Love the crazy mean people again

I have this massive almost sometimes debilitating fear that people I dont know very well, but see almost daily (so IRL...in real life) don't like me and that I have done something to upset them and then I have this GREAT urge to talk to the person, apologise for anything I have ever said or done or thought incase I did, say or think something that might have upset them.  It's a vibe I get....you know you can just tell....stink eye.

Then I go through phases of thinking fuck it who cares. It's their issue with whatever I was saying. Transference, it's about something else. We all live differently. I've got nothing to apologise for...it's me not them. 

Then I don't want to be thought of as someone who hurts other people's feelings. I don't like it when it happens to me.

Why do I have this need for people I hardly know to like me? I'm already stressing about the people I do know and wether I've upset them in any way...I don't need it with strangers!!!!

I think I'm basically top of the needy chain..but I'm not sure what I need. It's not a comfortable place to be.

I don't want my kids growing up feeling like they need to apologise for themselves all the time. Like they might have done something wrong for having a different way of looking at life. I want them to feel freer and happier with who they are and be around people who are kind and understanding. I want them to feel confident and happy with who they are but not in a mean way.

I try to be that for them but I know they are learning meanness from me because some days it's not easy and some days I am mean to them. Hopefully they are also learning how to apologise and know when to.

I tell my kids that consistently grown up mean people sometimes didn't have enough love around them growing up and probably just need a hug from their mummy or daddy. People who are sometimes mean are maybe having a hard time at home or they are tired or hungry. I try to help them understand it from their side and hopefully that's helping them not feel it's their fault all the time. Sometimes it is....believe me sometimes it is their bloody inconsiderate unhelpful ungrateful fault!!!

Sometimes I say they weren't breastfed as a baby..you know, cos I like being controversial... 😜

Love the crazy mean people. I'm one of them sometimes. Love me. Love me. Love me. Like me? Ok just be civil to me at the very least. It must be exhausting giving me your negative vibes all the time.

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

Lesson '#613 Don't Leave Pesach till 3days before

So, about 11am I finally had two dressed and slightly fed (with snot smoothie icecream) children.  I sucked it up and braved another shop in Asda for some last minute Pesach needed items.  My plan was to get 6 things, we even had a list, pop into the fruit shop grab some horseradish and leave, get home with plenty of time for 'Pesaching 'out the kitchen. YEAH HA!!   

Even getting into the car took less than the usual time so I really did feel I was onto a winner here.  Maia was busy organising a tupperware of bran flakes and Ellie was chatting up the plasterer next door..in no time we were on our way. 

We arrived in the underground car park of Asda and Ellie had a minor argument with Maia (can't even remember what now) and ran off up the ramp towards the shopping centre when I tried to talk to her about it.  She waited just round the corner till she saw me and when I tried to talk to her again, she ran off again.  I wasn't worried about her running off and knew it was just because she didn't want to talk to me.  I found her inside all pleased with herself and telling me she had 'stopped and waited right her for you mummy'.  I went down to her level and 'blah blah blahed' whilst she avoided looking at me, you know the usual stuff!!

Right, next...walking past the early learning centre with the intent of shopping. HA. Maia had already spied it and was in like a shot with Ellie bringing up the rear and 'telling on' Maia for going in.  I said OK 5 mins whilst I run across to Holland and Barrett.  I love that I am able to do this now and know they will stay in the shop.  Not sure how much the shop assistants love it!  Had short chat with friend I'd bumped into in Holland and Barrett, didn't get what I was looking for....which in turn didn't show up my one fatal error.

Back to ELC where I spent a while trying to gently persuade the girls to leave after many 'I'm not ready yet's, I decided to go with the pick up and leave technique with confidence of our  next goal.  To my amazement, the upset was minimal and distracted by trolley obtaining.

OK so here is where my shopping trip starts to break down.  As mentioned before I often have trouble balancing their need to 'shop' with my need to SHOP.  They had both decided to be in the trolley...yay..I thought, until Maia spotted a basket and wanted out, to fill it.  If you ever see random things on  wrong shelves and wonder how they got there, its probably from me putting things back that Maia decided she needs to buy.  So now I have one child in the trolley who is helping me by throwing them into the trolley and one child pushing basket around choosing her own things.   Half way down the FIRST aisle, Ellie decided she needed the toilet, so I spend the next 10minutes trying to get to the toilet on the other side of shop, whilst Ellie grabbed things she could reach and NEEDED (sunglasses, jewellery, more pears) with Maia still pushing and filling her basket and disappearing behind us every so often...I reassess my time frame.  Ensconce Ellie on the disabled toilet, leave door open and search for Maia who has made it to the last stretch minus a few peoples ankles.

(in the days when staying in trolley was easier)

Decide to be firm with basket and said items and leave it in toilet (sorry asda), state my intentions once again for this to be a quick (rofl) shop, in out get what we need and go, explain that yes sometimes we get to take longer but today is not the day (Ha) and start shopping again with two children unhappily settled in trolley, passing everything saying cna we get this can we get this oh this, oh this.. manage to swap scary looking 3 strawberry cheesecake packet with Peppa Pig small chocolates and have at least 5minutes thinking time to get a few more items (now way more than my intended list of course!). Half way round, Maia wants out again and as she can climb in and out herself and I am not about to force her (as if I could anyway) to stay in trolley, she comes down.  Have ingenious idea to hang Maia from the handlebar and zoom through aisles we don't need to be in much to the dismay of several shoppers. What? We stopped before we hit you. What's the problem?  

Ellie finds herself some staff and asks for olives, the kind man was slightly bemused at having to direct a 4yr old but took it all in his stride, especially when once we arrived at olive area, Ellie then starts specifying her colour preference.  We have a conversation with a lady about what was wrong with her finger..chopping accident..and finally make it to the checkout.  OH BLOODY ASDA so many sweeties and chocolates at the checkout....I thought this had been banned??  

Leave Ellie in the  trolley unloading, to find some dishwasher tablets with Maia and return to find several dotted chocolate items all over conveyor belt, then spent what could have been hilarious 10minutes, (hilarious if it had been filmed and watched by other people) loading food onto conveyor belt whilst the girls picked up EVERY item of sweetie and chocolate at their easy hand reach, put it on the belt and me putting it back or shouting to checkout lady, we are not getting that, or that, or that.  Its at this point things get slightly more manic and in the confusion,  chocolate eggs make it through, Ellie persuades me to let her buy a bag of sweets with her £1 and I realise I have forgotten my bloody bank card. Normally when this happens , I am in shop right next to house not one 30mins away by car. I then persuade Ellie to relinquish her £1 so I can get the horseradish and beetroot (instead of shankbone, (throwback to vegetarian days) needed for the seder plate, she sort of understood the situation but when we tried to leave without her sweets we almost had a meltdown.  Had to make it very clear to her that I would definitely come back and get them.  Swiftly exited one shop, got to the fruit shop got essential items whilst simultaneously explaining to the girls that I had no money so couldn't buy any of the other food they had managed to gather whilst I was sorting  beetroot.  Maia decided to try her stash of raspberries out clearly not understanding the no money part.  Leave shop and various fruits....quickly.

Realise its now after 1pm ,the girls have had ice cream for breakfast and nothing else, nerves are slightly frazzled but resolve to drive home, get card, go back to asda get shopping, thinking of ways to leave girls in underground car park for maybe 5-10mins alone, when Ellie and Maia get into a fight in the car and Ellie whacks Maia in face with a half plastic trolley we found the day before.  I then do the ridiculously stupid and mean reaction of 'how would you like it if that happened to you?' but actually follow through and flip basket up into her head, she tries bravely to pretend it was no big deal, but soon enough I have two screaming crying upset girls in back of car and one guilty mother trying to see through my own tears as we drive away.  See beacon of light at friends shop on way home, run in and dissolve in tears behind a cupboard shielding my view from the girls.  Offer of taking girls to park quickly taken up whilst I run home get bank card, talk to hubby who helpfully suggested he phoned asda and paid over phone WHY WHY WHY didn't I think of that BEFORE I drove all the way home (was trying to be superwoman and sort it all myself..doh me) and go back to shopping centre.  Decide to stop. Have a sandwich in costa coffee feeling slightly guilty for eating there (I'm sure its an evil conglomerate selling coffee to slaves and using kids as bait or something) but enjoy the moment anyway! receive phone call from Ellie to make sure I haven't forgotten the sweets.

Finally pick up girls who have had a ball in park, thank you thank you and drive home to start sorting kitchen out.  Its now 3pm, girls haven't eaten and they start ransacking the kitchen, cracking eggs, pouring cereal on stools (too hungry for bowls) and finding biscuits down the back of the sofa.  Make omelette which isn't eaten and goats cheese tarts which aren't eaten either, but that's ok cos I have both the tarts.  Ok start with this kitchen again.  Manage one cupboard then am persuaded to watch a strange cartoons about two aliens going to exciting lands, realise I am quite comfy sitting with girls and every time I try to move am persuaded to stay put.  Finally finish one side of the kitchen in between playing on trampoline and making game out of throwing and catching food to go in cupboard with Ellie, who is delighted with her catching skills.

The kitchen still looks like a bomb site, we've hoovered twice now and expect to have it do it a few more times in run up to Monday but if the girls remember one thing about preparing for Pesach, its hopefully its that it was fun, they were included, shaking toaster outside, flinging chametz (bag of raw crackers that noone was eating) in air in back garden till it exploded without fear of upset at mess, basically it was an enjoyable event, mummy wasn't too stressed out and didn't become over focused on cleaning and ignore them all day or shout at them for getting in the way.  There was joy in the day amidst the underlying stress.

My one hope is that IF my girls decide to do their own Pesach when they grow up, they will want me around to help them in their homes...because believe me its a massive job for one wee mammy

Meltdowns - skilfully avoided , I thank you

Losing the Plot - almost but diverted with a hug, thank you Marian

Breastfeeding - of course! but not on supermarket  floor for a change