mothers on the verge

to you all. What others may dismiss as commercial twaddle I kind of enjoy, mainly because it makes me laugh. On what other night of the year does the local ratty cafe attempt to turn itself into a passion palace by adding carnation buds to each table and sticking a few dog-eared cardboard hearts up in the window? When else is the Underground heaving with wild-eyed empty-handed men, smug-looking women hefting huge bunches of flowers, and cross-looking other people utterly sick of being sideswiped by three dozen red roses ? The whole thing is hugely amusing. Not to mention the fact that our local flower seller, who usually is slightly on the miserable side, practically skipping with joy with the opportunity to charge panic-buyers over the odds for the last few slightly battered bunches of Carnations. Alpha and I don't bother much as our wedding anniversary is two days after Valentine's Day, but we do small tokens and always a card (a tradition Alpha unwisely tried to drop after ...

and I haven't done anything that I had intended to do earlier. Well, except feed the kids, that is. And even that was cooked by Alpha. I'm a dead loss today. I was halfway to the supermarket, or rather I had just about managed to get the kids ready to go to the supermarket (which takes longer than it does to travel to the supermarket and do the bloody shop), when I suddenly sat down on the sofa and thought "What the hell am I doing? It's pouring with rain outside and actually, I do not have the will or the energy to go into battle with a million other harrassed mothers with their bellowing children, during which the Small(er) One can be relied on to have at least one gargantuan tantrum and Firstborn will burst into bitter tears and vocal remonstrations when denied the family pack of mini-sized Smarties which she considers to be her right, in order to stock the freezer with yet more fish fingers." Bear in mind that by this point I had spent the better part of thir...

Oh dear. I just realised that my last post was on 19th January and it is now 10th February - what the hell happened? How is it that when I was younger time stretched out ahead of me like a never-ending possibility, and now it is nothing more than a big messy jumble? Well, shame on me. I will post properly later, as soon as the kids have had lunch, I've tidied the apartment, finished the ironing, taken a too-big school coat back to Peter Jones and bought Firstborn some new school shoes. Oh yes, and gone to the supermarket, helped Firstborn with her reading, paid some attention to the Small(er) One in the hope that she isn't scarred from neglect in later years, and grunted a few words at Alpha (ditto). (sigh)

I keep my scale under the bed. Nothing symbolic there -- not like I hope it keeps watch on me, or helps the pounds melt off while I sleep. I just hate it and then I don't have to look at it except for the few times a year when I drag it's chipped, dirty visage out and stomp on it. I seem to have settled literally 5 pounds heavier than before I had the Rabbit -- 2 pounds heavier than when my doctor weighed me for my first pregnancy exam. She said I couldn't have gained 3 pounds yet, but she didn't know how hungry I suddenly became after seeing the little pink stripe on that stick in the bathroom. I did get back once -- when I stopped eating. Well, unless you count one bowl of Special K, a bowl of soup, an apple and 6 ounces of chicken every day food. I mean it is food. For a starving person. I decided I hated starving. So I started eating again and the 5 pounds stretched back out and say, "Whew." I wish I didn't mind. But I do. More so because I am also not...

So yesterday I finally sat down and cried for about 2 hours over The Rabbit's school situation. Cried not because I know what's happening, but because I have spent more than one year trying to figure out how to get her into a good school where she can be HAPPY and LEARN (amazing how these two things don't always come together) and had hit my wall after a call in the morning. It seems the school where The Rabbit is now -- a school I am not in love with, but have grown to see has actually been positive for her -- is not where she could end up next year. She could end up ANYWHERE because allegedly every school in the district we live in picks their kids by lottery. Yes, just let that sink in. Yes, the Shirley Jackson short story popped into my mind. I never ever wanted to turn into one of these crazed moms. I never ever believed I would. My mom sent me to the school down the street from us. School was something we worked hard at -- grades were very important to my parents. Bu...

The Prince has a reputation in the family for consuming cupcakes no matter what state they are in at the time. I had thrown a dessicated, three-day old cupcake from the fridge into the trash can a few weeks ago, and The Prince, horrified, grabbed it out and ate it. Granted it was still in a box...Still, it made a huge impression on The Rabbit, which we discovered a few nights ago when I brought new cupcakes home. The Prince to The Rabbit: "Do you want a cupcake?" The Rabbit: "Only Daddy, if you don't get it out of the trash."