Tuesday, 13 September 2011

Venting and Part Two

Before I go any further I must vent my spleen. Today, on the afternoon school run a man shouted at me for not thanking him for stopping at the zebra crossing whilst I used it to cross the road (or traverse la rue as I like to say). Now, as I don't routinely thank people for abiding by the highway code and stopping at red traffic lights, not mounting the pavement, giving way, indicating etc, I feel it is excessive to thank people for stopping at a zebra crossing which is in fact, required by law - and I quote "you MUST give way when a pedestrian has moved on to a crossing". Every now and again when I am in a jolly mood or I have seen that they had to make an abrupt stop, I will raise my hand or smile in a gesture of thanks to the motorist for making the effort, but, and rather crucially, it is most certainly not required by law or indeed a moral code of conduct that I thank them. Which leads me to believe that this is just another symptom of the male ego - the mistaken belief that all other people are busy thinking about them and their stupid feelings. The truth is I was most certainly not thinking of that man in his stupid little enhanced Ford Fiesta. I was, at the time of crossing, thinking of a vast and varied number of things, NONE of which included his feelings at having to stop at a zebra crossing whilst a woman and her buggy crossed the road. Amongst my thoughts were (in no particular order); Bugger, I have just seen the Tesco delivery van who is running late for my slot and so now my elderly neighbour will have to make a judgment call on any substitutions they have had to make which will unsettle her, George will have to help her unload the bags which will be interesting, can she in fact open the door on her own as she has needed me to pull it open for her of late as it is sticking, will the delivery driver know to push the door to open it and help her if she can't open it, I hope the woman in the car who didn't stop at the crossing just now realised I wasn't cross and I could see it was a genuine mistake and I did see her apologise, I have done that a few times and always felt quite guilty afterwards, why is Teddy saying the same word over and over and over and over again and what on earth does he want, boy it is suddenly very hot with the sun out even though it was raining and I had the heating on only a few moments ago, this is the last day G will be at home with my elderly neighbour, will G be ok tomorrow all day at school, I wonder if my knickers are showing as these jeans are far too tight and they are slowly slipping down with the strain of the fat pushing against them like an elastic band ready to ping. And so, as you can see, in the 20 seconds or so it took me to leave the pavement on one side and reach the pavement on the other side the rather stupid and petty man waiting impatiently for me to cross really NEVER CROSSED MY MIND. I feel better, thank you.

So. That lesson learnt I shall move on. By going back. The stay at home holiday is, I think, where I left you. In brief, it turned out to be an expensive option. The exciting line up of day trips I had imagined turned out to consist of the Ikea trip already mentioned; me going to Sainsbury's; a trip to the local park followed by the ceramic decorating cafe, followed by Toys R Us in preparation for Ted's birthday; a trip to Crystal Palace Park to see the dinosaurs (disappointing dinosaurs although great park) and the Crystal Palace farm where Bea got stung by a wasp and all I had was diet coke to soothe the pain (it works oddly enough); a trip to London Zoo (heinously expensive especially the gift shop part which cost more than the entry ticket); the children and K going to his mum's so I could sort the house out, get the carpets cleaned and prepare for Ted's birthday; Ted's Birthday which consisted of me being hideously tired after a very unsettled night and then a visit to Hell's portal - Gambado (soft play warehouse filled with the most ridiculously horrideous people and their devil-like offspring); and finally three days of us all being exhausted and distressed over all the money that we had spent on our 'holiday' and the children being very over excited about the start of school. Tadahhhhhh!

There were some good things to come out of our week. The stuffed animals we got from the zoo and Ikea went towards creating the most amazingly life like zoo in our living room, complete with signs and habitats (trees for the snakes, white sheets and cushions for the polar bear - oh and a 'river' made out of all G's new school jumpers crumpled up next to the white sheet) and the soft food sets we got from Ikea were used to provide the food at the zoo cafe which was created in our kitchen. That game went on for many days and made them all very happy. The ceramic cafe left us with some very expensive painted animal ornaments which will now gather dust in the kitchen until the children are old enough for me to chuck them away. Although K did paint me a lovely mug. It has our initials and a heart on each side with red spots decorating the rest. The only slightly disturbing thing is that the spots are made by his fingerprints using red paint so that where there wasn't enough paint to make a solid spot it does look like someone met a rather grizzly end and kept grabbing for a mug to leave some useful evidence. Still, I love it, as it has left me with something permanent from our very peculiar 'staycation' and it is a great size for my morning cuppa.

Which I think in a roundabout way brings us just about up to date. Ish. If there is anything else I remember I shall bung it in later.

Yesterday was my first meeting for Weight Watchers which turned out to be a rather exciting success. I had organised at least two friends to turn up so that it wouldn't just be me, my area manager and the friend I had arranged to help out on the shop, sitting around twiddling our thumbs for an hour. So I was incredibly surprised to find people turning up who I didn't know at all. I questioned them a few times to make sure they were in the right place which indeed they were. In fact lots of people came through the door (relatively speaking - fourteen in all) which meant that I was incredibly busy for the whole hour and I even made a small profit (after childcare it was enough for a takeaway - for one). However the best part is that the first one is now over and I know that it is indeed possible to get three children up and out and deposited at their allotted place and then on to a scout hut where you have to unload a car full of crap which then needs putting up and laying out inside. All before 10am on a Monday morning. I felt more satisfaction at that accomplishment than the meeting itself.

I shall leave you now - I have a bit of a cry to have and I feel I need to be by myself. Don't worry, K is now talking to me but it's G. From tomorrow he's going to be going all day every day to school for the rest of his life (alright obviously not but still, it just feels like it). K keeps saying I should be thrilled as I will suddenly have 'all this time' to do the stuff I moan about not having time to do. However, firstly he has clearly forgotten about Ted and secondly, this marks the beginning of the end for me - G is now officially no longer a baby - and lastly, he will turn all 'boy' on me. Spending so much time with other boys at school will mean that me, Bea and the old lady across the road will no longer form his major daily influences and he may quickly tire of watching girly films, plaiting hair or playing Mums and Dads and Babies. Any minute now I will turn around and he will be eighteen and celebrating by getting drunk with his friends who puke in our garden (my nephew had his eighteenth, so I know). So, this is my last night with my second baby. As of tomorrow he will leave the house a nearly eighteen year old and I shall be bereft. Sniff, I have to go.
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