This is just to say…

I’M SO SORRY DAVE.

I am a horrible, awful, terrible, bad girlfriend. I know this.

But I also know that I still love you, and I will always.

And NOW will you talk to me again? Please.

Thanks Angel for the pic.

Three poems for Jackson, Love Mama

When the injustice of the world
Gets too much for you.
You lie on the floor, screeching.
Arms and legs flapping around
Looking for all the world like a fish out of water.
Which is funny because watching you,
that’s exactly how I feel.

***

Everyday you leave me presents.
Always the same thing,
In the same place.
Always packaged the same.

It’s so sweet of you but
Man, I can’t wait for you to learn how to flush the toilet.

***

It is incredible for me to see so much of myself in you.
Yet there is also much of you I recognise in me.
For instance -
Sometimes I also shout: NO I DON’T WANT TO.
Before the person I’m talking to
Has even finished their sentence.

***

Step inside

So I promised you jam, but instead here’s something else. A personal treat for you from me.

I kind of haven’t been feeling myself recently. Been feeling insecure and uncomfortable. It’s an ugly thing insecurity. It takes seed in your soul and then it grows and grows and you can’t escape it and you start to project it and people start to notice.

I’m not entirely sure where it’s coming from or even why, but all I do know that I don’t really want people to notice so I withdraw and shut everyone out and this is the only way I feel that I can get through. And that’s no way to live.

I think that maybe the choices I am making right now are making me miserable and let’s face it, being miserable is the most stupid choice there is. So I look for the parts that made me happy, the parts that filled me with, you know, rapture – and it always comes back to motherhood. Beautiful pointless things, things like watching my son sleep or playing in the bath, things that I don’t do anymore because I have lost my focus. And then I know there is only one answer. But that answer kind of makes me miserable too.

So I’m going to avoid things and people and stuff for a little bit longer – at least for tonight maybe – and I’m going to listen to some Morrissey because like a friend once told me there is no one more depressed than Morrissey. So that’s gotta make me happy, right?

POSTPONED

So I’ve had to do it. I’ve moved Jackson’s birthday party to the following weekend. I am a wimp and I cannot face 40+ kids in my house with no pool to keep them entertained.

This does mean, however, that lots of people can’t come *sad face*. But it ALSO means that the 24 bottles of sparkly wine will be divided by fewer people *happy face*.

And the lesson I have learnt from this, is that you just can’t control the weather.

You like the invitation I made?

On another note, my blogging has been sporadic at best recently – and that, my friends, is because I am working so hard. (DAD, I HOPE YOU ARE READING THIS).

Tomorrow is Friday though and it is illegal to work hard on a Friday, right? So I shall update you all on our adventures in jam making. That’s right: JAM MAKING. Awesome JAM MAKING. Hold on to your seats there folks.

hello

Hello there new person back reading my blog – there’s loads more on this site, that’s not here on wordpress. It didn’t export properly…

Whether the weather

The weather forecast for Jackson’s birthday party is not looking good. In fact every time I check (obsessively) it seems to drop another degree.

So here are my choices: change party to Sunday or change from swimming party to painting party or just make sure I drink enough champagne that I no longer see grey clouds – only blue skies and sunbeams.

What do you think?

Nose cam – I kinda like it. Bit of a relief that it’s pretty clean up there.

Happy Birthday Kid

Dear Kid

You will always be one of my favourites.

Have a great birthday

Love Jackson

xxx

Really, really, ridiculously good looking*

I am right, right? It’s not just because I’m his mama and I have to think that?

*Gotta be filed under the-funniest-movie-ever-especially-when-you’re-stoned, no? Along with Happy Gilmore and So I Married an Axe Murderer.

I love your smile, it makes me happy

You may remember me mentioning my good friend Faye and her son Nicholas (ha ha. you really should check out that link) who is two days older than Jackson and has therefore known him all his life. You do? Good.

Anyway, Faye wrote on her blog how Nicholas loves charts and that they have now started a countdown chart to his birthday. I thought this was brilliant, and never afraid to steal and idea or seven thousand, I rushed off and bought card and stars and pens and everything else that you need to make the most awesome sticker chart ever, ever, ever.

And then last night after supper and bath I was all: “and now we have a special treat for you my baby, we’re going to make a…STICKER CHART TO COUNTDOWN TO YOUR BIRTHDAY. YAY. YAY. YAY.”

I got everything out and ready, got Jackson to sit down at the table with me and we began making the most awesome sticker chart in the world ever, ever, ever.

Well, I did at least. Jackson reluctantly stuck two silver stars on then informed me that sticker charts MADE HIM FEEL SICK and that he was going to play with his dinosaurs.

PS. Yesterday’s post was just an embarrassing stream of emo consciousness, believe me you really DO NOT want to read it.

Protected: You can grow flowers from where dirt used to be

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password: