Back once again.

It's been a while.  I can't tell you how many times I've thought of something to write about in my Blog and have either not got round to doing it or have started a post and not finished.  However I am now living out of  my beloved London and have time in the day to write as the boys are at school, so I am really going to try and made this a regular thing.  If it never gets read then that's fine, but I do think I need to try and have some sort of outlet for my thoughts and feelings and this seems a good place.

The boys started their new school last Friday.  As  watched them walk off in a line to their new classroom with their new classmates I had a few tears, as did John.  I marvelled at their braveness.  They just went.  Having to spend a day with 30 total strangers, and whilst I know they won't be strangers for long, I just thought what good boys they are.  I know lots of children have this lack of fear and even though Ben (Sam literally went off without saying goodbye, he was that keen) had a few tears on the Monday, he did it. He went, and by home time he had acquired a girlfriend.

I spoke briefly with Ben's teacher this morning, who told me how bright Ben was and that he's had to order new reading books for him as he can already read the top level.  I'm not saying this to boast or gloat about him, but Ben's achievements always tug at my heart.  Ben was the little baby who was thought to be Down Syndrome.  It took a year of check ups and assessments to rule out that he wasn't.  Both boys according to scans and pre-natal checks had soft markers for DS and when Ben was born, he still had them.  The main one being his hand.  On your palm you have two lines/creases close to the top.  Down syndrome children usually have one straight line.  A Junior doctor also stated that Ben looked a bit floppy.  A consultant was paged and said he didn't think Ben had DS, but we would need to keep an eye on him.  And that we did.  I don't think Ben looked DS and after extensive Internet research I really couldn't see that he was, but I looked at him everyday and monitored his development.

So as I see him developing into this little boy who loves to read, I'm reminded of that difficult year and proud of my son.

By the way, the hand line marker is hereditary in some families.  One night whilst rubbing cream into her hands my Mum discovered she had the 'one line', as do other people on her side.

I have fallen in Love.

Is anyone else watching Pineapple Dance Studios? It's another brilliant reality TV show, but there is one reason and one reason only that I love it as much as I do. Louie.

He is without doubt utterly amazingly fantastic and if this man does not get his own show, off the back of this, then the world has gone mad. M-A-D. Every time I see him, I want to work at Pineapple Studios. It would have to be work, because I need to spend all day every day with him. Having an out of work friendship would not allow me enough Louie time. I think all the people who work with him love him too. He is so full of energy & wit and the most amazing sarcasm. He is also the most talented dancer. I caught the latest episode last night as I missed it on Sunday. There was an audition for a dance troop (I dance troop, I ask you - how fantastically 80's) and he out danced all the teenagers who were there. It was also brilliant that they played the music from the rehearsal scenes in 'Staying Alive', one of my most favourite films. Ever. Louie back flipped and spun so much so that he 'ruptured his spleen.' His words. What differentiated him from all the younger models was his passion and strength and clear technique. His dancing was artistic and a discipline.

The funniest moment was when he took the camera crew up on the roof. A place he wasn't supposed to be. The next few scenes, where passing police cars and helicopters were looming, were beyond funny.

How lovely to see this man on our television screens. The world is full of such mean and miserable people, that just knowing he exists and will be a work today making others laugh, lifts my spirits.

There is another terribly camp man on this programme, who is also funny, but to laugh at and not with. I don't dislike him, but am amused at how self obsessed he is. He is the lead singer in a group called 'Starman' and spends a lit of time telling us how talented he is. He may well be, but I'd like to decide for myself. Their manager is not the most dynamic of people. I get the impression this is the first time he's done this. He had booked a studio for the to do a photo shoot in and when they arrived said 'It looked bigger on the internet' and wanted to cancel the whole thing. It seemed slightly amateurish. Why didn't he look at the studio first or at least phone and ask for dimensions? I can see him being dropped, not before long.

I cannot wait until the next episode on Sunday, just to have my heart warmed by dear, lovely Louie.

Let down....again.

I cannot describe how awful I feel when I'm let down, but those who are supposed to love me. It's a feeling that is so deep within me, that takes control of my whole body and it takes all my energy not to buckle at the knees and fall down.

I didn't buckle this time. We all know how I have been let down in the past and how I have chosen to forgive behaviour and move on with our lives.

It wasn't really what had been done, but the potential of what was evolving. I know where these things can lead to. It's the deceit and the blatant secrecy that sickens me....I also to question the intelligence. How stupid do you have to be to keep getting caught? Don't text when I am upstairs. Turn your phone off, when your children and I are all within twenty feet. I have been deceitful in the past and know of others who have been also, but have some wit about you and keep things secret. If you want to do what you are doing so much. Maybe there is an element of wanting to be caught. An inability to stop himself, which needs me to discover the sordid truth and put an end to it. Maybe that's a bit too clever and it's just a matter of being stupid.

I am yet to forgive these lies. Although technically it's not lying as when confronted, it was all blurted out. It was sneaky and disrespectful. I think that's why this time I feel so emotionally detached from it. The lack of respect on their part has made me totally apathetic to the pathectic. The second I found out and after smashing the prized, framed photo on the wall, I stopped having feelings. Just contempt. I just fell out of love.

Do I stay? Yes. I'm sure I will. Will I forgive? Not sure. Do I care anymore? Not about him, no.

Do I deserve better? Yes.

I suppose it's just a matter of getting on with life and now really realising, that there is no happy ending. Just an ending.

Ten sleeps til Christmas.

I love that the boys work out when events will happen, by how many sleeps are left. It's a recently new thing to me. I don't know where it comes from or if indeed it's been around forever, but I first heard the term about 4 years ago. I think it's fantastic and so innocent. It is hard to believe that this time next week we will be getting ready for our trip down to London. I'm so excited about spending Christmas with all my family. This is the first Christmas we will all have together since 2005. Alice is here, Jean-Francois will have his first cold Christmas (i think) and we are all together as a family. There's one person missing. Dad loved Christmas. There was always the obligatory row between me and him, but apart from that, it was usually a lovely time. There was a period when his business was doing well and he would be incredibly generous. I remember him loving getting us Christmas Crackers made up from a certain shop on Bond Street. This was something he would go and do on his own. The rest of the shopping was down to Mum. It was his thing. He only did a couple of times as it was a luxury and couldn't be maintained, but as lovely as the gift was, it was knowing he'd done it for us that was the real present.

John and I have not done ANY Christmas shopping. We've decided to do it all on Christmas Eve. This is something I have always done, but since meeting John and having the children I have been better at planning ahead. There are two reasons for this decision. The first is that we don't want to bring a load of stuff down on the train and the second is John gets paid on the 24th. Plus it's not really the same having bought things before then. If I'm not rushing round the shops sweating and having major strops, then I'm sorry, it's just not Christmas. The question is where to go. I have yet to visit Westfield. Has anyone been? Or do I stick to my dear old friend, Brent Cross? I'm a bit scared of Westfield. Is it too big? I don't know why I'm scared. I bloody love shopping. I could shop every day and never get bored. I never have enough stuff. If I had the money I'd have everything and then some more. I am a total consumer. If it's bright and shiney, it'll make me happy. Of course it won't..... (it will.)

I have no idea what I'm getting anybody, but I always seem to find presents and in my opinion, really amazing ones. Not expensive, just apt and thoughtful. Maybe that's a matter of knowing the person well enough and a little luck. I don't buy lots of presents, just close family. Next year I may start buying presents for Christmas as and when I see them. Whatever time of year it may be. I often see things for you girls and think you'd like it. Lets see what happens next year. Although don't expect anything, as ultimately I really doubt I will do this.

Friday is the last day of term. When they go back it won't be long until I need to put in the applications for them to move up to Primary one (Reception). School. SCHOOL? I can't bear it. What will I do? I know I'll get a job. But doing what? Where? What can I do? I've forgotten? I've got til August to think about, but the way in which time is passing by, it'll be here before I've amended my CV to say 'Married'. I know ideally I'd like to retrain as a counsellor, but I'm fundamentally lazy and the thought of assignments and projects fills me with dread. I will look into it and see if I can do it whilst doing a job that will help pay the bills in the mean time. Will be nice to earn a bit of cash again. As wonderful as it is being supported by John, I would like to contribute to the finances. Although if you actually paid me for the hours I worked as a child carer, cleaner, cook, chauffeur etc I'd probably be on about a hundred grand a year, as would we all.

Now that I've been doing Avon for a little while I've started using their products more and more. I'm not just saying this, but some of their stuff is amazing. I've been using some of the samples I ordered and their Anew beauty serum is the most amazing cream. It's aimed at a more mature skin, but I've never felt my skin so soft. It's much better than Protect and Perfect (amber). I've had a go on their eye cream as my bags are starting to develop. I've also been using a primer before I put my make-up on. I keep reading how you should and it makes your make up look better, blah blah, but I have to admit it's true and the Avon one is lovely. I can't wait for my next order.

We had John's work Christmas party on Friday. I had a really good evening, but alcohol, me and diabetes don't mix well. I was ok until the end of the evening, where I had a hypo. I wasn't that drunk but I don't remember much and I've never been one to loose my memory when out on the lash. So will knock the excess on the head, which is fine. I rarely have been drunk since the boys were born.

I wore a dress which I felt comfortable and smart in, but it was quite low cut. I wasn't too worried, but at the last minute I decided to wear a corset just to hold me in better. While standing, this was fine, but when sat at the dinner table the corset literally pushed my breasts up to my ears. Poor, poor Colin, who was sitting opposite, didn't know where to look and I had to apologise to him and his lovely girlfriend Deborah for the excess cleavage. I think I put a napkin over the offending area at one point. As soon as I could get up and dance, I did.

Since moving to Kintore I've made friends with one of the other directors wives. She's a funny fish, but we get on and as I have no friends I'm in no position to be picky. She had taken a photo of John and I and text me the next morning asking for my e-mail address. Her words were '...cos I have a lovely photo of you and john.' She's one of those people who you know is lying. My God, I look awful. Awful. I e-mailed back and told her so. She must have known as she said 'It's just the dress.' Thanks-a-fucking-lot. Not, 'No, you look fine.' She agreed, but blamed the dress. I've added her on Facebook. She really thinks she's the dog bollocks. Good luck to her. Keep an eye for her photo's. I'll comment on them so you can have a nose.

I should go. I'm supposed to be making soup. I have never done this before, but feel I should now I'm Scottish. It's been non-stop drizzle here. Hope it doesn't freeze tonight.

Love you all

S

x

I feel very teary.

Am feeling sorry for myself and I hate it. I just want to cry and I also want to punch myself in the face as I have nothing to cry about.

I had an appointment with the diabetic consultant this morning and it kind of scared me. It shouldn't have, but as I am coping with my sugar levels and insulin intake more and more, I am also being made more aware of how diabetes can affect my health. The Dr explained today about how my organs can be affected by not keeping my sugar down and I just became really scared. I actually thought 'This is going to kill me.' My sugar is down and if I carry on the way I am I should be ok, but I get these panicky moments. I get scared of dying and leaving the boys without a Mum. My grandfather had type I diabetes and lived till he was 80. There is nothing for me to be scared off. I think I just get daunted.

It's ok at the moment, as I'm relatively young and in general good health, but what happens as I get older? I'm scared of getting swine flu. That could kill me....see I'm just being an utter arse.

The boys did their Christmas concert at nursery today. They all sang lots of Christmas songs and I cried. I don't think I've ever been quite so proud of them. There were a lot of parents there and it must have been overwhelming for them, but they didn't get upset. They just both sang their little hearts out. Afterwards I had to take them to the medical centre for their booster MMR injections. Ben went first and didn't make a sound. Sam however point blank refused to have it of his own free will, so we had to use some force, which I hate, but had to do. He absolutely screamed his head off, was furious with both John and I, then proceeded to walk through reception and to the car crying at full volume. Not even chocolate could calm him. He is now playing on the Wii and all seems to be ok. A quick recovery considering he was convinced his arm would never stop hurting.

Think of me tomorrow at the holiday inn for John's work do....looks grrrrrreat!

Sorry for moaning.

S

x

Happy 4th Birthday.....

Yesterday B & S celebrated their fourth birthday. I cannot tell you what a great day we all had. They are really at an age where they totally understand what is going on and get excited about it. They woke later than normal which we found rather odd and ran downstairs looking to see if I had decorated the house with balloons as requested by B. I did my best and spent the evening before blowing up 45 balloons. J was no help at all, stating 'he couldn't do it'. Pathetic. I was glad I made the effort as B literally squealed as he walked into the living room. Balloons and presents ahoy.

We had a great morning and really seemed to love what we bought them. We were careful this year not to buy any old tat and got things they had shown an interest in. I think their favourite present is 'Kerplunk.' I love it. They love a game that we played as children. Obviously it's not the same as our version. I'm sure the sticks in the 70's/80's were sharp and they were no way near as flimsy. They now have cottoned on to how you actually play. Initially the fun was to get all the marbles to fall. No they both seem to have developed their own little strategy's.

They also got a game for the wii. I have recently started to let them play on the wii, despite my 'Our children are never playing computer games' view. I, however, like the wii as it's not shooting zombie type games, but sport based pursuits. I love watching them as they play the cow racing game. When they first started playing this one, they quickly worked out you could make the cows jump and I have never heard such hearty laughter whilst they screamed 'Bouncy, bouncy.' Alice bought the the wii sports resort game and tonight we got going with it. They wanted to do canoeing and again were absolutely in hysterics. I think the scariest thing is they have learnt how to work the controls and change the menu options. They'll be hacking into the MoD mainframe computer system before I know it.

We decided not to throw them a party. I really didn't want twenty five children, who I don't know from nursery around our house. I don't care if I sound miserable. It seems you have to invite the whole class if you have a party and I'm not about to do that. Instead we took them bowling. They bloody loved it. As did we all. Mum was with us. Can I just say Mum, who, in her words, hasn't been bowling for about thirty years, got a strike on her first bowl.... this was after she'd got a 'par' on the wii golf the night before (I don't really know what that means, but it's good) and she has never held a golf club in her life. It was the funniest thing. I am definitely taking them again. They played properly, took it in turns and there was not one fight or argument. S wanted to return to the bowling alley this morning, but I had to explain, nursery came first.

Before we went out the boys from next door popped in for a slice of birthday cake with their mum. My neighbour is so nice. She really is a lovely lady and her kids are great. B & S love them.

I felt so different yesterday. I think I felt like a grown up. I didn't spend ALL day shouting at them to behave or dragging them to do things. Something just clicked and we all laughed and had fun. Happy Birthday B & S. You rock x

No other real news. I have very high shoes to wear for John's Christmas party. Stupidly high. I think I'll last three minutes in them, but I miss heels, so am prepared to give them a go. Avon stuff arrives on Friday. I can't wait. Mum is here until the weekend and before you know it, we'll be back for Christmas....

I love you all

Sally

xxx

Parties of tat...

I think I shall try and write a cheery blog as the last few have been a bit sad or indeed a harsh insight into my insecurities and mental fuck-ups. Lets go for a little light heartedness, shall we?

I got invited to a Jewellery party at Pamela's from number 35 and it all happened last Thursday. I was quite looking forward to it and imagined I would purchase a key piece of tasteful and simple silver. WRONG. Pamela is a lovely lady who I met on the trick or treating night out and I was touched she invited me. I went over, fashionably late, armed with a rather tasty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (on special in Asda, shhhh!) and Pamela looked at me as if I had presented me with a bottle of Colombian virgin's blood. Do people in Scotland not arrive with a little something for the host? Once that was out the way we went into the living room. I was the last to arrive and a hush fell. I recognised a mum from the nursery who always ignores me, but as I was so pleased to see a familiar face I said 'Hello' to her in the most over animated fashion. Almost children's TV league. I then searched for somewhere to sit and one of the ladies selling the jewellery offered me her seat, which I took.

In the corner of the room was a trestle table covered in boxes and displays of the items on sale. Even from a distance I could tell it was cheap and awful and lo and behold, at close range it was just as revolting. However, I was clearly the only one that thought this. They were buying whacks of the stuff. I panicked. Was it me? Had missed all the good stuff. Each woman had three or four pieces as I struggled to find one thing I would immediately throw in the bin. Plus this stuff was not cheap. I wish I had the balls to not have bought anything, but in a desperate bid to fit in I found a bracelet that was quite nice and something Mum would like. It was literally the one nice piece. The type of stuff on sale was brooches in the shape of 'elegant hands' or musical notes, covered in diamante. God, it was just the worst costume jewellery. Who makes this stuff? My contribution to the evening was a fiver. The other ladies were spending about twenty pounds. I thought about spending more and then thought, no. This is shit. I did have a bit of a chat and Pamela, who wasn't actually selling it, just hosting, is a really nice lady and easy to talk to.

I also got speaking to Julie who is mother to triplet girls, who live opposite. Julie and her husband had IVF and whilst only two embryo's were planted, one split. She was very funny and down to earth and we had a laugh about the joys of having multiples and exchanged stories of children escaping and pooing their pants. I told her to knock anytime. It's hard making friends when you have none, as I always feel I sound a tad desperate and slightly high pitched. Plus I don't think anyone actually could like me. Especially up here. I worry they all think I'm a stuck up southerner. I don't think I do anything that would make them think this, other than having a sticker on my car that reads 'Scotland is shite.'

I don't seem to having any luck at posting photo's on here, but there are some recent ones on the flickr website. The latest are of a rather windy afternoon at the beach. I forget how close to the coast we are sometimes. Whilst it looks as cold as cold can be, it is rather a nice beach. I think it can be busy in the summer. I have no desire to go swimming but look forward to a few beach picnics.

Is anyone else watching 'I'm a celebrity...'? I'm loving most of the celebs, but George Hamiliton is hilarious. Who knew? The only person I REALLY dislike is Joe Bugner. He's scares me. A very odd man.

It's been another lovely week here in Kintore. We've missed the floods, luckily and had a few days of cold and sunshine. I hope you are all well and happy.

Love

Sally

xxx