I had a dream, but a bad one

I had a really frustrating dream this weekend, involving a ballet dress and Prague. Basically me and Ms 3 years old were in Prague and had to travel about half a mile to our destination (I think it was the airport, but clearly could have also been a school). Anyway we had big wheelie suitcases, and J was wearing a ballet leotard and tutu. Then we simply had to stop at a local shop to buy chocolate.

We were in the shop browsing the sweeties selection, and I remember excitement at finding Czech sweets - then J announced she simply was bursting for the loo. The shop keeper weirdly turned out to be a Cockney, but unfortunately did not have a toilet. And she had a leotard on (v. tricky to take off). I woke up extremely panicked.

What does this mean?My desire for chocolate is interrupting my child's basic human right to wear a leotard and go to the toilet? Or is it all that worry about fancying doing a bit of work sometime soon? Can work every equate to chocolate?

Perimenopausal Panic

Boys - turn away now. I'm concerned I've started my perimenopause. It's a bit confusing as it has come over from America, as a term that is, and is quite a vague description of the bit from mid thirties until mid forties when you actually hit the menopause. I've got shocking symptoms of a period that could lay me low for a whole day a month. And its heavy, really heavy.

No idea if I meet any of the other symptoms as I know further research will probably make me convinced I must take all the supplements I can, and that the actual menopause is starting. Which would be concerning, because although our family is complete (bar a dog) I still kind of like the option, that we could have another child, with a fair wind, and injection of energy.

Course it is probably all a bit over the top worrying about this, I'm only in my mid thirties - or is it over the top?

Happy Days are Here Again

Wonderful day in gorgeous Hastings today, we've remembered why we live here. Little J, as we reached the old town suddenly remembered we lived by the sea, and the fair of course.

We've been for a wander around town; to the wonderful health food shop Trinity; to the bookshop to buy another World Book Day Book, this time about hamsters; then for a picnic and play on the beach, then for a coffee in the bargain priced Dragon bar (£1 and a baby cinno); then finally to K's for a sit down before picking up Ol and getting the bus home. Yay!

And both children have been a delight, including at school, so whatever afflicted them earlier this week - ?stressed mother due to not blogging who knows, has now gone. And we are a tired, but happy family again.

I have to admit to dog desire though; just can't see how Seren, the cat would handle it. I really really want one though. Really really. Possibly it'll be like the time I got baby desire in my mid twenties and after ignoring it for a while it went away, well at least for a couple of years until I was really bored with my job (how shocking I know!)

They're bad and broken

Oh no, the children have had mini meltdowns this week, and have now officially been dubbed broken by one of my friends. Let's start with the smaller one; well she has decided she is Gate Keeper to the house, and does not want me to have friends over, let alone talk to them, or talk to her own friends. As a consequence of this horrible attitude she was really really rude to my friend, and her little friend. Then spent three hours weeping after they left as she said she loved them and just wanted to come back.

Seriously embarrassing, probably a bit like having a rabid dog on heat in the house.

Then the big one has gone Bad at school. So much so that everyone is shocked and concerned. His friends have told their mummies, who have told me, the teacher has called me in to discuss. And it is all about hitting other children. It's the first time he's done this really (apart from when he left the free for all nursery to the military academy nursery) so god knows what was going on. And to make it all worse, yesterday everytime one of the teachers told him off he just laughed. Playstation is now banned, possibly Wii this weekend but almost more importantly somehow we need to find out what it is all about.

And to top it all we're still having buggy wars. Basically the walk down to school is about 15 minutes, then about half an hour back. 3 year old J can walk it fine; but without the buggy she has tantrums that usually end up with me treading in dog poo or worse. And with it; well she is at school next year, and it is like climbing a Giant Mountain pushing a very heavy rock with it. What to do? The fairies took it away a couple of months ago, then they relented because of hour long tantrums from 3 - 4pm daily.

Anyone got any answers?

It's a woman's perogative

I know...I know, cold turkey only lasted a week. But I missed blogging, and remembered I enjoy it, and love letting off steam.
So I'm back - yay hey! And very pleased with self for changing mind.

It's the end of the blog

Dear Lovely Readers

I've been writing on here for over a year and a half now. I've loved my time on the web. I've shared family stories, annoyance, sadness and happiness. But now I think it is time to move on...

I originally started blogging to sharpen my writing skills, and secretly hoped I'd be spotted as the next, possibly slightly less snobby Wife of the North and published. Of course that hasn't happened, but what has been going on has been me enjoying writing, commenting on other blogs and I think, getting a little more writing confidence.

The blog has also seen me through quite a tough move down to the South Coast, and to a different quieter lifestyle. I actually feel very much at home here now and no longer confused very much by the differences. So I feel less like I need to write about that anymore either.

So, as they say, it is time for me to focus on new projects. I'm working on some funding for a nursery garden, I've a plan to create mini gardens in glass bottles (yes very train spotting style) - although out of garish plastic things, and I've got just 6 months with little J before she starts school.

Thank you all for reading, commenting, hopefully enjoying and getting cross with this blog.

Love Bev

Must leave now in case anyone else offends me....

If I could write a list of the people who have made me cross this week it'd be rather on the long side - no, don't worry it is none of you! But in the interests of living in a small town, and running out of people to talk to if I'm not careful I am just going to list the issues.

1. People who don't like people with 'nice accents' - i.e. me to use or have any benefit of community facilities. Come on, community is for everyone, and if you want proof of poverty then I can show you my bloody minus bank statement.
2. People who are rude to shop assistants, either because they think they don't matter - are not 'middle class' enough to bother with, or perhaps were just having a bad day, but were still very rude. Yes, and I was the abeit, volunteer shop assistant.
3. Very sociable people - just because I'm jealous really, and can't always turn on my sociability button.

Can't decide if worrying about these is a form of arrogance - or maybe just sensitivity, still it probably shows my adopted city roots, and forgotten village living.

Anyone have any other issues to add to the Bad List this week?

Pollution Paranoia

We used to live in town, in Leyton to be precise. Which, along with most of East London can have high levels of pollution, particularly on still days, and close to the A12. One of the scariest, most inadequate moments I've had was walking along Leyton High Road with a baby Ol, at car level in his buggy and realising the air was so polluted I was struggling to breathe let alone a tiny baby.

Of course, clean air was one of the deciding factors in moving out of the city. Most of the time we did not notice the air quality, but every time we went out of the city, even as close as Hertfordshire we noticed the cold improved air. So one of the delights coming to lovely Hastings was the great air, particularly on the sea front of course, nothing like a good sea breeze. Interestingly, have just found out there is nothing intrinsically better about sea air, it just seems better.

However every single time I go up on to Old London Road, in Ore I struggle to find my breath. I have no idea why the pollution is so bad here - its not Hastings 'hot spot' of pollution - which is no surprise near the landfill site and busy Bexhill Road. In fact, I can't find any records anywhere of pollution levels being recorded up here. It is a busy road, with a fair number of lorries and buses , which could be a factor I guess. Or is it just that I'm so used to lovely clean air, when I come across a polluted patch I am more sensitive to it?

What do you think? Can you detect pollution by 'sense' alone? Whose responsibility is it to clean the area?

Thank goodness I'm neither pregnant or pre-menstrual

... I would have cried so much I'd have crashed in to the bottom of the hill this morning. I just saw a hard looking man, in a hoodie with a foot high little dog carrying a frisbee in its mouth. The dog was obviously to in love with his frisbee, and excited to play it he just had to carry it himself.

Normally its adverts that bring a tear to my eye, or when pregnant obviously anything horrible to do with children. But this Knight of Warrior Square* was clearly of the golden hearted variety. (*Hoodies from Hastings shopping centre- coined by a friend - nb. contact me if you want to me named!)

edit: sorry to those who can't understand this post, think it means you are not ever a hormonal woman. It makes sense to me, honest.

Heavy heart

I don't know where people go when they die - heaven, nirvana, limbo, reincarnation but I hope they look down on us, and know we're thinking of them, with heavy hearts sometimes. And remembering. It's been two years since the day that my brother in law died today.