Oh To Be A Child Again

Why is it so hard to say what I would like to say at the time I want to say it?

Is it that my brain is so painfully slow at processing the information, so that hours or even days after the event, I am left obsessing about all the things I could or should have said at the time?

Or is it just fear that if I speak my mind without first considering the consequences, then I may live to regret it? But will I not regret it equally if I do NOT speak my mind?

Oh to be a child once more, where to say exactly what we think and feel is admired, praised and even encouraged!

How sad that as we grow older we hide so much of what we think and feel for fear of criticism or ridicule! Oh to be a child.

Teenage Angst

Oh dear, from snotty teenager to angst-ridden teenager - how do I keep up with the trials and tribulations of my teen-age boy? Hormones, pheromones or just moaning in general...... Am I a good mother? Is it all my fault? Is it something I did wrong, or something I didn't do at all? Why isn't he happy? How can I make him happy? Shall I make him a cake? Why doesn't he want cake? Is it my cake, or just cake in general? Oh no, not just an angst-ridden teen, but now an angst-ridden mother. Well, you know what they say, 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!'

It's Been A Crap Week

This week has been a crap week. I would like to try and put it all in perspective, and compare it to the plight of those in Japan, and then realise how crap my week wasn't, but I can't. I prefer to wallow in my quagmire of misery, in an utterly self-obsessed kind of way,which is neither nice nor attractive to others but, for me, it is the only road I can take, until the foggy cloud lifts once more. If there is anybody reading this and wondering what terrible disaster befell me, I will tell you, my loyal friend. People have been horrible to me for no good reason - they've been aggresive, rude, late, and then had the audacity to smile at me, as you would to placate an unruly, sulky child. And just because I might be just a tiny teeny weeny bit premenstrual, that has absolutely NOTHING TO DO WITH IT ......

Food for Thought

If we are depressed when we suffer from depression, does it mean we are recessed when we suffer from recession?

DAY TWO IN THE BIG BROTHER, LITTLE BROTHER, INSANE MOTHER, HOUSE

Day 2. It is still snowing and the housemates are becoming restless. The resident artist is finding it hard to concentrate and his mood is becoming erratic and rather grumpy. Insane Mother is planning some silent tasks to keep housemates' spirits up: Silent eating tasks, Silent watching back-to-back dvd's for 6 hours, Silent writing thank you letters for Christmas presents, and finally, as a special treat, Silent going to the supermarket with Insane Mother. New housemates may be brought in at any time, but Insane Mother will not confirm rumours that Katie Price aka Jordan is one of them. Blizzarding now ............................................................ Tune in later for regular updates.

I Take It All Back

I take it all back - teachers are angels and deserve their 12 weeks off, and more besides. I know I have had a slight turnaround on my previous views, but with good reason. Last week I graciously offered my services as Classroom Assistant in my 5 year old's class, thinking it would be a pleasant change from my normal daily grind - oh, how wrong could I be!
If I thought it was hard enough coping with one five year old, I was little prepared for a whole class of them, all talking and asking me questions and wanting my attention and being irritating - all at once. The apparently 12 year old teacher just breezed through it all, while I was left wondering at what point I thought being a primary school teacher was comparable with being a food-taster for Marks and Spencers. The idea of getting paid for something so easy, such fun! But now I know better, and I am a big enough person to admit when I am wrong (just ask my partner - actually, don't). I know when my opinions are misguided or slightly off balance. And so I take it all back. They deserve their holidays and their training days - they deserve them all. They are saints, they really are. And I expect the valium helps too.....

Enough Already

That’s it! I’ve had enough, I’m downing tools and going on strike. Why? Well why not?
Ok, if you want a reason, I’ll give you a reason.
It’s the teachers; well perhaps not necessarily the teachers themselves as such, but the unions, the government or whoever the bloody hell decided that 12 weeks paid holiday is just not enough. I know I’m ranting and not being my usual clear and concise self, but I’m just so angry. I can hardly string my pumpkin lights up, let alone a sentence.

Oh those poor overworked and undervalued teachers. Six week summer holidays are not enough, give them another week off to recover from the last six weeks. Oh, but hang on, we need to train them so they’ll able to teach our offspring even better. Give them another day off and add it on to the half-term holiday – no-one will notice. Oh and while we’re at it, give them another few weeks off in December and a day or two in January – we’ll call it the Christmas holiday – we’ll all be too busy watching telly and shopping and cooking and eating and looking after our kids to catch on. Tag another day on for good measure, they can call it a special team-building/ training/ educational/ new government initiative. We’re bound to swallow it. What? What’s that I hear them say? You want us have our staff parties during the holidays? Stop it right now. How dare you imply that we’re onto a good thing, that we’re taking the proverbial? Don’t we deserve a little bit of time off? To recharge our batteries so we can give our ‘all’, to your precious darlings? Surely you don’t begrudge us that? Too bloody right, I do.

Enough’s enough, I say. Parents unite, I urge you all. It’s time to say no. Let them have their 12 week holidays if they must, but that’s all they’re getting, that is more than enough. I, for one am exhausted with it all. I think I’ll go on strike for a day, just so I can put my feet up. Perhaps I’ll sit by the computer and pretend to look busy while I google rug clearance sales in the Outer Hebrides? Or perhaps I’ll just have a training day – now that does sound like a plan …..