyMfPiOYc5nN1PrUyykVj5g/s320/zombie_chicken_award%5B1%5D.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken – excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all." <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hell hath no fury like a Zombie Chicken Award not given! So, the Zombie Chicks are:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://fragrantliar.blogspot.com/">Fragrant Liar</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://howtosurvivelifeinthesuburbs.blogspot.com/">Modernmom</a> at How to survive life in the suburbs<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://hotcrossmum.blogspot.com/">Hot Cross Mum</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://mightymother.info/">Mighty Mother</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ace at <a href="http://dancingwithafulldeck.blogspot.com/">Dancing with a full deck</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next award was given to me by the lovely <a href="http://discontentedlittlemummy.blogspot.com/">Discontented Little Mummy</a>. <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0orxsGPRgTs5pbx-nCRRmC3-0pLZBmmv5_AgGgpWLvg8iKej9-EmXPtLffj6z-SUBT2xmRn2plFyUF1hPCvowN7AL28ZhR84di6bdfHlZW12ogVMf4wIckqIwQ1qtcqsYak2P6D5g-z8/s1600-h/i_love_your_blog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0orxsGPRgTs5pbx-nCRRmC3-0pLZBmmv5_AgGgpWLvg8iKej9-EmXPtLffj6z-SUBT2xmRn2plFyUF1hPCvowN7AL28ZhR84di6bdfHlZW12ogVMf4wIckqIwQ1qtcqsYak2P6D5g-z8/s320/i_love_your_blog1.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I pass this award onto:<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Laura at <a href="http://www.arewenearlythereyetmummy.com/">Are We Nearly There Yet Mummy</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Mothership at <a href="http://motherhoodthefinalfrontier.com/">Motherhood the Final Frontier</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://marriedwithfour.wordpress.com/">Married with Four</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.chicmama.net/">Chic Mama</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://20somethingmum.blogspot.com/">20something Mum</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://sandycalico.blogspot.com/">Sandycalico</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://clareybabble.blogspot.com/">Clareybabble</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Kelly at A <a href="http://youfoundkelshidingplace.blogspot.com/">Place of My Own</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Ice Queen at <a href="http://theconstantchill.blogspot.com/">The Constant Chill</a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Cause I love your blogs!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The Honest Scrap Award which was given to me by <a href="http://rachelpattisson.blogspot.com/">Really Rachel</a>. Thank you sweetie.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZzf71_m0UVMueBezSU5pbRv72PCyUoQwAYwVQP7JFH4_mqIDyXNTMjeHJ3WQq4inqhMSIf6vUz8eGaca9I4mrVnVWU_VJmyuxHZEYlGeqzbD657LnVJw-ZeT0JBc_UjkvAJ03GijZk8/s1600-h/honest_scrap-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZzf71_m0UVMueBezSU5pbRv72PCyUoQwAYwVQP7JFH4_mqIDyXNTMjeHJ3WQq4inqhMSIf6vUz8eGaca9I4mrVnVWU_VJmyuxHZEYlGeqzbD657LnVJw-ZeT0JBc_UjkvAJ03GijZk8/s320/honest_scrap-12.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The Rules:<br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><br />
1. ‘The Honest Scrap Blogger Award’ must be shared. <em>Done</em><br />
<br />
2. The recipient has to tell 10 (true) things about themselves that no one else knows. <br />
<br />
<em>You've already had 7 so I'll tell you 3 other things</em><br />
<br />
<em>a) Lou and I bunked off school at 13 and ran away to London. We ended up at the nightclub Camden Palace. Half way through the night, our parents arrived and had a massive row with Steve Strange (the owner) and dragged us back home.</em><br />
<br />
<em>b) Angie Bowie (David Bowie's ex) tried to marry my boyfriend! (No lie!)</em><br />
<br />
<em>c) I once sang on a backing track and my boyfriends manager said I was really good. I am tone deaf and cant sing a note. Show's how much he knew!!!</em><br />
<br />
3. The recipient has to pass along the award to 10 more bloggers.<br />
<br />
4. Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.<br />
<br />
Ten Bloggers coming up:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://howilikemycoffee.blogspot.com/">How I like my coffee</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.insomniacmummy.com/">Insomniac Mummy</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://eliza-twaddle.blogspot.com/">Just Twaddle</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://all-about-eden-saraeden.blogspot.com/">saraeden</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://ladybirdworld.blogspot.com/">Ladybird World Mother</a><br />
<br />
JennyMac at <a href="http://letshaveacocktail.blogspot.com/">Lets Have a Cocktail</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://discontentedlittlemummy.blogspot.com/">Discontented Little Mummy</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://wifeofbold.blogspot.com/">Wife of Bold</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://fourdownmumtogo.blogspot.com/">Four Down Mum to Go</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://wadswivesanddaughters.blogspot.com/">Wives and Daughters</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<em>Knackered yet? Still a couple to go.......</em><br />
<br />
My next award was given to me by the wonderful <a href="http://20somethingmum.blogspot.com/">20somethingmum</a>. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRvU6256jhSWgkoO9U2AcewlLoCRXIFV4Qul1cGybzcxev6_Kc2SVGVSSpx2WSWUfLnJDOAxGDsApGNF4NtbVHnVkyNx-NdcepgXgdL2Dx5iOe2S8FsD-tEdwCAdyKJX_cUWLlsUjcWQ/s1600-h/superior+scribbler+award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRvU6256jhSWgkoO9U2AcewlLoCRXIFV4Qul1cGybzcxev6_Kc2SVGVSSpx2WSWUfLnJDOAxGDsApGNF4NtbVHnVkyNx-NdcepgXgdL2Dx5iOe2S8FsD-tEdwCAdyKJX_cUWLlsUjcWQ/s320/superior+scribbler+award.jpg" /></a><br />
</div> <br />
<br />
Here are the rules: <br />
<br />
1. Each Superior Scribbler must pass the award on to 5 more deserving Bloggers <br />
2. Each must link to the Author and Blog from whom they received the award <br />
3. Each must display the award on their blog<br />
4. Each must post the rules on their blog for those five to copy.<br />
<br />
My superior scribblers are:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://gritsday.blogspot.com/">Grits Day</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://britsinbosnia.blogspot.com/">Brits in Bosnia</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bringingupcharlie.co.uk/">Dotterel</a><br />
<br />
Zoo at <a href="http://www.beingamummy.co.uk/">Being A Mummy</a><br />
<br />
and <a href="http://ravingmarysragepage.blogspot.com/">Caution Woman at Work</a><br />
<br />
<br />
And lastly but by no means least 'The Circle of Friends Award' given to me by the ever fabulous <a href="http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/">Maternal Tales</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNV847a49T2wVGfaEuneGaE5uhlA2kyT887Flw0sDrbQIiYtBesSh8AqGDkvGd_R0knlAhKuJnL78GzUGmthOw7capyuGoZ70nD3AAjtAh98pe4ZkDBdVjoP06z8M7kZ6Cj9HRCiA4pE/s1600-h/circle-of-friends+-+MT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" sr="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNV847a49T2wVGfaEuneGaE5uhlA2kyT887Flw0sDrbQIiYtBesSh8AqGDkvGd_R0knlAhKuJnL78GzUGmthOw7capyuGoZ70nD3AAjtAh98pe4ZkDBdVjoP06z8M7kZ6Cj9HRCiA4pE/s320/circle-of-friends+-+MT.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><br />
<br />
I would like to pass this one on to these special guys.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/">Maternal Tales</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://crystaljigsaw.blogspot.com/">Crystal Jigsaw</a><br />
<br />
Amy at <a href="http://and1moremeansfour.blogspot.com/">And1moremeansfour</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://millenniumhousewife.blogspot.com/">Millenium Housewife</a><br />
<br />
Jo Jenkins at <a href="http://www.thefiftyfactor.com/">The Fifty Factor</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://joanne-helpinghands.blogspot.com/">Reasons to be Cheerful</a><br />
<br />
Rosiero at <a href="http://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/">Alcoholic Daze</a>.<br />
<br />
Well, thats it. I hoped you enjoyed it. <br />
<br />
I'm off to watch the FiX-factor in a mo, to see which other person who can sing is out! <br />
<br />
xxRebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-85533240492276198892009-11-12T04:00:00.005+00:002009-11-14T01:56:17.653+00:00Cheeky Monkey<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAL_52IPqHs4eOkVIoTmbxriRVPt6P5jpv7FI5A57UtNPdXH-AcLz7sl9yC02dhSxpqqi6gm3VpKAoCXfPtXEE_UT8R5Xs2RFD4AJkiO82EWBeJ0nlA1mCc6y6a7PW2ZlnAgOHNa_S_8/s1600-h/Cheeky+Monkey.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403045762888601426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAL_52IPqHs4eOkVIoTmbxriRVPt6P5jpv7FI5A57UtNPdXH-AcLz7sl9yC02dhSxpqqi6gm3VpKAoCXfPtXEE_UT8R5Xs2RFD4AJkiO82EWBeJ0nlA1mCc6y6a7PW2ZlnAgOHNa_S_8/s320/Cheeky+Monkey.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <span style="font-family: arial;">I feel like this today.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Rolling my eyes, at yet another crappy day.............</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Hubby has left his orange mobile phone in a hotel room in Vancouver. The hotel are trying to get it a flight home. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">However, the airline is in dispute with the unions and strikes about to start. The phone maybe stuck in Canada for the foreseeable future...... Lucky phone!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Olly left his school bag on the bus complete with dinner money pass <em>(I've just put £40 quid on on it!!!)</em>, bus pass, locker key, PE kit, homework etc. We have been running around bus stops trying to chase the errant bus, but surprisingly, it was too quick for us. I Phoned Central Control, who informed the Bus Inspectors, and arranged a rendezvous with the driver. We finally got to the supposed rendezvous but the driver had changed and the bag had disappeared!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">For F***ks sake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">We now have to wait to see if it turns up in the Buses lost property. Oh, what fun that will be, wading though all that!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">I caught <em>Nil points</em> (my bugger of a neighbour), nicking my cable! He ran a long thick pipe from my cable inlet to his house. He came round and said that he was only checking that it worked, because his cable wasn't working. It was stuck there for about three days, until I pulled it out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">His new baby is a 'mini-me' . A little boy I think. It is so good, I have yet to hear it cry. I just hear absurd cooing noises through the wall, made by his parents. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Why, oh why, does such a cheeky monkey of a neighbour have such a good baby? My lot did nothing but yell and scream and never let me get any shut-eye for TWO years. The yelling and bickering still continues.....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"><em>Nil</em> confessed to having one difficult night with him and his wife was in tears because she wasn't dressed by 10 o'clock. So he made her a cup of tea.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">I confessed to <em>Nil</em> that I used to wet myself because I didn't get time to go to the loo with two of them to look after and there was no Hubby around to watch them whilst I had a shower, so I had to stink!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"><em>(That'll teach him to bloody show-off with his good baby!).</em></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Needless to say I haven't seen him since. At least he's stopped nicking my cable now.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">My car is doing peculiar things too, like short-circuiting. <em>(It's not the only one!).</em> It keeps resetting the clock back to zero and doors fly open when you are driving. It thinks its Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang. Blasted thing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">The garage roof is leaking and so is the shed roof, all over my storage stuff!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">A ton of bills have dropped on my doormat, which I shall frame as I cannot pay them.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">I have no floor in the hall, because a radiator leaked all over it and ruined it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Amber smothered TWO white towels in red lipstick...........</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, the list goes on. I think you've probably had enough now.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">BTW Its my Hubby's birthday today. He has hit the magical 50!!!!!!!! Never thought we would see that one. Scary. It creeps up on you when you least expect it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">So I feel like that orangutan up there - isn't he cute? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;">From one cheeky monkey to another.......kisses and saucey winks to you. xx</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-11691870075204447012009-11-02T11:30:00.018+00:002009-11-02T16:20:30.600+00:00Hot Forks<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YannulXLMvdXqQeIwvrAJsqKx4lrjPfEVpgFdOeIYSzHiFf_YLlGjgtNAk0JiW52_p3FZZyfnc8mlZerxXlBG6OLr1JwyaiW6kJ6LytOW5DUzrk1SS3G1rIi3qswqxsmJVrepzOYqHw/s1600-h/Tired+squirrel2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399443402440728482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YannulXLMvdXqQeIwvrAJsqKx4lrjPfEVpgFdOeIYSzHiFf_YLlGjgtNAk0JiW52_p3FZZyfnc8mlZerxXlBG6OLr1JwyaiW6kJ6LytOW5DUzrk1SS3G1rIi3qswqxsmJVrepzOYqHw/s320/Tired+squirrel2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh my God! Is it over? Is that hideous Half Term week finally over?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It must be. I can hear nothing but silence in this house. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I feel like that shattered looking squirrel, completely done in.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The considerable torture that parents have to go through during Half Term week is nothing short of barbaric! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">There should be a law against Half Term week. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I may as well have been tied to a post for a week and prodded with hot forks.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Not only were the kids off but Liam also took a week off work and Hubby was home for a few days.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">'Oh, that's more help', I hear you cry.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Noooooo! That's a house full of lazy, smelly, dirty boys!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The house smelt like a sweaty boys locker room. Bums and feet!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">The whiffs that emanated from the boys bedrooms where foul. Liam was the biggest stinker, being holed up in his bedroom for the entire week. The pong from his room was enough to make your hair curl. (We discovered later it was his slippers.....Ugh!).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I did nothing but run round clearing up after everyone, picking up their stuff, throwing open windows, doors, trying to get rid of the stink; hoovering and cleaning everyday. It was nothing short of slave labour.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">And the NOISE!!!!!!!!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">So much bloody noise!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">There would be intermittent silences followed by loud crashing noises followed by shouts of OOOOOHHHH, AAAAHHHHHHHHHH, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. The times I jumped out of my skin. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I took those kids out everyday for a 'run' and still they had boundless energy. They remind me of dogs. I'm not partial to dogs.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">And don't go thinking that Amber was a little angel.......the minute my back was turned, that little madam was up to no good.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">On Sunday I had to go and visit Father again, so I took Olly with me, picked up Mother on the way and left Hubby, Liam and Amber at home. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother was actually quite well behaved this trip. Father would wander off one way and Olly would go the other - so one of us would run after the 'wandering one'. It was quite mentally and physically exhausting.</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyhow, when I finally got back home, unbeknown to Hubby and Liam <em>(useless pair)</em>, Amber had got hold of my pink nail polish and daubed pink paint on just about everything. She also stuck stickers all over my armchair. More horrifyingly, she had grabbed a pair of scissors and cut a fringe into her hair. You know, one of those fashionable cover-up baldy type fringes.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I was aghast!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I told her I was taking her to the hairdressers, but she couldn't wait could she?</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;">I can only trust in Karma. What goes round, comes round.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Children should come with a health warning:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">BEWARE: This child may cause loss of sanity, premature aging, frazzled nerves, extreme money shortage, teeth loss, gum disease, hair loss due to unavoidable pulling, stomach ulcers, high blood pressure and sleep deprivation. Avoid becoming a chocoholic, alcoholic, or dependent on prescription drugs. Can cause adult to self-destruct and in extreme cases may cause death. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mmmm......Maybe its just my kids that should come with a health warning!<br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Ho-Hum!<br /></span><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-88759843718130261662009-10-22T09:30:00.004+01:002009-10-22T16:04:38.475+01:00Unveiling<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0ym86BLgIMEbnNKpfLu8ZIQqlUxiPKyqZpw2sp4E_bmRn35RXKrnsYxJrN_Zkj_QRxlwgPRm3zeq2M4J-LW02UBWwy3tCeZMHiCk4DluaddMsTgq3E3IsljlLpvraS3dEaqfxdfyjmQ/s1600-h/Creative+Ball+J%26J.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 276px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395326661785548338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0ym86BLgIMEbnNKpfLu8ZIQqlUxiPKyqZpw2sp4E_bmRn35RXKrnsYxJrN_Zkj_QRxlwgPRm3zeq2M4J-LW02UBWwy3tCeZMHiCk4DluaddMsTgq3E3IsljlLpvraS3dEaqfxdfyjmQ/s400/Creative+Ball+J%26J.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Eeeeek! The moment of truth!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This is me and Lou.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I am surprised the picture came out so well, considering we were off our faces at the time!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Lou was holding one of her Balls........ <em>(oh my God, the puns........lets start again).</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Lou was holding her Christmas Ball, <em>(Aaaaaah....there it is again! I am obviously in a smutty mood today),</em> at the <a href="http://www.marriott.co.uk/hotels/travel/longh-grosvenor-house-a-jw-marriott-hotel/">Grosvenor</a>, I think. Well, I cant actually remember where it was, but I do remember it was a Burlesque night. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">There were lots of sweaty, middle-aged men, gawping at the stage where scantily-clad girls shook their bits and bobs. Girls were climbing out of giant cocktail glasses and lolling about on huge telephones. <em>(No, my drink wasn't spiked).</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyway, my graduation piccys are stuck in the post, due to the postal strike, so in the manner of a Blue Peter presenter, 'Here's one I made earlier'!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Have a guess which one I am.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Here's a clue:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">From the mouth of my Husband, 'You have Trouble written all over your face!'.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">From my dry gob, 'I thought it was 'Doormat'</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Hope you all have a lovely weekend. I'm off to Lou's.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">RMxx</span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-5619470956836423012009-10-16T14:00:00.054+01:002009-10-16T15:05:39.356+01:00A Little Faith<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 260px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 260px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393128960009975010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNqby_irLLLXgsV5DVPO7SAAM8mkWNcUD8Je441Wkh0b8Gcoh5B6bhJlq2D7L67pggL6qP_sF_YIfk4S_JGWUJhZ0uIqp9rIHqmtZWc3yOj9n3wNsWUWq6R7E4r3pqw36NKzs1JCunif4/s400/ostrich_head_sand2.jpg" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">This is a picture of my mother.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Her head buried in the sand as usual. </span><br /></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Regular readers will recall how my Mother thinks I'm being 'groomed' by my lovely blogging pals, and last weekend she told me that I was her favourite child for 2 and half years, until my sister was born!!!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Yeah.... well, we all have our crosses to bear don't we?</span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyway, last Friday I was invited to attend an award ceremony which was held in London at the </span><a href="http://www.iod.com/is-bin/INTERSHOP.enfinity/eCS/Store/en/-/GBP/IODContentManager-Start;sid=yurYBjH6HumH33sipwzSkJk6WJqroGK8sUc=?ChannelID=4&MenuID=28&TemplateName=premises%2fcontent%2flondon%2fprem_london%2eisml"><span style="font-family:arial;">Institute of Directors</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">. It was in view of finally passing those bloody exams and becoming a full member of the Accountancy body. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I was only allowed to take one person with me and unfortunately Hubby was in Johannesburg, so Mother muscled her way in and decided she was going to come.</span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As usual we got behind time because of Mother's incessant nonsensical chatter about absolutely nothing, so I was rushing trying to put on a bit of 'slap' (make-up). I was mortified to discover that I had overdone it with the make-up. My light brown eyeshadow was in fact really dark brown/black and I had put lashings of black Kohl eyeliner on. I resembled something out of a porn movie ... much to my disgust.</span><span style="font-family:arial;"> </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother, in the meantime, had got rather excited about her jewellery, and was wearing every little piece she had brought with her. She was a walking 'bling'.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">With parting comments from the kids on our appearance, 'Oi, what you got on your face?' and 'Nan, you look like a rapper', we left Liam watching the kids and grabbed a cab to the station.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></div></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It was pissing down with rain and we spent a hideous 20 Min's stuck inside the confines of a cab, listening to a lunatic cab driver rant about how 'we' are bombing his country! <em>(Oh, just shut up and drive!!!).</em> When I could stomach the rantings no long, I got him to pull over and flung the money at him, whilst Mother and I escaped into the pouring rain.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We caught the train, grabbed another cab and finally arrived in Pall Mall. The IOD was lovely. Mother was extremely happy as the booze was free flowing. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I had asked Mother to take some pictures of me. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">This is the one Mother took of me in the hat and gown.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPS-8PsvLuo7T64PLSIK3IAFaK4kOIO12q9witPoR5uVWHKjOBN9SO6cFsawes4mR2JiNeKszCDUgnq2AjHFJ1wQxc7sSEIqcVRa27NiW-7UW34cMOAzQh_YlWqKSoLmH8s_bfzkhkFUs/s1600-h/Award+Ceremony+001.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393154565346678098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPS-8PsvLuo7T64PLSIK3IAFaK4kOIO12q9witPoR5uVWHKjOBN9SO6cFsawes4mR2JiNeKszCDUgnq2AjHFJ1wQxc7sSEIqcVRa27NiW-7UW34cMOAzQh_YlWqKSoLmH8s_bfzkhkFUs/s200/Award+Ceremony+001.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Who the hell is this? That's not even me! This is a picture of a random woman.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">And this is the one she took of me going on stage to receive my award from the president:</span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIaQ4igFPlpCesMZUlfZrRurNwbn10LrRUEVe-OsyYJQakqSYI0QYqL14AKzbGUJnoj0BaiIg6a7Rq1MBCVCff6LTO7DS_uNICPEnCSfGPj3hGJBFY02k33lf3m2nfEwdn48wDeIwUe4/s1600-h/Award+Ceremony+002.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393156188842256818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIaQ4igFPlpCesMZUlfZrRurNwbn10LrRUEVe-OsyYJQakqSYI0QYqL14AKzbGUJnoj0BaiIg6a7Rq1MBCVCff6LTO7DS_uNICPEnCSfGPj3hGJBFY02k33lf3m2nfEwdn48wDeIwUe4/s200/Award+Ceremony+002.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">(!)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This isn't me either. This is a picture of the shoulders of the people sitting in front of us!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Bloody woman.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Luckily, I'd booked the photographer to take some professional photos, so we had to queue up to get my picture taken with the hat and gown. Whilst we were queuing, Mother went in search of more booze.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: I'll just get another glass of wine</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Haven't you had enough of a whine today?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother<em>(oblivious):</em> Ooh, look at that waiter, there's loads of wine on his tray.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Yeah, you like a nice whine don't you?<br /></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:arial;">(Sometimes I just cant help myself).</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I finally got some lovely snaps taken, however, my behaviour in front of a camera has always been a little........sluttish!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I cant help it. I used to model, and its hard to leave those days behind, especially when the photographer is so encouraging. 'Oh, we've got a glamour puss here!', and 'That's it, a bit more, turn this way.....goooood'. It was his fault for encouraging me!<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother was appalled. 'Everyone's staring at you', she hissed.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">'I don't care', I replied, pouting and pushed my boobs out a little more. I do this just to irritate her.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So to irritate me, she somehow managed to persuade the photographer to have her photo taken with me! I now have my Mother in my photos! Urgh! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Admittedly, they are more demure.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">While the presentation was being held, I snuck out to go the loo. When I came back, Mother started whispering.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: I never realised what you had achieved.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Does that surprise you?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: Well, you know, you having such a big child......(she meant me having Liam at 17, who is now 23).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Did you not think I could do it then?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: Well, quite frankly, you were the last person I would have thought would have achieved this.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:arial;">(Charming).</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Well, at least I have not lost the ability to surprise you then. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">If she stopped playing at being an Ostrich and took her head out of the sand once in while, perhaps she would realise that being labelled for an eternity as a 'teenage single mum', does not always equal useless, stupid and thick forever! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">A little faith is required.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>(Me singing)</em> </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5OUYptpCQJ8"><span style="font-family:arial;">Have a little Faith</span></a>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-31003453931083904972009-10-07T18:00:00.022+01:002009-10-07T18:35:57.450+01:00Death and Taxes Part 2<span style="font-family:arial;">Dear God! The shenanigans about my brother-in-law, 'Jolly Roger', have been coming thick and fast. Everyday it is something new. It appears that 'Jolly Roger' is more like Roger the Dodger!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Apparently, the house, which incidentally he bought for peanuts 20 odd years ago, has three mortgages on it! Mortgaged up and beyond all reasonable levels.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My sister-in-law, Suki, has found out that she has two maxed out credit cards in her name, which she didn't know about. Her signature was forged on these documents. Other credit card statements are pouring in, in Roger's name, also maxed out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Loan sharks have been telephoning the house and people, who we all thought were his mates, were actually people he had borrowed money from. They've been knocking at Suki's door telling her how much he owed them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Roger's parents were considered 'tight' by my Hubby's family, but now it has come to light that they had been lending or giving him money for years and in the end got really fed up with him and so put a stop to it. Now we know why.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Roger borrowed his sister's life savings and never paid it back. When their father died, he left both of them some share certificates to be equally distributed, however, Roger got hold of them, sold the lot and pocketed the money.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My mother-in-law lent Roger her late husbands car, but, rather stupidly, left the registration details in the car. So Roger sold it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You would think this was enough wouldn't you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh no!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A couple of days ago, a mistress of SEVEN years crawled out the woodwork. SEVEN years! And he 'took' her for 70 grand as well. We don't know much about her yet, just that she was local and he had known her for donkey's years. Hope there are no secret kiddies.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You couldn't make this up could you? Its bloody unbelievable.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And so the river's of tears that were shed have dried up completely and been replaced by anger. Suki is so enraged, Roger is still in the morgue.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He has had his autopsy which we are just waiting for the results of, <em>(should be interesting)</em>, and there also has to be an inquest. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I think he was quite clever, because he kept everyone at arms length so no-one spoke to each other about all this lending and borrowing. I suppose this is how Con-Artists do it. Apparently this had been going on for years. However, it caught up with him in the end, otherwise he wouldn't have had such a shocking demise.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The rough estimate of debt at the moment is in excess of half a million, and rising constantly, with no assets!!! Not a bean! Suki has 35p in her purse and that's it!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The questions I would like to know are these:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What was he doing in that city? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Had he come to meet someone? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Was it a dodgy deal that went wrong? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Why did he have his passport on him at the time? </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What was the drain of money?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">All the money was going out all time. Maybe he was a gambler or secret druggie <em>(although I don't think it was drugs)</em>. Something was draining that money away and it must be huge. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Needless to say, I don't think many people will be attending the funeral. Hubby is flatly refusing to go, and Suki is even debating it. I think the Mistress wants to go though. That wont be much fun, the Wife and Mistress at the funeral! </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I would never have pinned Roger down as the 'Artful Dodger' or 'Artful Roger' come to that. But he hood-winked us all. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Just shows you doesn't it? You don't really know anyone.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I shall keep you updated with anymore details that come in.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">x</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-20457362745585767162009-10-03T16:00:00.008+01:002009-10-03T16:43:01.243+01:00Coming Up Trumps<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQPi_o6N_FMT-D98jyQZDCcd3efBTH2AHeVfh_489FYjDk-RtIXal3apzvd5hOieh054nU-XoYRC_RJa7AWF-Filfj8LjwxIVI4HkXCPOKPuEJuMrpp4IoXViuBoOIwUNURBDDmqxlhc/s1600-h/ACE.gif"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388365991396427234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQPi_o6N_FMT-D98jyQZDCcd3efBTH2AHeVfh_489FYjDk-RtIXal3apzvd5hOieh054nU-XoYRC_RJa7AWF-Filfj8LjwxIVI4HkXCPOKPuEJuMrpp4IoXViuBoOIwUNURBDDmqxlhc/s200/ACE.gif" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After recent shocking events it would be nice to have a bit of good news - and finally we have some and its all to do with the boys!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Liam applied for promotion and had an agonising wait for a week, but he got it. This is a massive confidence boost for him, especially after that awful business with his ex-girlfriend </span><a href="http://rebelmother.blogspot.com/2009/03/playing-with-fire.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">Rhino</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">. His current girlfriend Abbi, is still on the scene and they seem to be getting on OK. She is really a nice girl. <em>(Hurrah!)</em>.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Olly has surpassed all expectations and has even left me a bit gob-smacked.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He started at his new school (secondary) last month and has come on leaps and bounds.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I started driving Olly to and from school everyday, through despicable traffic, which just made my hair stand on end, it was that stressful. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After a couple of days he got fed up with this. He wanted to go by bus. There is a school bus that picks him up around the corner and drops him back after school. No general public use it and it is just for use by the kids that go to neighbouring schools.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">However, Olly having Autism, </span><a href="http://www.nas.org.uk/nas/jsp/polopoly.jsp?d=212"><span style="font-family:arial;">Aspergers Syndrome</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, means that catching buses and fiddling around with bus passes and timetables and all those little, everyday things that we take for granted is quite difficult for him to negotiate. He has lots of social and behaviour problems, so the worry for me is about the other kids on the bus. Is it busy? Does he know anyone? Will he get into a fight and punch someones lights out?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">(In parent meetings with the ASC Support group I have found it common for most kids like Olly, with some form of 'invisible' disability, to be bullied. But Olly just punches them and they leave him alone. Not ideal, I know, but it does stop the bullying in its tracks).</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After chauffeuring him to and from school a few times, he started to get really agitated and kept asking continually to take the bus. After a few days I got really fed up with his badgering, so, once I had armed him with a mobile phone, I walked him to the bus stop one morning. As soon as the other kids started arriving he told me to 'Get lost'. <em>(Charming! This is his way of saying goodbye and is not meant to be interpreted as offensive).</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I hid around the corner and just made sure he got on the bus, which he did. I then spent the whole day worrying whether he had made it to school or not, then worrying if he would make it home again! It was agonising. <em>(I know, I know, I'm a worry-wort). </em>But, I reasoned that, at some stage in your child's life, you have to let go of the reigns and, regardless or not whether they have a disability, they do have to grow up and take responsibility. So this was a learning curve for me.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Later that afternoon, he came bounding through the back door like a huge excitable puppy, really pleased that he had made it to school and back on his own.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">This is a major achievement as it now proves that he has advanced another step towards independence. I'm well chuffed!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">A few weeks ago, the kids decided they wanted to attend an audition for </span><a href="http://www.ambassadortickets.com/925/664/Brighton/Theatre-Royal-Brighton/Peter-Pan-Brighton"><span style="font-family:arial;">Peter Pan</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, the Christmas pantomime, that is being held at our local theatre in December.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We attended the audition, but I did tell the kids that they probably wouldn't get a part, but it would be good experience for them. On that understanding, (which I think is very important in this particular industry), they were still happy to attend, so we went.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">100 boys auditioned for 12 places and 300 girls auditioned for 10 places! It was like a mini X-factor with queues all the way down the street!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After hours of hanging around and seeing plenty of little kids in tears, I found Amber first. She didn't get a part, but she seemed OK with that. We had to wait for what seemed like an eternity for Olly to come out.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Eventually, he emerged. He'd got a part of a Lost Boy. It is his first professional role and he gets paid as well! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">There is a long way to go before Christmas and there are lots of rehearsals to go through and lots of shows to do. They have five boys in reserve, just in case things do not go as planned. As we know, life is unpredictable!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">But for the moment, I am so proud of my boys and especially Olly, who despite all odds keeps Coming Up Trumps. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.autismsandiego.org/description.php"><span style="font-family:arial;">Autism Centre of Excellence</span></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-66795346202156427112009-09-26T00:00:00.012+01:002009-09-26T00:09:56.834+01:00Death and Taxes<span style="font-family:arial;">Forgive me for not posting or commenting, but this week started off truly awful with nothing less than a 'Witch Hunt', then it peaked to dizzying heights with dear Olly coming up trumps (that kid never ceases to amaze me and I will write a post about it soon - I'm so proud of him), and now we have been plunged back into such depths of despair that is beyond belief.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It has been just one thing after another this week, but this latest tragedy is just simply appalling.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My Hubby's sister's husband, Roger, was the kindest, jolliest and loveliest of men. At 6ft 6" by 6ft 6", he was a towering giant of man, with a gentle, sensitive soul. Jolly Roger we used to call him. He doted on the kids, he didn't have children of his own so they used to spoil Olly and Amber something rotten.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">One afternoon this week, he drove into a large UK city and parked his car at the top of a multi-storey car park and threw himself off. He plunged 70ft onto a busy main road and was then hit by a double-decker bus!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Did the bus come along just to make sure that the 'job' was done?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It is almost laughable. What kind of a cruel joke is this? Another one of Life's twists and turns?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Needless to say we are shocked and devastated and Hubby's poor sister is beside herself with grief. To make matters worse it was captured on CCTV footage, however, because of the footage, the police have declared it a suicide, although this was so out of character.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I was unable to tell the kids that their Uncle committed suicide, so I have told them it was a heart attack.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The local papers have even reported the death. There are rivers of tears streaming through this house and up north too (where Hubby's family is from). I have yet to cry. I feel numb with shock. My family need me to keep things ticking over, keep the routines going, so that is what I am doing. Olly appears to be coping very well, although Amber is a bit of a wreck. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Some 'wit' whose name escapes me right now wrote 'The only thing that is certain in life is death and taxes'. At least you can ring an accountant if you're not sure when your taxes are due. Unfortunately for death, we have no such assurance.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">For my dear brother-in-law, Roger. Love you, miss you. R.I.P.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-5506766460625135432009-09-16T11:15:00.013+01:002009-09-16T11:21:54.513+01:00Glorious Food<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeE8cz7YPrj-x7djIllX0qTBimEEnyobI264kfyBD8GjyM8-SeBy2C7GtcA6jNLV5ILyO_ODZjffhu8eVkbv2WaanSje0fdIumOF6Paa2B5tFQzQJPmzKd4amtKyThiwop2vOU798_VA/s1600-h/Veg+001.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381983458599930866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpeE8cz7YPrj-x7djIllX0qTBimEEnyobI264kfyBD8GjyM8-SeBy2C7GtcA6jNLV5ILyO_ODZjffhu8eVkbv2WaanSje0fdIumOF6Paa2B5tFQzQJPmzKd4amtKyThiwop2vOU798_VA/s200/Veg+001.jpg" /></a></p><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What the hell is this???</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Abbi (Liam's new girlfriend), who seems to be a permanent fixture at weekends, says this was a gift from her mother. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">To feed her with no doubt!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">On questioning Abbi, with regards to 'What is it?', 'What do I do with it?', 'Does it have a name?',</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">'Is it rhubarb?', 'How do I cook it?'. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">She replied, 'Its like spinach. Cook it like Spinach'.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">She obviously is not aware that my cooking skills, regarding the art of creating a spinach dish, <em>(or any dish come to that)</em> do not stretch that far.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And what the frig is this?<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBHqRSrGhcNOmG_8mQ_xv8hMWOMJgDCfGByF-_KWpPCisqNVc6MCRrnkxYZY8U25MeTATC3EAFqs29vcuWo0jhm8GI10PPaemGzw91uZGD9L_bFpY54z4ffpeGnkdg9xjzn9O5auTwgE/s1600-h/Veg+003.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381983016332876482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBHqRSrGhcNOmG_8mQ_xv8hMWOMJgDCfGByF-_KWpPCisqNVc6MCRrnkxYZY8U25MeTATC3EAFqs29vcuWo0jhm8GI10PPaemGzw91uZGD9L_bFpY54z4ffpeGnkdg9xjzn9O5auTwgE/s200/Veg+003.jpg" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Looks like overgrown sweetcorn kernels.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">These are mini yellow tomatoes apparently.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Can you eat yellow tomatoes, without being poisoned?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">At least I know what this is.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93WuIOgfwyW_svdMT5iVpSTydpNsUnnvlgcwEgEh8OcPtQqhzCr7TwyxhMGya8D9wz_F_a5WHVXofx0QI8fh8sLPnbP6h5bSfTL2-p5hzRCuQgDMOQxCC9kHBuA8VAmBakGP6_ZbmIyU/s1600-h/Veg+002.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381982801641001986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi93WuIOgfwyW_svdMT5iVpSTydpNsUnnvlgcwEgEh8OcPtQqhzCr7TwyxhMGya8D9wz_F_a5WHVXofx0QI8fh8sLPnbP6h5bSfTL2-p5hzRCuQgDMOQxCC9kHBuA8VAmBakGP6_ZbmIyU/s200/Veg+002.jpg" /></a></p><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A fuzzy piccy of a cucumber.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Yeah, well, I'm not sure how long the first two will sit in my fridge, the spinach thing must be about 3ft long and is curling around the inside of my fridge muscling in on everything else. It is a very bolshy vegetable.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We seem to be inundated with other visitors at the weekend too these days......mainly Liam's huge, strapping mates.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">When did they grow so big? Am I shrinking?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I knew these kids when they were scrawny 12 year olds, who wouldn't say 'boo to a goose' and where no taller than a reed of grass. Now they are towering 23 year old men with bulging muscles, big gobs and noisy fast cars. The neighbours get a bit twitchy when they visit.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Liam's room emits noise like a football crowd on a Saturday afternoon. Smutty words can be heard echoing down the stairwell along with great guff's of raucous laughter! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">They also have stomachs like bottom-less pits. Why do they always come round at tea-time? I cant feed that lot......my fridge would be empty in a matter of seconds!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Mmm, seconds thoughts, it might solve the problem of the spinach tree growing in the fridge. I could whip 'em up a spinach and tomato tart delicately decorated with cucumber.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In my experience, young men seem to like the taste of a good-looking tart!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>(Singing)</em> Food, glorrrrr.............rious........fooooooooooooooood!</span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-22276406090575241562009-09-11T10:00:00.013+01:002009-09-11T13:39:14.259+01:00Bloody Brilliant Blog Award<span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><u><span style="color:#0000ff;"></span></u><br /><u><span style="color:#0000ff;"></span></u><br /><u><span style="color:#0000ff;"></span></u><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLdtGrB_lkidp0t2RTvP3DMlg13WLlHxUF2KdHdmzNTTh0grFaC2cBa5Z3c5TaYR8B3VjMhJFgltUBpoMWQt12T_vTNszndyC3jA8t0xOTdtwkJ1LZmJU8aM6VK2bZ6CFAAsBXpUmkk4/s1600-h/Bloody+Brilliant+Blog.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380123409458139330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLdtGrB_lkidp0t2RTvP3DMlg13WLlHxUF2KdHdmzNTTh0grFaC2cBa5Z3c5TaYR8B3VjMhJFgltUBpoMWQt12T_vTNszndyC3jA8t0xOTdtwkJ1LZmJU8aM6VK2bZ6CFAAsBXpUmkk4/s400/Bloody+Brilliant+Blog.png" /></a><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I received this Bloody Brilliant Blog Award from the fabulous </span><a href="http://britsinbosnia.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Brits in Bosnia </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">- at least I think she gave me this particular award......I cant be sure, because my brain feels like a soggy tapioca pudding this morning, if it is indeed still in my head. I think it is gone AWOL.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I would also like to mention </span><a href="http://fourdownmumtogo.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Four Down Mum To Go</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> and the super </span><a href="http://sandycalico.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">SandyCalico</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> - both who have given me awards in the past, but being an utter dimwit I cant remember if I have thanked them.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">So, my great thanks to those lovely ladies for thinking of me and I shall pass it on.</span></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://sanewithoutdrugs.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hit40</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://www.thefiftyfactor.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Fifty Factor</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://ravingmarysragepage.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Womanatwork</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://crystaljigsaw.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Crystal jigsaw</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://hotcrossmum.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Hot Cross Mum</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://bringingupcharlie.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Dotterel</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Maternal Tales</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://gritsday.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Grits Day</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://and1moremeansfour.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">And1moremeansfour</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://joanne-helpinghands.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Reasons to be Cheerful</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://clareybabble.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Clareybabbling</span></a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://alcoholicdaze.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Alcholic Daze</span></a></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">In fact, if any of you guys would like the poster then please have it, cause you're all pretty damn Bloody Brilliant.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Enjoy. I have to go and find my brain now.</span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Love RMxx</span></div><br /><div></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-45013532060085021462009-09-07T11:30:00.032+01:002009-09-13T23:08:57.566+01:00Divine Solitude<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudGCjZputvt422pvNOWK_UyUKPnMLRhXIo78TZgQjpTxA0Z_ExZqP9cgO76fhPn5_zoeecZ1Kowft46rCt-pMAj38KILfEUUauDEyIdXeTOjCh2_3qQz79Fhm6Kk8645ASo3JjAzaLT4/s1600-h/Divine+Solitude2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378658284451868850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhudGCjZputvt422pvNOWK_UyUKPnMLRhXIo78TZgQjpTxA0Z_ExZqP9cgO76fhPn5_zoeecZ1Kowft46rCt-pMAj38KILfEUUauDEyIdXeTOjCh2_3qQz79Fhm6Kk8645ASo3JjAzaLT4/s320/Divine+Solitude2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;">Photograph by Paolo Curto/Getty Images<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">What a pissy week!</span></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">After a lovely two week respite I have landed back on earth with a crash and assumed my previous role of Domestic Drudge.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">There are too many people in this house. Everywhere you turn there is an offspring of mine or a husband or a relative or someones girlfriend or a pigging salesman at the door hoodwinking my fool of a husband. (My husband said I was cruel to kick him out and that the young salesman looked like he was going to cry. I couldn't have cared less. Get out, get out, get out!)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">My gums have blown up to an indescribable painful proportion (I think its gingivitis) so I cant eat, drink or talk much, which is a shame. However, Hubby has taken to whistling and singing of late and appears to be in a very good mood now my tongue is no longer able to wag!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">But today is a fabulous day! There is no one in the house but me. Olly is at his new school, which he seems to be enjoying - although I don't enjoy battling the traffic to drop him off and pick him up twice a day. Amber is at her school (she is in the last year of Primary now), Liam is at work and Hubby has gone back to Nairobi for a few days. So it is bliss, bliss, bliss!!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I have applied for membership from the affiliating body that I passed my exams in, but you also have to submit relevant work experience and references, so I am just waiting to hear if I have been successful. If so, there are further options, such as more study (for fucks sake!) or opening up my own business - but this is also extremely regulated. They obviously don't want any tin-pot crap then! I'm chomping at the bit at the moment, ready to steam ahead, but all this waiting around is doing my head in. Still, we'll know soon enough.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyhow, today is a day of Divine Solitude and although I don't look anything like that bird swimming around in the Indian Ocean or live anywhere like that beautiful tropical island in the Maldives, spiritually I am her and I am there - for today, anyway.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-88802623199343380702009-08-30T00:00:00.002+01:002009-08-30T00:00:59.325+01:00Postcards Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlUlDC-yyVSOibhbgAim_sg0iJd6KteielFDuxCfE8VAe95e9tQMCvcOjOP8AYXGczgKG6h-k2G8-lECFu9kxWpG2a40NpFBc07iw0GCXHVEyO7drdZozno_hiJRdR1S_T1R3437LnIw/s1600-h/Flowery+shorts.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375514031805023186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlUlDC-yyVSOibhbgAim_sg0iJd6KteielFDuxCfE8VAe95e9tQMCvcOjOP8AYXGczgKG6h-k2G8-lECFu9kxWpG2a40NpFBc07iw0GCXHVEyO7drdZozno_hiJRdR1S_T1R3437LnIw/s320/Flowery+shorts.jpg" /></a><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;">Heathrow Airport 19/08/09</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Rang Father to let him know I was going away. Someone else picked up the phone and informed me that he would be available in sixteen minutes. (Sixteen minutes?????????????).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Rang back after eighteen minutes, just to be awkward. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">I was befriended in the airport by a middle-aged poof called Coolen. (Apparently he had taken a shine to my 'slapper' shoes). Coolen knew a straight Grounds Staff Dispatch man, who was also intrigued by my 8 inch heels and begged me for a peek. So I flashed him my 'slapper' shoes, and he upgraded me to First!!!!! Couldn't believe it! I flew all the way to Singapore in First Class with Coolen.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"><em></em></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"><em>Singapore 20/08/2009</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Hubby and I went out to a local eatery for a lovely slap-up meal that cost about £5. Got caught in a torrential downpour on the way back to the hotel. Unfortunately I was wearing my flip-flops which were next to useless on the tiled pavements and I skidded all the way back to the hotel. When we finally reached our room I glanced in the mirror and was appalled. My hair was plastered to my head, my make-up had run and, worst of all, my bra had soaked up all the rain so the only wet patches on my t-shirt were around the bosom area. I was mortified.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">The next day we walked into Chinatown and took a look around the market. We then grabbed a cab and went to Sentosa Island. There was a wooden bridge that boasted it was 'Asia's most Southern Point'. Standing right at the tip looking out to sea, I noticed another island. It was about 200ft further south.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Jumped on a Cable Car to Mount Faber. Unfortunately we only got about a third of the way up, when another thunder storm struck. The cable car ground to halt and we were left dangling hundreds of feet in the air while lightening flashed and thunder crashed around us. Flipping scary.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">About an hour later we had finally made our way back to the mainland, but there were no cabs for love nor money because it was still pouring down. We took the MRT (train). It is the cleanest train I have ever been on. There was a man with a cloth cleaning it and spraying disinfectant! A far cry from London's hot and sticky Tube.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">In the evening, went to Raffles Hotel for my Singapore Sling. Expensively delicious.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">The next morning we walked to Little India. Very interesting. The temple was painted different colours and the pavements are so packed full of market stalls you have to walk in the road and dodge the cars. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Flew to Sydney in the afternoon.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;">Sydney, Australia. 23/08/09</span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Just arrived at the hotel when Liam rung my mobile. He was pissed out of his head and slurred that he and his mates where having a great BBQ/party in the garden and <em>Nil points </em>(our neighbour) was having a hissy fit. In the background I could hear<em> Nil</em> shouting above the din. But Liam's mates laughter drowned him out.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Walked through Sydney's botanic gardens - truly beautiful, then on to the Opera House. Purchased a ticket to Manly Island and took the ferry across Sydney Harbour. The world and its wife were all on Manly Beach: surfing, boogie-boarding, snorkeling, diving and paddling. So we kicked off our shoes and ran into the sea. We soon ran out again, it was bloody freezing! If that had been in Brighton we would all be hovering on the shoreline, daring to dip in a toe. Not with the Australians, they don't care how cold it is. They're hard!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">In the evening we had a juicy steak at a restaurant over looking Sydney Harbour on 'The Rocks'. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"><em>Sydney, Australia 24/08/09</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">The next morning we had another slap-up English breakfast as Hubby said he was 'all noodled out'.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Caught a flight back to Singapore.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"><em>Singapore 25/08/09</em></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Went to Orchard Road to do a bit of shopping. Nothing but shopping malls everywhere. I lasted 10 mins. Very tired. Went back to hotel and slept.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">In the evening we went back to Little India and had a curry served on a banana leaf! Fabulous. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;">A new delicacy sweeping Singapore at the moment is Fish Head Curry. A fish head in a curry sauce, that people pay high prices for. Uurgh!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><em>Singapore 26/08/09</em></span> </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">Today is my birthday. I am forty frigging one.<em> </em>366 days ago I was 39.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">A Singaporean cab driver told me that today is the Chinese Valentine's Day, but nobody celebrates it anymore - they all celebrate on the 14th February instead.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">We spent the morning back on the beach at Sentosa Island. Hubby bought some blue flowery swimming shorts. On anyone else they would have looked ridiculous, but somehow he didnt look too bad in them. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">In the afternoon we had Tiffin at Raffles. They even brought out a teeny, tiny chair for my handbag to sit on! Bizarre!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">I had a fabulous birthday and felt extremely lucky.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;color:#330033;">They managed to squeeze me on the flight home, which was lucky, but unluckily I spent the next 13 hours sitting next to a man who stank of fish. Apparently, he was a Norwegian businessman who supplies fish food to Australia and Norway. I think air freshners should be mandatory for people in this kind of work.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc66cc;"><em></em></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#330033;">My glamorous exotic adventure is over and I enjoyed every moment of it. I did cry on the way home, because my beautiful dream life was finishing and the reality of domestic drudgery is about to bite once more. x</span></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-85533427533731851082009-08-17T00:20:00.007+01:002009-08-17T21:21:43.985+01:00Freedom<p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbWya9eNS7QFi6Lc013pDcacaHt_IxtJOrs7XsWAJo7XvuYwv6_uViZJedrGAQojqJVKhCuzE9A2poTiugdlTJBy6EDecLyZw9_7Ux1zbNoprzIZrOVAq1Vg925UuzVzA9xYQ2rdErO8/s1600-h/smiling+camel.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 308px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370673655640767730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbWya9eNS7QFi6Lc013pDcacaHt_IxtJOrs7XsWAJo7XvuYwv6_uViZJedrGAQojqJVKhCuzE9A2poTiugdlTJBy6EDecLyZw9_7Ux1zbNoprzIZrOVAq1Vg925UuzVzA9xYQ2rdErO8/s320/smiling+camel.jpg" /></a><br /></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Today I feel like this.<br /></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">A big, in your face, cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeese!</span></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh rapturous joy!<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">The kids were whisked off to my mother-in-laws by Hubby on Friday night, for TWO whole weeks.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The woman is a god-send.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Once a year she usually has one or other of them for a couple of weeks. Last year she didn't have either of them because we had a bit of a row. (It was over Hubby's deranged brother. The bloke has a few screws loose and would definitely benefit from a good long stretch at Her Majesty's Pleasure, but that's another story). Anyway, this year she has decided to take BOTH of them</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I feel overwhelmed with the sense of freedom. It is so liberating - like a breath of fresh air.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">For the past two days I have been partying with Liam and his new girlfriend, Abbi, who I might add, is a little gem! She hasn't got that 'mad cow' look, like the previous one (Rhino) had.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I have been going to bed at 6.30am and 4.30am and sleeping until 2.00pm. I feel like a 'Singleton' again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Everything is where I left I it. There are no rows, I do not have to think about how to entertain the kids, bribe them to shower, plan meals, constantly clean up, chauffeur around, skivvy, referee, in fact I don't have to think at all!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Oh, how I have missed this! I had forgotten just how pleasant life can be.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">However, this new found freedom has gone to my head a bit. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I went shoe-shopping for TWO hours! (This is unheard of, especially when Olly is with me. 30 mins at the most - he cant take much more than that, especially if we're not shopping for him).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">These are my normal day to day shoes, when its not pissing it down:</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkEW2cC9tcbAJuguvf8kbX0GA5fjwYKsvI_4uxAhsW_lSc3GaSL0ctqgV35ZsixFVfyPouluP4oX0byTTj3FU1jYkAbTY7ExL4KGqzKLKEKI-UhkoKqlVCqz0ZDwQCigT0tIxnfIp0Vc/s1600-h/shoes+001.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370680147491327858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQkEW2cC9tcbAJuguvf8kbX0GA5fjwYKsvI_4uxAhsW_lSc3GaSL0ctqgV35ZsixFVfyPouluP4oX0byTTj3FU1jYkAbTY7ExL4KGqzKLKEKI-UhkoKqlVCqz0ZDwQCigT0tIxnfIp0Vc/s200/shoes+001.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A functional, yet practical pair of flip-flops. Slip them on, kick them off. Easy.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This is what I bought:</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GBa0i3TKNtBrvgV2uAlMxF8quy0eLKmiJC7YJQgeW4a_7e12vqL75xV9VYzUGH7EiE5Gw0_QIfIeLBrqDmzgUl5Yc64EwXc9eRgGeL1OCIq1CN58gaBAXwUW-8gEwykUe3Ix1dKxCzg/s1600-h/shoes+002.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370627087192864722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GBa0i3TKNtBrvgV2uAlMxF8quy0eLKmiJC7YJQgeW4a_7e12vqL75xV9VYzUGH7EiE5Gw0_QIfIeLBrqDmzgUl5Yc64EwXc9eRgGeL1OCIq1CN58gaBAXwUW-8gEwykUe3Ix1dKxCzg/s200/shoes+002.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Look at the frigging heel on that!!! I have gone totally nuts??? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I cant even walk three feet in them, let alone walk down the street.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Do they look like 'Slapper' shoes?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Apparently, this is what I waste my money on when I am giddy with 'freedom'. Eight inch heeled, platformed hooker shoes!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And talking of freedom, I'm not wasting a second of it. I've decided to go with Hubby to Singapore, then on to Sydney and then back to Singapore - all in a week. Only trouble is, I'm not sure I can get back to London, its jammed coming home, so I maybe stuck out there for a bit.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'm not sure if I'll have access to a computer, so if I don't post or comment on your blogs - its not because I don't love you, its because I'm temporarily incapacitated or possibly intoxicated with Singapore Slings! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Still, I'm sure my new 'Slapper' shoes will keep me company. Hopefully they will be on their best behaviour and not show me up by pulling someone for a handful of dollars!</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Venetian Blind Update</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The bloody blinds finally reached The Netherlands. My mother is staying with my sister for a few days so they flew out with her as well as two large tins of water-based paint! I'm surprised they let her on with that lot. Apparently it was all considered as her 'Hold' luggage, so the poor woman had to stuff a week's worth of clothes in a bag considered 'Hand' luggage.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">Exam Update</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I get my results via email between the hours of Monday 6.30pm and Tuesday 1.00am. I will either be a student again on Tuesday, or I will be qualified. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Life is weird isn't it?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In one little day your working life can change.................'Student' equals conformity and 'Qualified' equals freedom. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">xx</span> </p><p><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Exam update: I passed.</span></p><p> </p>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-29766537582732418992009-08-12T12:30:00.003+01:002009-08-12T12:56:08.231+01:00Birdbrained<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwr-ZDPFY4l0CYDmJfzprLw0EknOvLfzOm5tMG5Pn3k7YVHIKKBRbnfoYpt5m5SydIrtsMEc-5kWpVYoFMBDPLVP_ZHJ8Higc6_FaxMOdle-Rz_j_-t0PwGJtpnj2vaqgbv5dadm7COQo/s1600-h/Wacky.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368820005511548738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwr-ZDPFY4l0CYDmJfzprLw0EknOvLfzOm5tMG5Pn3k7YVHIKKBRbnfoYpt5m5SydIrtsMEc-5kWpVYoFMBDPLVP_ZHJ8Higc6_FaxMOdle-Rz_j_-t0PwGJtpnj2vaqgbv5dadm7COQo/s400/Wacky.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I spent a whole Sunday with my deranged parents...sorry, that should read...<em>estranged</em> parents and two of my meddlesome off-spring and I haven't been feeling quite the 'full ticket' since.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I drove a two hundred mile round trip to visit my father, accompanied by my mother, who kept up a constant stream of nonsensical chatter, two kids that argued and fought the whole bloody journey and crammed into the boot/backseat was my sister's 6ft venetian blinds. </span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">(I cant even be bothered to go into the 'blind' story, but needless to say they will probably be the most well-travelled blinds in the world once they reach their destination, which is The Netherlands, because Jaye didn't pay for shipping!).</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I chatted with my mother about blogging and writing and how much fun it is to meet other people. She gave me a withered look and said, 'What do you want to do all that writing for?'</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Because I enjoy it.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: It must take up all your time.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Not really, but I do like it. It's like a hobby.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: You're not being 'groomed' are you?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me <em>(exasperated)</em>: What would I be 'groomed' for?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother: Someone might whisk you away and you'll never be seen again.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me <em>(spluttering with disbelief)</em>: Who is going to 'groom' a 40 year old woman with 3 kids and want to lure her away? </span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">Honestly! Sometimes this woman's mind beggars belief! </span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></em></div><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">After two hours of listening to this kind of crap, it was a relief when we finally arrived at Father's.</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I have not seen him for 3 months because of my study, exam, the students staying with us and generally life getting in the way and it did sadden me to see a deterioration in his physical appearance and his mental health.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">However, despite this and the fact that my parents have now been divorced for about ten years or so, it didn't stop them falling back into their old patterns.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">My father seems to have become besotted with Cliff Richard of recent, and put on a DVD which he turned up full volume and started to click his fingers and dance to.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I was aghast! Cliff sodding Richard, belting out for all and sundry to hear.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Mother turned the volume down by the remote and then Father turned it up again manually. Every time Father turned it up, Mother turned in down. This went on for a good 20 mins, with Father exclaiming, 'What is wrong with this telly? Its not as loud as it used to be'. He'd forgotten there was a remote for it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">My mother has always been a bit sneaky.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">My parents behaviour had captured Olly and Amber's attention, who had now finally stopped bickering, and were watching my parents with amusement. I just rolled my eyes.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We then had to bugger about taking the 6ft venetian blinds out of the car, to fit the back seat back <strong>in</strong> the car, in order to get everyone loaded up and go to the park. It was a right pain and I lost my temper when my fingers got trapped and ranted about how my sister was too tight to pay for shipping costs.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">After much ado, we finally got to the park and it was lovely. Games of cricket, a lake where people were playing with their little motorised boats and a pretty cafe. It took an absolute age to get to the cafe, with father shuffling along at a snails pace and Olly, who kept running off to chase the cricket ball. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I bought lunch and we settled on the grass sunning ourselves. Unfortunately some insect was also hungry and took a flipping bite out of me. My arm has now swollen up to the size of a balloon. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We managed to bundle everyone back in the car, dropped father off at his home and more messing about with those blasted blinds ensued.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We finally said our goodbyes.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: You wont forget we came and took you out will you Dad?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Dad: When?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: Just now.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Dad: Why? Where did we go?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Me: To the park! With the lake and the boats and the cricket.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Dad: Oh, yes! That was nice.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">He had probably forgotten by the time we drove to the end of the street.</span></em></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">On a different note, there has been a lot of unusual activity going on at my neighbours house <em>Nil Points. </em>(See </span><a href="http://rebelmother.blogspot.com/2009/06/got-my-goat.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">Got My Goat</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> for description of irritating neighbour).</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">He has had a lot of visitors, this time in twos or threes. Looked like they were all paying homage to something, bringing gifts of Frankincense and Muir no doubt. I think his wife has dropped their sprog. It could also account for the fact he has not banged on the wall for a week. Finally, he must have something else to occupy his teeny, tiny, bird brain.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I wonder which bird Nil will turn out to be, the one on the left or the one on the right. Either way I'm feeling a tad 'birdbrained'.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span> </div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-73313180606334756092009-08-07T12:00:00.039+01:002009-08-08T17:54:49.467+01:00Clinks, Pinks and Monet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUxoHUkM2idJ5ZoUBmYXdxho33_Q37_JRHOcNhCobi-4q0PBT-13SdQo-62UX_1w7UbYjhpMSEq2p0RDwlmLOIcCccbhWHi7orAn8qJk2Apo-0JNrHw07zYn1jgduDJJt_E0HOTf5sx4/s1600-h/Monet.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 184px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367162491314357026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUxoHUkM2idJ5ZoUBmYXdxho33_Q37_JRHOcNhCobi-4q0PBT-13SdQo-62UX_1w7UbYjhpMSEq2p0RDwlmLOIcCccbhWHi7orAn8qJk2Apo-0JNrHw07zYn1jgduDJJt_E0HOTf5sx4/s400/Monet.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Claude Monet. Waterlilies after 1916 Nympheas.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">On our day trip to London, we were supposed to be going to the </span><a href="http://www.thedungeons.com/en/london-dungeon/index.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">London Dungeons </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">on that 2 for 1 offer via National Rail......bloody rip-off that was! Couldn't even get anywhere near the entrance, the queues trailed all down Tooley Street and around the corner by the traffic lights. Ridiculous!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">However, all was not lost. We traipsed along the South Bank and ended up in </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Clink"><span style="font-family:arial;">'The Clink'</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> prison. When I was little my Nan always used to say to say to me, when I was naughty, - 'you do stuff like that and you'll end up in the Clink!'.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Now I know there was an actual prison called The Clink, I thought it was just east-end slang!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Not much to see just a few chastity belts, thumb screws and a scolds bridle that stops a woman from gossiping! Its all about the girls innit?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">We set off again and I took the kids to into </span><a href="http://www.shakespeares-globe.org/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Shakespeare's Globe Theatre</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">, mainly to use the loo, but it was lovely in there. We peeped through the doors and across the court yard so we could see into the Globe. (They wouldn't let us in because we didn't have tickets). But the kids got a glimpse of the Globe's round stage, which they found interesting because of all the stage work they do.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Then we descended upon the </span><a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Tate Modern</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Past experience has taught me to be a little wary of the Tate, especially with kids in tow, because some exhibits seem to have an unhealthy obsession with sex for some reason!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">However, on the second floor they had an abundance of Pablo Picasso. Amber is very interested in art and she loved </span><a href="http://web.org.uk/picasso/dancers.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">Picasso's Three Dancers</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Then, oh, joy of joys I found a Claude Monet! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">One of my favourite painters.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">When I was twenty-something I nipped over to Paris with my sister to go to the </span><a href="http://www.louvre.fr/llv/commun/home.jsp?bmLocale=en"><span style="font-family:arial;">Louvre</span></a><span style="font-family:arial;"> Museum, they had a Monet exhibition there, however the day we attended there was some bomb threat, so we never got to see the exhibition, and it has always bugged me. We ended up going to the </span><a href="http://www.moulinrouge.fr/home-flash-gb.html"><span style="font-family:arial;">Moulin Rouge </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">instead! </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Seeing Claude Monet's work really made me think.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Had it really taken that long, a zillion years, to finally see something I was interested in? And then to only see it by sheer accident?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Had the arrival of a Hubby, marriage and kids distracted me so much that I forgot my hobbies?</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Apparently so. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;">I am in a 'Clink' of my own!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyway, I thought I would share with you his beautiful work, and I hastily add that that picture, although the painting is not one of his best, does not do it any justice whatsoever!</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;">It was full of pinks and blues and greens and yellows.....truly lovely.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-84077240756279178752009-08-05T00:00:00.003+01:002009-08-05T00:00:02.513+01:00Asperger's Roller Coaster<span style="font-family:arial;">The Asperger's roller coaster of life has hit the Rebel family again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The last few weeks of Olly's primary schooling was extremely difficult. He had lots of plays to do and what with all the impending change at primary school and the change to senior school in September, it all got too much for him.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He freaked out big time. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">This particular incident was shocking - even for me! I thought I had seen everything, but I was mistaken. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I am too ashamed to write a description of the incident. But zero tolerance is exhibited in any country or culture of an incident of this nature. I was appalled enough to threaten him with the police and social services to get him removed from our home. And if it happens again, I will call them. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Sometimes I am at my wits end. You do your absolute best, to try to be a good mother, to raise a child to be a good, law-abiding adult, to lead a happy and successful life, but when a child is on the Autistic Spectrum, quite frankly, you have your work cut out. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I feel like I keep banging my head against a brick wall. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You do all this work, attend appointments, ASC Support groups, get the diagnosis, get a good school for him, get him surrounded by people who, (supposedly), understand him and basically work your bloody arse off in doing what is best for him (and your life becomes his life), then he goes and does something that he could go to prison for. <a href="http://www.nas.org.uk/nas/jsp/polopoly.jsp?d=212">Asperger's Syndrome </a>or no Asperger's Syndrome.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Sometimes I feel like I'm fighting for a lost cause. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Over the last four weeks I have walked on egg-shells for him. Pussy-footed around him, just to get through the last week or so of school. I have bend over backwards trying to keep peace and harmony around him, so he can get through this difficult time and I have never worked so hard in my life!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Even when I had three jobs and studied, nothing is quite as exhausting as Olly.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You would think that he would be happy now, with no school to go to? Well he isn't. He is miserable. A miserable git! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He is attending a holiday club, just in the afternoons for 2 weeks. It barely equates to 3 hours a day. I drop him off late and pick him up early, just so I can do my chores - shopping or house cleaning or some other monotonous crap!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">He seems to think I have a 'jolly' time without him, that I kick up my heels, go dancing, or that he is missing out on something. I have to give him a full description of my 3 hours when I pick him up!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">It beggars belief!!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">And the miserableness is catching..........I cried today because he just stomps around, crashing things about, moaning, always looking like a great thunder cloud is hanging over his head (he has that dark, moody look) and the continual and habitual arguing with his sister.............Its enough to drive a sane person mad and take to the hills!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">However, instead of running for the hills, I have booked a day out tomorrow in London with Hubby and the kids to try to lift morale.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Hopefully, the Asperger's roller coaster will level out slightly. We can but live in hope!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-81181061038183746952009-08-02T02:30:00.001+01:002009-08-02T02:43:52.059+01:00Flying Birds And A Short Joke<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWlx_k3MSvA0Mhb1DUeyu1rIDiqNtUopb7YjaGUI6shmolNwaFsfHxh5vNfmiUqlyymVKqFDIyB7bYNcmqjXE3VSYOVg64QT4EcuLjNGU0Ju3-y0ByDcsBcOSWySNzF1YOoFwjCgAp2E/s1600-h/Ryan+Air.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365173485937041858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWlx_k3MSvA0Mhb1DUeyu1rIDiqNtUopb7YjaGUI6shmolNwaFsfHxh5vNfmiUqlyymVKqFDIyB7bYNcmqjXE3VSYOVg64QT4EcuLjNGU0Ju3-y0ByDcsBcOSWySNzF1YOoFwjCgAp2E/s320/Ryan+Air.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">As I am taking a little flight this month with Hubby (He does not work for any of these airlines, I hastily add), but I wanted to show you who he has to work with!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Ole Madam up there no doubt!</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Yeah, he mentions the poofs but not the birds! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">So, here's a little joke for you.......................</span><br /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>A man was sitting in the bar at Heathrow Terminal 3 and noticed a really beautiful woman sitting next to him. </em></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">He thought to himself: Wow, she's so gorgeous she must be an air hostess. I wonder which airline she works for? </span><br /></em><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>Hoping to pick her up, he leaned towards her and uttered the Delta Airline slogan, "Love to fly and it shows?" </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>She gave him a blank, confused stare and he immediately thought to himself, 'Well, she obviously doesn't work for Delta'. </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>A moment later, another slogan popped into his head, so he leaned towards her again and said, "Something special in the air?" </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>She gave him the same confused look, and he mentally kicked himself, while scratching Singapore Airlines off the list. </em></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>He thought "Perhaps she works for Thai Airways..." and said, "Smooth as Silk?" </em></span></div><br /><div><em><span style="font-family:arial;">This time the woman turned on him and said, "What the F*** do you want?" </span><br /><br /></em></div><div><span style="font-family:arial;"><em>The man smiled, slumped back in his chair, and said - "Ahhhhh, Ryan Air!"</em></span></div><div><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em> </div><div><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em> </div>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1609623021828277111.post-37435188634698371672009-08-02T02:00:00.004+01:002009-08-02T02:16:40.115+01:00Blame Tara Meme<span style="font-family:arial;">The wonderfully Sticky Tara, at </span><a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:arial;">Sticky fingers </span></a><span style="font-family:arial;">has passed on her Meme to me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">What is a Meme?????</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyhow, the Rules are as follows:</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I'd like to get to know you better, answer these questions and pass them on.</span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">1. Who is the hottest movie star?</span></strong><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;">Johnny Depp - I just swoon!<br /></span><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">2. Apart from your house and your car, what is the most expensive item you've ever bought?</span></strong></p><span style="font-family:arial;">Must be tickets to travel somewhere, as I cannot see any items of any value anywhere in this god-forsaken house! A burglar would be most disappointed.</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">3. What is your most treasured memory</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Giving birth 3 times and knowing that I will never ever have to do that again! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">4. What is the best gift you received as a child?</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Having known my Maternal grandparents for 17 years. I wouldn't have missed that for the world. Fabulous people. And having my friend Lou. Still mates after god-knows how many years. </span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">5. What's the biggest mistake you've made?</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Cant one have 3 mistakes? (oops)</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">6. 4 words to describe yourself</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">??</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">???</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">????</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Enough or do you want more! How can you ever describe yourself? I think the other people are more qualified!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>7. What was your highlight or low light of 2008?</strong> </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Highlight - miserable old grandad (the other one) popped his cloggs - Low light - he stiffed my father for his inheritance and my aunt tried to hide what he did have.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">With lawyers and solicitors I got it back for him.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">8. Favourite film</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Gone with the Wind......I shall never go hungry again!</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">9. Tell me one thing I don't know about you</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I was born in East London.</span><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">10. If you were a comic book/strip or cartoon character who would you be?</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Beryl the Peril.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">OK, so pass it on:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://www.amodernmother.com/">A Modern Mother</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Amy At <a href="http://and1moremeansfour.blogspot.com/">And1moremeans4fou</a>r</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The Ice Queen over at <a href="http://theconstantchill.blogspot.com/">the Constant Chill Factor</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Dottie at <a href="http://bringingupcharlie.blogspot.com/">Bringing up charlie</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://ravingmarysragepage.blogspot.com/">Woman at work </a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://http//www.jobeaufoix.com/">Jo Beauxfoix</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Miss Leslieanne at <a href="http://lifewithalittledude.blogspot.com/">life with a little dude</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Fraught Mummy at <a href="http://britsinbosnia.blogspot.com/">Brits in Bosnia</a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://fragrantliar.blogspot.com/">Fragrant Liar </a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"><a href="http://emilybassin.blogspot.com/">Maternal Tales </a></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Right, that's another one done. I've got another to do - but I really don't know how to answer it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">PS My pizza arrived one hour and 45 Min's late!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span>Rebel Motherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01617410633976239554noreply@blogger.com9