Sssssh! He's sleeping.....

Tonight, he came down the stairs again, for one more hug, one more cuddle, and in the end he said, "But I just want to see you tonight. Just in case." and so he went on the sofa, no tv, no nothing, I barely spoke to him because I was working.  He barely spoke to me, because he was so tired, but his "brain was too busy to sleep."

He was asleep after about 15 minutes, and I'll put him into his own bed when I finish this.

For reasons best known to itself, and nothing to do with the source file, the picture of the afternoons scarf progress looks like this. Hmmmmmmmmmm.  But you get the idea.  I've worked out where the mistake was, and how not to do it again.

This is my delight and my salvation, as the psalm goes.  A silent one-cup maker that will also boil a kettle.  Yes, it's an extravagance, but there won't be many of those soon.  It's environmentally friendlier, and gorgeous to look at as well.  And has my Doctor Who Dalek  mug on it at the moment, which Rich got for me with the AC one year for my Easter egg.  Mothering Sunday is in 2 weeks, and I'm trying not to think about it, because this time last year, and the year before, there were whisperings in corners, and cards being hidden, and plans and schemes being made.  Rich took it very seriously, and always, always told me what a great mother I was, and how I would be a fantastic mother to our children, how he would never have to worry.  He promised me all the things on the milk advert... (I must find the link for it, even if it was SMA)

Anyway.  Enough maudlin before bed.

See this? This is what I have just found.  The Kevin-Cat has knocked over the pile of veg boxes, and was sat looking at them with a "What? Where did they come from? Wasn't me!" face.

But this little face

 

This face is going to bed.

Night all.  Tomorrow I must tell of church.  Tonight I shall think upon it some more.

p.s.

Found the words....

I promise not to pretend I'm asleep when our baby wakes at 3am, or 4am, or 5am.

I promise never to say 'my mum thinks your holding the baby wrong'.
 
I promise not to mention that sometimes when i kiss your beautiful neck it smells of perfume and baby sick.

I promise not to join in any of my mates sing the theme tune from The Omen, although it is quite funny.

I promise to do at least my fair share of nappy changing and night feeding.

I promise to tell you often, how proud i am of you, and how you've made me the happiest dad on the planet. All this i pledge without any pressure from you, my lovely lovely misses. 

It came on the tv one night, and he looked at me, kissed me, and said "I promise all that as well, y'know." and kissed me again. *happy memory sigh*

And the film link is still on my "to find" list.

Another bout.....

Yesterday evening, late, turned into another one of these sessions. With a bit of this in it.

It wasn't pretty.  It was tearful and snotty and really quite awful!  Saturday nights are, as I've said before, one of the worst times, because they were so us.  Everyone went, and we stayed in our house, doing our stuff.  Going to bed.  Having silent but giggly sex. Drinking tea.  Going to bed far too late knowing I had to be up early.

More and more, it's all of it I miss.  I miss him being here, but I miss the everything, the little things.  There are things in the house now that he has never seen in person.  He's never met Kevin, never used the Russell Hobbs thingy, never used my iPod.

It's normal, natural and so on, but it's not right.  I was asked out again yesterday, which was lovely, but the person concerned accepts that now is not the right time.  It's still flattering to be asked though.

What else has happened?

I decided to take pictures of some of the things I've eaten in the last couple of days, to allay any fears that I am not eating enough.  Or properly.

 

Scrambled eggs with parma ham, 3 kinds of salami, and fresh organic cherry tomatoes. And the ever present cup of tea.

 

Tomato and basil soup with homemade bread, and cream cheese dollops. I'm sure there is a proper phrase.  I just don't know it.  Dollops is fine.

I also shook some of the funk by walking into town yesterday and purchasing a pattern, wool, and needles (as I have 7's but no 8's.)

 

Eventually it will be a scarf.  It was a useful way of gently nudging my brain back into gear several times yesterday, although mistakes were made so because it knits up really fast, I've actually pulled it and started again.  More pictures later.  But it's only a 6line pattern....

 

 

For the person who emailed me, this is the AC's memory box.  He loves it, cherishes it, and was proud to take it into school to show. 

 

I won't go into everything in it, but this is the inside.  It's all things that AC feels are important for him to have to remember Rich.  There are photos, a t-shirt that still smells of oil and diesel, and his wallets and other random things that AC values.  He decides what goes in it, and I'll ask him if I can share with the world one day, but not today.  He took it into school, and went through it with his bereavement group.  They were over an hour going through it, he told stories about Rich, it led one of the boys to share things about his mother, and AC was sad to find other people don't have memory boxes for their person.  We talked about it though, and he's ok now.  Talk is the answer for everything in this house.  Talk and jaffa cakes.

 

 

And this is not my kitchen.  My kitchen looks like this, but is green.  I'll photo it later.

AS you can tell, I'm going to try and make photos a bigger part of this blog, because I need to look back and see how good things were, or bad, and how they are better now.  That'll be good for the AC and I.

 

Speaking of which - here we are!  This was taken in half term, and was at Pizza Hut with Caroline and the twins.

Time to do the notices.  Laters peoples!

Comments.

Momza said...

Hello there. Thanks so much for stopping by and leaving your enlightened comment. I have been reading and soaking up your thoughts on your blog. Life seems to have handed you an experience that draws you closer to Heavenly Father in ways that only death of a loved one can do. I hope your weekend is one of peace and comfort. Thirty-two weeks is not long. Not long at all. Lemonade is ambitious. Add extra sugar.

February 26, 2010 6:17 PM

sarah said...

((hugs))

February 26, 2010 6:55 PM

Chef Penny said...

(((((hugs))))) Stuff the lemonade and make a limoncello instead! Or add the lemons to your long island ice tea!!!! You can cry if you want to!!!

February 27, 2010 1:46 AM

 Until yesterday, I would have said that comments don't bother me much.  If they turn up, they turn up.  If they don't, they don't.  I have an idea of how many people read.  But yesterday, amid my ball of snot and tears, I got 2 comments.  I woke up to the third.

Momza, thankyou.  Last night I did indeed give in on the lemonade, and settle for tea, with extra sugar, and jaffa cakes.  I did enough work to make myself feel that I'd done something, and then I was nice to myself all evening.  I am hanging onto Phil 4 13 with all my might some days, but then again that might be the problem.

 

Sarah ((hugs)) are just what I need.  Just to know that someone else is out there, existing, on the days when all there is is grief and loss and pain.  There aren't many words that help, but hugs do.

Penny, I like the thought process, and although I had to look up both recipes, I think I might have to try them - in the interests of intercultural understanding, you understand!

 All three people took the time to comment, and in doing so have helped today start with not only a smile, but a cleaned guineapig cage, a cleaned bathroom and kitchen, the washer, tumbler and dishwasher are on, and life has a shiny side, because in the darkness, I am not alone. Thankyou ladies.

Stuff the lemonade

Now, after a day at work, I don't want to make lemonade like I said this morning.  I'm sitting here, bawling my eyes out, dripping on the Kevin-cat, and hurting hurting hurting because I just want him to walk in the door.  Just one time more.  Just one.

Like the AC asking for just one more look at Rich's coffin.  Just one more mummy.

I just want to see him, hold him, kiss him, be with him once more time.  It's a physical pain that hits me in the stomach over and over again.  It stops me moving thinking being existing as me.  All I am is this huge ball of tears and snot and grief and want and need and so many, many things.

32 weeks really matters.  No, I don't know why, but I know it does.  It does.  I've known all day what time it was, what I was doing 32 weeks ago.  When he died.  When I saw the fire engines.  When the police came.  When I saw him.  When my mother came.  When I told the AC. All day, what I was doing 32 weeks ago.

So now I'm doing exactly what I was doing 32 weeks ago.  Crying.

Without the sense of disbelief, without the hope of a baby this time, without the hope that it was all some crazy mistake by someone else.

Just crying.  Just crying and crying and it's getting on my nerves now.

I just want him home.

32 weeks....

It's 32 weeks today.

By now the February baby would have been here.

Or if not him, then the June baby would have just arrived.

Or if not him, then the August baby would be well on his way.

If the She-Ex had kept her promises, and done the right thing with the money we sent, then we'd have been married - and actually, the BG would have been better off, because there would have been life insurance and so on.

But there's a whole world of if's and buts and maybe's.  Let's not even go to "If he hadn't have died...."

If those darling babies had arrived - not all of them lol, I'm not a rat - then I wouldn't be going to do my postgraduate Certificate.  I wouldn't be making the SENCO plans that I am making.  I wouldn't be living the life I am living.

Life has given me lemons in lots of places.  I'm making as much lemonade as I can.

Whoop Whoop and raise the roof...........

Long sleep.

On the sofa, I slept from 8,30-10pm.  In bed I slept from 10-3.30am, then 3.35-5.45.

That's a lot of sleep for someone used to sleeping midnight - 4am.

I know I slept well when Pete was here, we just spent our time talking instead of sleeping!  I know it made a difference to sleep in his arms.  It's one of the reasons we used to do it so much at Uni.  It wasn't a sex thing, just a being together thing. It has been great having someone in the house.  Someone who made *me* a cup of tea, someone who hugged me as they were passing, someone who talked about everything, the way Rich and I used to.

Pete is one of my oldest and dearest friends though. I can't imagine being like this with someone I barely knew, but then I suppose at one point I barely knew Rich.  If the whole July pantomime hadn't happened, then we would never have spent so much time together before the She-Ex took their daughter and left.  Then when we did start seeing each other, it wouldn't have been as the friends that we were becoming deeper in our relationship, but just as a couple starting out together.  I liked our way better.

I love the fact he knew so much about me before he knew me naked.  That he loved me, for who I was, not what I could do for him in the bedroom (he referred to it as an added bonus that that side of things was amazing and was always, always surprised how much I liked it! I suppose it depends what you are used to, because I was surprised how much he liked it too!)

Anyway, I can't go down this road now.  His road is forever closed to me, on this Earth.  One day though..... One day we'll all be together again, with the children, without the hassles of before.

That's got to be a bonus.

Waving goodbye. Again.....

It's 4.30am.  I've just waved goodbye to Pete as he goes back home.  The chances are I will never see him again, and that's odd.  It's odd because I know what that is like.  He emigrates at the end of the next 4 weeks.  We've learnt a lot and taught a lot in the last 48 hours ish, and the closeness that we had at the weekend, the emotional connection, was still there on Monday night, as soon as he walked in.

I've also realised just how much like Rich he is.  We talked about Rich, about Pete's ex wife, about Pete's baby, a lot.  We told each other things that no one else knows.  There's no risk of him telling anyone - he's going away.  He's given AC some pagan things, which is fine.  AC will come to his own beliefs in time, and anything that helps him do that is cool.  We're going to look at using part of the book for the Year And A Day celebrations.

And I'm going to bed.  There's more I want to say, but the words are sleeping, and so should I be.

Oh, and Penny?  I'm smiling too!  Thankyou for commenting in the ways that you do. *hug* 

*yawn* *giggle* *yawn*

Is there anything better than staying up late with a friend, talking about the past, both far away and recent, and loving them with the depth that only comes from time? 

Right now in my life, I'd say that there's not much better than that.

Pete stayed last night, he's staying tonight, and then I have no idea when I will see him next, if ever, which is a sobering thought.  He is an amazing and wonderful man though, and I am so glad to know him and be known by him.

Work is work (actually, it all went ok yesterday!) and life is life.

I need to email a few people about the Year of Firsts celebration (yes, it's going to be invite only!) and whilst it's not going to be a big thing, it's going to be good for all of us.  I have however realised that due to the vagaries of the school system we don't break up until the week after, which may be an emotionally challenging day, but that's ok.  I can do all things through He who strengthens me.

Oh yes.

And I have email.  I haven't opened it yet, because it's just there, uninvited in my life.  Hopefully it says that the house is great, that BG is doing great, that the world is great for them.  There's no attachments so there's no pictures of BG.  I'll open it when Pete has gone, so that if it is nasty, it can't taint what a lovely time *we* are having, just hanging out.

And so to work some more!

Back to normal?

It's early morning.

I have tea, I have work to do, I have work that won't get done, and I have a sleeping child upstairs.  The house is in ok shape, nothing about an hour won't work through tonight to deal with everything.  AC's memory box is by the door, ready to go to school to show to his Bereavement Group.  He is the only one with a box, so the adults would like him to show as much as he is ready to show so that the other children can think about making one.  He is excited, but nervous - what if he gets upset?  He loves Rich - what if he forgets something?  What if the other children laugh at what is in there?

I held him, and told him it would all be fine.  That he might get upset, and that just means that he is in touch with how he feels, that it shows how much he loves Rich, that it's ok.  That he might forget something, but if I does I am just in main building, and I can and will help.  That no-one will laugh, and if they do, then we should be glad, because it means they don't know how sad the AC really is inside, and that means we are doing a good job.  Game Face on baby!

The other exciting news is that we bought electric toothbrushes yesterday.  I know.  Rock and Roll.  And I was bought perfume yesterday, by someone who had been abroad and come back.  It's a Chanel one, called Chance.  I felt special, that he would think of me whilst abroad.  He knows the situation, he knows that the AC is the focus of my life right now, as he works through this, and that when he has (and I mean worked through this, not got over it, because no child ever truly gets over being separated from someone they love like this.) then there might be room for something more.  But I won't be doing anything about it all anytime soon.  He understands that, which is nice.

And so to work.  Another half term starts.  We're getting there. 

Like I told my mother last night.  We have 2 options.  We can smile, or we can laugh.  There's no room for anything else.

Lovestruck?

I've had this song in my head all day. It's Dire Straits.  Romeo and Juliet.

Specifically, these lines....







I can't do the talk, like the talk on TV
And I can't do a love song, like the way it's meant to be.
I can't do everything, but I'll do anything for you.
I can't do anything, 'cept be in love with you!
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be.
All I do is keep the beat... and bad company.
Now all I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme,
Juliet, I'd do the stars with you any time!

Juliet, when we made love you used to cry.
You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die".
There's a place for us, you know the movie song.
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?

NARRATOR:
And a love-struck Romeo sings a street-suss serenade
Laying everybody low with a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
He says something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"

ROMEO:
You and me babe, how about it?


I think it's just how I feel today.  I can't find the words, I can't even find the poems inside me today, all I do is miss him, and the way we used to be.  And yes, when we made love, real love, I cried for the wholeness of it, for the completion, for the soul to soul ness of it.  For the experience I had heard of, and never found before and will never find again.  It wasn't every time, we had a lot of fun times in the bedroom, a lot of laughter and enjoyment, and sometimes, just sometimes, when we were both in that kind of mood, we would join in a way that empowered both of us with love and togetherness.
I....
I.......
I suppose it was just that the time was wrong.............

We returned.

I'll write more about the week later on, but, we're back.

My mind is clearer on so many points, from talking with the boys.  They have helped me to see where I am not responsible for the bad stuff (BG's future, mainly) and where I have achieved with the good stuff.  AC has been able to fit in with everyone, showing what an adaptable, mature child he is, and he has had a blast.  Pete said that if they didn't know Rich was dead, that they would have thought he was still alive from the way that AC talks about him all the time.  He knows it's ok to talk about Rich, and that's a solid step for a child.  It shows he has confidence in his surroundings, in the people that he meets, and so on.

My body is clearer on many points as well.  Whilst it is still flicking towards 140lbs (10st) I have come to realise that that is ok.  That it is time to let my body go where it wants to, and trust in it.  I know it will never let me get horrendously fat and never let me just not take care of myself.  I know I scrub up well, and I know that the boys thought I had the same figure now as I did when I was 18 - and in a good way lol!  Pregnancy and long term breast feeding have left me in pretty good shape, and I can be proud of myself in a way that I was when Rich was alive.

My romantic life is clearer on so many points as well.  I've made it clear to all interested parties that right now, AC and I are not ready for anything.  That it is flattering, that they, particularly one of them, is a wonderful person, who I would love to have in my life, but right now, its not going to happen.  AC and I don't need anyone else except Rich and each other right now, and until we can work through that, and we will, then we will be focusing on each other.

My future life is clearer.  I have applied for my post-grad, I know what I'm going to do, how I'm going to fit it all in, and so on.  It's coming together.

My home is clearer - the utility is painted, I am slowly removing things that we were keeping for BG to a special place upstairs, the kitchen was only 10 mins from almost immaculate, I've cleared the top of the cabinet and so on.

My mourning is clearer.  We have set in place what will happen at the end of the Year of Firsts.  It will happen, it will be beautiful, and will only have those who truly loved Rich there.  No one will steal it from us, or try and overtake it with their own grief based on the loss of the time they could have had with Rich, but he will be released by those that loved him as he was, as a good father to AC and as good as he could be (with her taken so far away) to BG, as a proud member of the RAF, and as a wonderful lover, friend and partner.

And now, a cup of tea. (yes, some things never change!)

A long week

It's been a long, long week.

It's been a fabulous, fabulous weekend.

Currently, I'm at Rob's place, listening to the children play and thinking that life should be like this. (Not with Rob, obviously. No. Nope.  Nothing personal mate, but no.)

It's been a time of finding clarity in my own thinking and discovering my own needs.  A time of finding out where I am comfortable in my own skin.  A time of sleeping in the arms of a friend, knowing that I am safe and secure and the AC is just playing on the floor whilst I doze on the sofa.

It's been amazing.

I'll write about it, and about the week, and about Valentines Day and so on later.  We have a long train journey today, to the Wilds of Wales.

Laters lovely people.

That was the weekend?

Apparently, yes!

Friday, babysat for Clare and Rob.

Saturday, went to Tesco with Clare, went down again in the afternoon to Argos and bought the last thing on our "We'd love *THAT* list" and it is indeed as wonderful as Rich thought it would be.  Parents came over, we gamed, and so on.

Sunday, went to church, went out with Anna and her children in the afternoon, had lovely lovely time.

Spent all of Sunday evening finishing Donna's granddaughters quilt.  It's ok.  I'm not happy with some of the stitching - machine needs a service I think - but from a distance it looks lovely.

All over, a joy!

Less watching, more doing.

I am forever struggling to get things done.

I never used to be.  (OK, well, I did, but no where near as badly)

Now I know why.

Tonight I was babysitting for Rob and Clare.  I worked all evening on my planning, both last weeks *ahem* and this weeks, *yay* .  I also found time to clean their kitchen and wash up for them.

They don't have a tv.  They do have internet, which I used only on school sites because I didn't want to use up their download stuff, but I got done in about 2 hours of working, with 3x 15 mins in the kitchen in there as well.

I've had tv on a lot since Rich died.  I'm like one of those old ladies who "has it for the company" and it is nice I suppose sometimes.  Often though, I get to the end of an evening, and suddenly realise that I've done nothing all evening, because I've had the tv on.

Food for thought, methinks.

In other news...... I posted my application.  Oh yeah!

Decision made....

.... forms filled in.

I am sending off my application today for my Post-Graduate Certificate in Social, Emotional and Behavioural Difficulties. 

In a couple of years, hopefully sooner, I'll do the SENCO PostGrad. (And it'll be easier to get a SENCO job because I'll have the PostGrad in SEBD)

A couple of years after that I'll do the Complex Needs Post Grad.

Then the Uni will add them all together and award me my Masters in Education.

How cool will that be.  I'm excited and nervous at the same time.  I know what I want to do, and I know it's going to be a LOT of work (they don't just hand out degrees either though, although I know the She-Ex thought I hadn't had to work for my degree at all!) but it is learning for the joy of learning, as well as learning for a purpose.

The LEA will hopefully fund this years course.
The SENCO is funded by the LEA when I get a SENCO post.
The last one will be funded by me.

I will have to fund all books and stationary and so on this year.  I'll manage though. 

I'm excited.

PostGrad

Choices.

I have been offered the chance to do my PostGrad Cert, then Diploma, then probably my MEd.

Where do I start?

Autism
Complex Needs
Dyslexia

Choices, choices.

And I am also now the Targeting Mental Health in Schools Co-ordinator, which means I *do* know what I'm talking about with children's mental health, and someone else is recognising that.  It means meetings with area, with Head of Child Psychology and so on.  It means the start to changing things hopefully, to putting programmes in place for children instead of doping them on drugs, looking at why they behave the way they do, looking at traumas and indicators in their lives, not just masking it all with a pill for which the closest chemical relation is Crystal Meth.

Why would you give your child an amphetamine, a derivative of Speed, when there were other ways?

I know some of the reasons, but hey.... lets not judge.... ;-)

Family

Today is six months since the trauma of the time began.

Six months ago, Rich was stolen from me, taken from where he was, and whisked away so that I couldn't complete what had to be done for him.  It was done secretly, and with determination that I should not see him again.  I had asked, and been told, that whatever happened, I-t-B and I were in this together, and that whatever I wanted to happen would happen.

Lies are a terrible thing.

I didn't write about it at the time, because there was no point, it was so raw.  I couldn't believe that someone would be so heartless, so completely selfcentred, so utterly ignorant (in all senses of the word) about their own brothers beliefs, that he would do this.

But he did.

I can forgive him in many ways, because he is a mixed up child, and allowances should be made.  He was having a traumatic time, and this things make a person blinkered and selfish at those times.  He was given many chances to sort it out though, to make it better.  He chose to spirit Rich away, take him, and lock him in a house whilst he went on holiday for a while to get over the stress.  He didn't want to leave Rich with me because he "didn't know what I'd do." 

I would have respected Rich's wishes.
I would have respected his family wishes.
I would have respected my sons needs.

That's what I would have done.

We would have sat our vigil, and then handed Rich over at the right time to his brother, when we would all have gone to the scattering.

More on *that* later.

People, don't depend on family to do the right thing by your loved ones.  And family and loved ones are not always the same thing.

I had forgotten

.... how good exercise makes me feel.  It was only 15 minutes today, but I did it.  I was reasonably sore from yesterday, but only in places, which is reasonable.

Yesterday I also bordered the pink triangle quilt, and today I'll pick up some pale pink thread and we should be done with that tonight, which is good because I want to get Lilly's done, as well as start and finish Lily's (there is a difference lol!) and then do Harry-Bank's quilt, then Jo's, then the twins.  Then quilt the UFO's upstairs.

yeah.

All of it.

Just like that!

I'm finally heading out of a deep rut, and am on the way up again.  I'm not stupid enough to think it's all over, but I'm not holding onto this pain any longer than I have to, because that will make me a nasty, bitter, vindictive person, and I don't want to be that person.

I know that I will have a chance at a different kind of love and happiness soon.  It'll be up to me, to us, to make it work, if that's the way we decide to go.  I'm not ready to go there yet, but I'm getting to it.  I suspect I know when I will be.

This week however, there is only the anniversary of Rich's Celebration, and that was such a good day, for so many reasons, that I remember it with love and joy, just as I remember him.  I wish his daughter could have been there, but I know I've done my best for her to know, and that one day she can ask me if she wants to.

May be she will.

May be the airbrushing of me out of her life will be complete by then, and the reconstruction of the last 5 years will have been done so that it makes Daddy into the bad guy.

Maybe I'm just cynical lol!

*kicks cynical*

Not today - in too good a mood lol!

Off to the shower.  All day Spanish course today!

Hola!

Your Shape (for Wii)

Mmmmmm!

I am loving this.

I just did a 45 minute yoga session, after doing the assessment stuff, (15 jumping jacks at speed - a personal best lol!) and aside from the fact that actually, for 35 years old, I am in fine shape, I'm also pretty flexible.  I'm 144lbs, which at 5ft3 is only just above ideal (a matter of a couple of pounds) and I can still go forward fold, downward dog, crocodile, and back up to complete a sun salutation.  My warrior poses have always been good, but I'm happy with my folds.  I can get my hands flat on the floor with so nearly straight legs.  I know 25 year olds who can't do that.

Yes, I'm bragging.  But it's on here.  I can brag on here!

Loving having the camera thing though, it helped me correct my poses a huge amount of times.

I better get on with the day though.