One piece at a time

I have been trying to write another blog entry since Easter but haven’t as there is so much going on in my brain and so much rubbish to wade through that I don’t know where to start or for that matter how much I need to edit? I mean how much do I really want to reveal, how deep and truthful do I want to get? Do I want my friends to know how badly I am failing as a woman, wife and mother.

When asking for help on said blog, a friend told me to “pick one subject and write on that” but that’s easier said than done.  What do you do when every aspect of your life is spewed out on the floor as though a tidal wave had ravaged through your house leaving a wake of destruction.   Where do you start when the mess seems endless and the idea of starting seems so completing overwhelming?

And so to take my friend’s advice I being to write…..

30 minutes later and am basically staring at the same 3 paragraphs.  I have written and erased 20 more but one topic merges into another and then suddenly it doesn’t make sense.  Time to make a coffee and come start again.  H3 (4 yr old) has fallen asleep amazingly, so am using quiet time constructively to write my blog, am feeling pleased.

Right, lets begin.  Big Sigh, wriggle in chair. pull knickers out of bum.  Okay …..

After reviewing the events of the past few days its interesting to me how much they parallel my life.  For instance, I had always planned on marrying Prince Edward, I guess I could have aimed higher but Prince Charles was really an old fogie and just didn’t do it for me, Prince Andrew was okay but Prince Edward was much closer to me in age and lets face it was rather cute.  I was forever faithful and wrote to him often declaring my love and patiently waited for his in return but alas, as my letters went unanswered, I moved on.  Hugh Grant did have my affections for a while but then there was the “incident” and my parents would never have allowed it.   I did eventually marry an Englishman and while he isn’t of Royal decent he is a plumber so you could say I finally have my connection to the Throne.

H2 (14 yr old) has arrived home and is actually talking to me, obviously a good day at school today….  “Hey mum guess what my english homework is?” ‘”Don’t know what?” “Reading haha” .

 H1 (plumber) arrives shortly after,  Oh God, I’m on a roll and now they want to interact!!  it’s a conspiracy they never speak to me. Please leave am being creative.  Okay where was I….

I guess trying to suggest that my life is at all connected to a Terrorist is a bit much and probably dangerous at this point in time but I did tell you my mind was a mess and as I can barely verbalize a complete sentence am sure I’m safe.  I am not a fan of war and violence although my family think I am a terrorist or is that terrorize??  I have to confess that once a month (although they say it’s always), some weird force does take over my body and I cannot be held accountable for my actions.  To be fair I try to warn them off, “My boobs are going to explode, do not come near me or reap the consequences”  or “Am feeling like a time bomb today please tread gently” do they listen?? NO!! and yet somehow I am a crazy person who needs to be locked up,  perhaps to a child the sight of their mother frothing at the mouth and steam billowing out her nostrils is a bit intimidating but I really do try to warn them.  You would have thought that after 15 years H1 would know how to defuse me especially as I kindly gave him a blueprint with very clear and precise instruction but he lost it.

I just hope that when the children are older they still have some compassion and don’t come after with me missiles.

The heating is coming on and I can hear the pipes expanding, it sounds like mice, we had a plague of them just recently.  It was disgusting.  I could have literally packed up and moved just to get away from them.  I am really not sure what is worse; finding decapitated bodies on the floor (thank God I was looking where my feet were going), or pulling or should I say tearing the couch literally apart trying to find where the stench was coming from only to discover a mouse way past its use by date lying not so peacefully on the floor.  Or the time I opened the laundry door and grabbed the doggie treat bag only to have a mouse attack me and gnaw my eyes out, okay that part isn’t true but the doggie bag part is and I did nearly die on the spot when the biscuit I was getting felt warm and soft.

Its 5.00 and therefore I should be thinking about food as it will soon be time to leave for Karate.  H1 and H2 have been doing Karate for years and I have been thinking about joining for a while but am 1. terribly unfit and 2. H3 needs a lot of looking after so a good excuse but tonight is parent/student evening so it really does seem like the perfect opportunity.

Can you see how my mind is working?  it is actually poignant that I finally write my blog today as it may possibly be my last. Sensei is one tough cookie – not Tiffany but if you know TBL you will get the point.

Random and not so random thoughts still race through my brain and in all serious I know it will take some time to sort through them all and work out how I’m feeling and what to do next but I have, at least I think I have, come to a realisation. It doesn’t matter what event has taken place, whether it’s a wedding, funeral or natural disaster the end result is always the same.

As we stare at the aftermath wondering where to begin there really is only one thing to do first to regain some order. Sort through the mess and clean it up once piece at a time.