Thursday 28 April 2011

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.

Saturday 2 April 2011

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!'

Friday 18 March 2011

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 ......