First up: our amazing life since I changed jobs. This morning when my alarm went off I took my time waking up (love that snooze button); cuddled Greebo and Taxi a little; then I woke Damien; got him started on getting dressed; went to the kitchen; cuddled Greebo and Taxi a little more; made Damien’s oats porridge; while he ate I made his school sandwiches and packed them in his suitcase; signed his homework diary; he went to brush his teeth; I fed the furry masters and refreshed their water; I made myself a cup of coffee; we did our “teens” bible study and said our prayers; he left on time to meet his lift downstairs; I went back to my bed to do my bible study (fabulous book called “Strong At The Broken Places”) and say my prayers; read my book for five minutes; went to the bathroom to do the face thing; laughed at Greebo who was smirking at Taxi playing in the bath; brushed my teeth; got dressed; and left for work. Now compare that to five months ago, when I was working (officially) 6am to 2pm (but actually till I “finished”* whatever time that might have been). It was a nightmare. I was up at 4:30am, and out of the door by 5:20am in a mad dash to drop Damien at my mother’s house by 5:30am and get to work on time. Damien would still be asleep, in his jammies, with a bag packed for granny’s house (school uniform and toothbrush and all) as well as his school bags and such. He wouldn’t remember me tucking him in again or kissing him goodbye. The first time I saw him “conscious” everyday was when I fetched him from school. Aside from him and I not seeing each other in the morning, the impact on my parents life was huge too. They had to become pseudo-parents in the morning because Damien can’t be woken up and told to get ready for school, he has to be “monitored” and nagged. So my folks had to get up that much earlier to get MY child dressed, fed and ready for his lift to school. Then once a month Damien would get all weepy and tearful and argumentative about me not being able to let him sleep a little later and feed him and get him dressed resulting in both of us having a REALLY bad day, with me worrying about him and him distracted and uncooperative. My bosses way back then didn’t give me any option when they changed my hours either- it was quite literally “fit in or f* off”. This went on for three years. Now Damien and I are both much happier, and he started doing better at school.
Second up: Terry Pratchett. I just finished “The Wee Free Men” (library book, don’t own it yet) and it is LITERALLY hysterical (‘scuse the pun)! I give it a solid “four asthma pump” rating, since that’s about how many I used reading the book whilst suffering from laughter induced asthma attacks (‘coz I laugh like the Disney bulldog* sad isn’t it). Now I HAVE to buy it so I can read it to Damien at bedtime (yup, my 14yo baby still likes bedtime stories). It came out a while ago, and its sequel “A Hat Full Of Sky” has also come out, but since books are so bloody expensive here I haven’t bought either one yet- I have slowly bought most of the other Discworld books in paperback. Both “Wee Free Men” and “Hat Full Of Sky” are part of his children’s books range (along with the “Johnny*” collection and “The Amazing Maurice And His Educated Rodents” which is a brilliantly twisted version of the pied piper), but I love Pterry’s books, his imagination and satirical humour is like medicine for me! If you can, get a look at “The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke”, it’s the painting that inspired Pterry’s book.
And thirdly: rudeness. Whatever happened to replying to an invitation- be it “yay” OR “nay”? To me it doesn’t matter how the invitation is received, be it a text message; an email; via snail mail or a verbal invite- eventually you have to either accept or reject it, especially if it’s from someone you consider a friend. I DON’T see the necessity to explain anything if you say “nay”, but at least let the person know what you decide! The last while I have received nothing in response to invitations… get this, I sent out 20 emails and 8 text message invites to 28 women for our monthly ladies movie night. I have received 2 replies, count them- one, two! I mean come on people! These are all grownups with their own phones, jobs, cars, homes (for the most part), etc. these are not children who have to wait for mommy to get back to them. And to top it all- they get the same sort of invitation at least once a month, so it’s not like it’s news to them* is it just me, is it okay not to reply to me- BECAUSE I’m “good old me” or what’s the story here?
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.