......

......
I want to be that mother who can stand up and say I am a strong confident mother and I know what is best for my children. We breastfeed and co sleep, We listen, We include, We eat chocolate and snot smoothies, we trampoline and grow frogs, we sling, we carry and we try and understand and work with our children without resorting to punishments, threats or coercion.

Thursday 11 September 2014

Silver Cloud and shit like that

FuckitybuggerybastardybollockyfuckshitearsewipeS

That fucking impending doom of shite other foot dropping bollox that I have been feeling has finally happened. After finding out a good friend died suddenly on Monday, I thought maybe that was is, but I knew it wasn't.  I had always known she would die, I have a whole book I could write about her.  It will have to wait now. She was unbelievable.  We all loved her. 


Anyway, I tried to ignore the feeling. I tried to excuse it as collywobbles and past insecure experiences. I was going to write a blog post about the feeling and how I was really trying embrace the fucking positive and get over old scripts. How I was overcoming my insecurities and living my life again. I should have listened to my instincts. 

He wants us out in January.  He hasn't given a proper reason says it's too much hassle. Basically, he doesn't have to give a reason. He's not renewing the lease.

Now to find something better than this place which has damp problems, a shitty sink drainer that pools, a tiny gap to get out of the kitchen and no fucking space on the counters, insecure living arrangements that could be terminated at any time with one months notice AND FUCK YOU COLERAINE!!


I'm over the shock. I'm going to make it work. I just hope the girls can cope. Fuck I was just starting to feel almost ok again. Not depressed, stressed and sad. I hope this works out. At least we made the move out of suburgatory. We are in the country now and we are staying. 



He told me to be a real mother and take my kids to the play park and to get a gate to lock them in. He complained about everything and wanted his garden in better condition than when we got it.  He has NO idea about raising children consciously and has way too high expectations. If you ever hear of someone thinking of moving to MosCOW, steer them clear. Tell them to run a mile. Don't even imagine you could try and make it work. 

Moving ultimately is the best plan it's just such a fucking nightmare!


I want to trash the fucking garden. I spent practically the whole day there yesterday. I'm gonna dump the weeds back in. The fucker.  

So up yours farmer grumpy. You can swivel on your fly infested, damp smelling, manky water house. 

The Berlow-Jackson's are moving in to better pastures. 

I knew the chocolate cake would come in handy!








Meltdowns - increasing
Losing the Plot - on the up
Breastfeeding - thinking about a playground flashmob :0

No comments:

Post a Comment