We arrived in after late night shopping Clearwater to find her, arm in sling on the couch doing her homework. I tried not to laugh out loud. I am sure this was just for my benefit, so I asked her how she was, and did all the oohing and aaahing in all the right places. She was a happy person then because we had food. There was an argument before with Mammy2 before she came out to pick me up. There was no food in the house, apparently. No food covers no pizza and no munchies. There was plenty of food just none of it she liked.

Shopping at 8 o'clock in the evening, you'd think the place would be quiet enough, but it was fairly busy. Do people not sleep anymore? I reckon if you dropped in at 12 there would be people wandering around like extras from Shaun of the dead standing starring at the 2 for 1 and trying to figure out if the REALLY needed more shower gel. We are a sucker for those promotions, its because she works her way through more toiltries in an average day then you'd have hot dinners.
Now we bulk buy and hide it. The poor middle drawer in our chest of drawers is weighed down with more shower gel and shampoo. It works well, because she will had 'her list' over to us. This puts the fear of god into us most times. It will have regular stuff like Time Outs and Snax crips and then she'll come along with something like 3 eye pencils.

That is a sight to behold, 2 lesbians in the makeup section trying to decipher what's an eye pencil and what's not. You'd think one of the assistents would take pity on us and offer to help. Luckily Mammy2 is more au fait with this sort of thing then I would be. I am afraid to ask how come.

Today was supposed to be a half day, but at 8.40ish I get a Call Me, which is basically here way of saying, I couldn't be bothered wasting my credit, get in touch. I rang her.
"Shelly, today was supposed to be a half day, but now we have to stay in until 2. Can you write me a note or tell them to let me go at lunch time?"
Silence from my end. Did she think I came down in the last shower?
"Well, you're in there now, you might as well stay until 2"
I could feel the glare coming down the phone.
"Fine"
"Grand, bye"

I love these sisterly chats we have.

Slings and potatoes

Just after lunch I get a phone call from Mammy2 saying the school had rang and that the kid was after falling down the stairs and could she come up and pick her up. It sounded a lot worse then it was, the vice reckoned she had sprained her shoulder/arm and that she would need an x-ray.
Mammy2 picked her up and headed to A&E in the Mater and they were seen quite quickly. She is now sporting a lovely sling, which will give her lots of attention. She sounds fine though, I rang to talk to her and she was all like "Yeah, I was walking down the stairs and then I fell and my arm totally fell off, not off, like bent backwards etc" Ten minutes at home and the sling has been thrown to one side and she's txting everyone to tell them how sore her elbow is. She's gas.

Thank god Mammy2 was at home, she's been off sick for the last week and I'd say she'll be out some of this week. Her boss is a royal prick and was being very bitchy over email when Mammy2 emailed them to inform them she was going to be out. I want to go into the office and wallop him. He's fuming that they can't get rid of her. Isn't he a lucky man he's never known anyone with depression. Or maybe he has and they've since stopped hanging around with him because he's an insensitive prick. Who knows.

I'm working late tonight and the kid wants a spud dinner. I had though after 8 would be too late for dinner, but apparently not. She's dying for mashed potatoes. I won't complain. Another fan of potatoes is always good in my book. Weekend went far too quickly for my liking, was unwell for most of Saturday. I think I might be a bit rundown. Or maybe its called old age and I should stop socialising so much.

We're into the week before the period. The body has been acting funny, but again that could be down to old age and not me being pregnant. We don't take a test anymore until at least a week after the due date. I think both myself and Mammy2 are hoping and thinking about it, but not actually talking about it out loud. We might think we'll jinx it or something.

Stressed Teenagers

I get a text from her yesterday telling me ring her as soon as I could. Paniced I ring her. She informs me I have to write her a note giving out to her Maths teacher. The maths teacher reprimanded her and D and sent them outside to cool down. I asked why she did that, as she'd hardly do it for no reason.
"Okay, this is what happened" The sentence that puts the fear of god into us. "I was messing with D and then I was putting my head up the back of her jumper and then we wer pretending we were a Chinese Dragon and Miss R just gave out to us, for like no reason" I told her I couldn't really talk in work, I was too busy trying not to laugh at her and D pretending to be a feckin Chinese dragon. I got "Fine " as a response.

She's at home today, she was on a half day anyway and last night she was going on about how stressed she was and stuff. So we left her at home seeing as it was a half day. I got a phone call from Mamymy2 a while ago. She was heading up town and I asked how the kid was. She was grand, D , the best mate dropped around and they were de-stressing. For de-stressing, read croissants and tea, and sitting on the couch watching Buffy. The idea of her stressing is laughable but she does actually get stressed. And its usually when she's put off doing school work until the last minute.

Decorum. What's that again.

I'm convinced she's unwell. No, I'm not talking about bird flu. She was getting ready for school this morning and mentioned how she had double chemistry and was looking forward to it. Yes, I did say looking forward to it. I would have taken her temperture only for I was too busy trying to remember whether she took butter or salad cream on brown bread and whether she had tomatoes. She has the strangest lunches ever. I don't know where she gets her odd eating habits from. I suppose the main thing is she eats them all and is still starving when she comes home.

She is pondering doing chemistry in college. Its great to be at that age when you can consider lots of things isn't it. At least she's gone from 'taking a year out' to actually thinking about college. Then I think she's moving to Italy. Where you don't have to pay taxes, or so she thinks.

She's got some sort of infection going on at the moment and we are treated to a running commentary of what exactly is going on in her vagina. We're a close family, but not that close. Trying to make sure stop talking about it only makes it worse. I had to threaten her with grounding and then she told me to cover my ears and she 'whispered' to Mammy2 about what she thought was wrong with her. One should look on the bright side and be thankful that she wasn't in her usual position on the toliet, roaring out to us so that all of the neighbours know exactly what's going on in her bits.

I'm sure there are some people out there in the middle of a mouthful of pasta when they hear her dulcet tones yell

"Ah jaysus, I'm as itchy, do you think I've got a STI"

Manners? What are they?

The last few weeks, the kid seems to be slipping into full time cheeky mode. From her favourite phrase "Will you make me tea" and "But EVERYONE else is going". There are times when I have to seperate her and Mammy2. Mammy2 finds it amusing when they argue and all I can hear from the child is "SHELLY, she's bullying me" etc. As if anyone could get away with bullying her. We had a discussion about the cheekiness and arguments etc and as usual she blamed her period for it. Well, it is the longest bloody, no pun intended, period I've ever come across. So much so, that I forgot to purchase sanitary items last night and this morning at 6.45 I was wandering around Smithfield looking for a shop that was open. I was under the impression that Spars and Centras open at like 6 but no. Locked doors and no lights were all that greeted be in my elusive search for your winged friends.
I arrived back and I had barely handed them over when she asked for breakfast. She got a raised eyebrow and a "Make your own breakfast" response. I think this getting her not to be cheeky is going to take some work.

Mammy2 had a run-in yesterday with her, as she's at home sick this week. The kid arrives in, KNACKERED and STARVING and immediately asks Mammy2 what's for dinner. Not a "How are you feeling?" etc. So Mammy2 took her time in making pizza for the runt. There were a couple of comments along the lines of "Where's my dinner?" She's some chancer.

The bould depression crept up on Mammy2. That and her boss being a right prick. Some days
I want to waltz into that office and bate seven shades of crap out of that man. But she's at home and safe enough. Its not a bad bout, but enough to keep her away from work and social interaction.

Yeah, that's not bad. Bad is when she won't move out of the bed or stop hugging me. God knows, I'm not a fan of too much hugging.

During our little chat last night, I mentioned that sister's night once a week was too much and could we go to once a forthnight. I grabbed my helmut and waited for the explosion. She took it well. Chances are , later on in the safety of her bedroom, she was probably casting some spell that will involve sticking my elbows to my knees or something like that. I mentioned wanting some time to myself, to maybe paint. Her head snapped around on her shoulder and her glare was fixated on me. I heard thunder rumbling in the distance as a bird flew straight into the window and then slid down the pane. I swore I heard Tubular Bells but I can't be sure.

"Painting is it?"

Art is her thing. It doesn't even register with her that I used to paint, sketch, whatever a lot and then I stopped. No-one is allowed to paint except her. She softended somewhat and the vultures that were flying around my head seemed to head off in the direction of Lidl. They'd heard
about a sale obviously.

And so it is, I have one night a week to myself. I'm sure I won't know what to do with the time. Then again, I'm sure I'll find something to do. Like maybe painting!

Too much love making!

The baby attempts finished, its now all down to the body and how the ovaries take it. Divas that they are.

I actually turned to Mammy2 yesterday morning and said
"Don't think take this the wrong way, but thank god we don't have to have sex"

Whilst, babymaking is fun, don't get me wrong. Its the whole not being spontaneous that's hard. The, we need to make love/imseminate in the next 30 mins type of thing.

But we're done now for another month. Weekend was a flurry of activity. Clothes shopping and a gig. A band called The Delays. Where I felt quite old. But it wasn't as bad as I thought. I wasn't the oldest there and I managed to stay for the whole lot. The friend was loving it. And it was shorter then I thought. Interesting way to spend a Saturday night, usually I would be curled up on the couch with Mammy2 watching Xena. Hey, what's wrong with that?

Mammy2 was busy conquering small countries for most of Saturday night.

It has been a while since I've been out on the town, so to speak of a Saturday. It was quite scary to see the state of some people and this was only after 11, the night was only starting for some people.
One girl was propped up against a wall and looked completly out of it. There was no sign of her friends anywhere. I wonder what kind of mates you'd have to leave you in an obviously intoxicated state by yourrself in the middle of the city. We tried to get her to walk with us to a taxi rank but she was insistent on waiting for a cab which was supposed to be coming to pick her up. Considering she was on Grafton Street, I was unsure where the cab was coming from, but we couldn't convince. I hope this made for a funny story the following morning.

Sunday was spent with the in-laws, Mammy2 hadn't seen them in a while, so we went out for Sunday dinner, leaving the teennger to veg on the couch. We were going to bring her with us, but it was her last day before mid-term and she was doing a lot of coughing. In other words, she was coming down with something and wanted the attention.

So instead of having her go on about how sick she was and how she couldn't go to school today, we left her at home. On our way out to the in-laws, she rings us asking us can she go to Kill to see the boyf. I asked where the bout of tonsilitis had gone, but she insisted she was fine. We recommended she not go down and stay indoors. We got home after 6, doing the grocery shopping on the way. She was in a foul mood. She's s sociable creature, so all day in the apartment by herself made her into a lovely lady. She insisted on us having sisters night even though I have told her numerous times that its been moved to mid-week. She demanded one of us go over for DVD. Needless to say, that worked like a charm for her. Eventually, we told her to get out of her funk or shut up. She pouted for a while and then told us the reason she was acting like a prize bitch was because she couldn't play the guitar.

Whilst, trying to take her tantrum seriously, we tried asking all the right questions about the guitar playing and tabs and stuff. Mammy 2 is much better at this then I am , as whenever I talk about tabs, the kid fixes me with this look of dis-belief. As if to say, I know nothing about them so I should stop talking.

Lets do an insemination, lets make a baaaaaaaaby

If you're a fan of the L Word, the title of this post will make you chortle. If you're not, you should
start watching it. Its very good. Its that time of the month again, if you're at all sqeaumish about syringes or sperm, then I would advise you to skip this post. Its oluvation on Saturday so our lovely man drove up to the big smhoke yesterday. He's a very accommodating chap. He rang us to tell us he was calling over after 10. We were out at Joseph, the musical, and left the keys with the kid to let him in. We get a phone call at around 11.00 from the man himself, saying he can't get in and when we tried ringing the kid, she hung up. We were not impressed.

Legged it home and let the man in. He suggested that we might have a go last night if you'll pardon my french. Whilst I was delighted, its quite hard to go from slightly tipsy and relaxed to turned on, but hey he was here, why waste time.

As it turns out , it looks like we're going to try loads this time. Mammy2 is delighted with the baby making, although personsally I think she has the harder job. I just get to lie back, she has to take care of aim, amount, making sure stuff stays in. This morning was another attempt, I know some people wake up thinking about sex, and fair play to them ,chances are they're teenage boys. So our man did his thing, whilst Mammy2 tried to get me worked up. Talking about tractors, female guards and potatoes really did it for me, I have to say. There's nothing like thinking about a scmexy new Holland tractor to get me in the mood. I was kidding by the way. This evening is another attempt and tomorrow if the man is up for it, pun intended.

The drama with the kid was something about jealousy, I gave up after that. She gets very jealous, which I think is a titch trait. Although I appear to have grown out of it. Matured is perhaps a good word. Stop sniggering at the back. I am mature.

This weekend, more baby attempts and I'm on call. The excitement of it all. I'm going to a gig. Yes I did say gig, the gospel according to teenagers says that concert is out, gig is in. A friend has chosen to help me with my music affliction. Apparently, having any eurovision song on your ipod warrents 'help'. There's some band called The Delays playing. Never heard of them logged on to their site and they sound nothing like the Backstreet Boys. I was very disappointed.

However, I always make a rule of trying something once, except brocoli. It is spawn of the devil and should never be touched under any circumstances.

Valentine's day and Malevolent spirits

Never, ever try to be spontaneous on Valentines Day is my advice to you. We had decided already that we were going to use this evening as Date night and so Mammy2 was going to cook dinner whilst I had the hard task of picking up a bottle of wine and desert. I know, I know, you win some, you lose some.

I started in Marks, they always have lovely deserts. I arrived into the dessert aisle and I was left looking a porridge. I can only imagine Mammy2's surprise when after cooking a lovely starter and dessert, I plop some lovely porridge in front of her. Even I, who's not a fan of dessert at all, know where porridge rates on a scale of something nice after dinner. Well below apricot stew I would think.
So I move on past the queues in Marks, to the Tesco in Jervis. Their cream buns laughed in my face and I was sure I could hear whispers of "Don't even think about trying to shop on the day you're supposed to be cooking" The phone rings. Its Mammy2. Turns out she's not having the best of luck with buying the starter and/or main course. I ask where she is. She's in the same Tesco as me. Either we both think alike or we're both extremely lazy. Either way, it turns out Tesco don't know the meaning of the word fresh fish, well, this Tesco at least, and not on Valentine's day. We give up on the idea of cooking dinner and head for a glass of wine and chat, bypassing the queues of people.

It turned out to be a lovely evening, we decided to risk going to dinner in a restaurent nearby as its never full so the chances of it having a load of couples drooling all over each were going to be slim and none. A lovely meal and a chat, only interrupted by the kid ringing to remind us that if it was date night, this meant she got munchies. As if we'd forget. We value our lives too much.

When we got home, she talked non-stop until at one stage I thought she was going to turn blue and fall over. This is what happens when we don't come home until late. She has to get day's worth of 'news' out of her. Its news to her, although why we must hear all about how her mate J is going out with a guy named after a drug, Smack or Slap or Slurp or whatever the hell he's called, is beyond me. I suppose whenever it sounds like we're not listening, we can always throw in the old "How's Soup and J doing these days".
Last week, her best mate D and her boyf were walking somewhere and very nearly got possessed by a malevolent spirit as opposed to a benevolent spirit. The difference being the latter is a more casual spirit, he's not really bothered about possession, he's more out for a stroll and if he gets a chance , he'll wish you well. The other type, which is obviously what they saw is evil and wants to take control of your body or something like that. I decided not to ask where exactly they were walking. God knows, if word gets out about a malevolent spirit hanging around a shopping centre, panic may set in. People will stockpile beans and peas and pray for a miracle.

Between this and the annoucement she made the other day about having nightmares for the last 2 and half years. I'm amazed she gets any sleep at all. And they're never nightmares about falling off a cliff or anything normal like that. Oh no, they are usually post-apocalyptic involving headless people, people being raped and murdered and so on and so forth. My dreams about squirrels and potatoes positively pale in comparion. I mean , how can I compete with her dreams, unless I put the bloody squirrel on a motorbike and stuck a spud gun in his hand. Even then, I wouldn't come close.

Half way through her mid-term and so far we haven't had the "I'm so bored" speech. This could have something to do with the PS2 and her endless supply of Charmed DVDs. I mean how many seasons were filmed? Anytime you switch on Living TV, its on. I believe I have only seen one episode repeated. They should rename Living to Charmed TV or Endless Reality TV shows.

Games, games, games

I had an early night last night, the body still complaining about the weekend's activities. I awoke at just after to 12 to find the bed still empty. For those of you who are familar with Mammy2's sleeping patterns, basically as much as possible, you will know that being up past 12 is madness for her. I got up and arrived out in the living room to find her declaring war on some other small country. She got a few pc games for her birthday and things have gone downhill since. I informed her of the time, she had no clue. She gets very engrossed in things. On my way back to bed, I stuck my head into the kids's room and its like a scene from Shaun of the Dead. She's sitting with her mouth open, eyes unblinking at the telly whilst she plays some game we got her. The PS2 arrived yesterday, hence I had a feeling there were a few late nights ahead of us.

People who say technology is taking over the world might just be right.

She's on her mid-term so there won't be any arguments about bed-time, for now. I forsee problems though. Then again , she's a teenager, when is there not problems. We're supposed to be buying her a ticket for Metallica because EVERYONE is going and she can't be the only one not going. A very persausive argument I must say. We countered it with the old "We'll see". She responsed with eye rolling. I love the adult conversations we engage in.

To give her credit, she did do her cleaning task yesterday, the hoovering, whilst I was declared missing under what has to be a record pile or ironing. I suspect some of it is my own fault. I insist on ironing pyjamas. Look, there's logic there. If a fire breaks out, do you really want to be standing outside the apartment in creased pyjamas? Well, do you. No, I rest my case.

Ky Jelly and boots

Saturday was a rollercoaster. After vowing never to go out again on Friday, Friday night beckoned and a friends leaving do was on. We had to attend. At this stage my poor body wanted nothing more to do with me and my shenigans but it came along for the ride. Hence when the alarm went off at 9 on Saturday morning to indicate the beginnings of the shopping trip with the kid, I was death warmed up. Nonetheless, I arose, got dressed and we hit the shops for 10. She decided to go out in what I can only kindly describe as her f-Me outfit. Knee length boots with heels to match, tights, ripped to shreds , some sort of hanky that doubled as a skirt and a small top. I was a already anticipating the stares. And had my glare firmly in place. First stop was China Blue for school shoes. The shoes that she was currently wearing were from when shes started school way back in first year. I think an investment was in order. She found the ones she wanted. After trying them on, she was putting her kicking boots back on when the zip got stuck. On both of them. The drama was only starting. She was bordering on hysterical. The shop assitant was lovely, she helped as best she could, whilst seeing to customers.

I eventually persuaded her that it would be best if we got a taxi home and she changed out of the boots. Mammy2 would sort everything out. She was near tears, muttering about how her day was ruined etc. but I managed to calm her down enough to her home. Once home, Mammy2 worked her magic on the boots to get them off which was a good start. This involved KY jelly and a lot of finger work. The kid thankfully found this hilarious and couldn't resist making quips. Once she had got over to Why have you got KY Jelly. She was unlikely to believe the insemination story. Once she had changed into a trousers, thankfully, we were back out shopping again. Less of the stares now. We shopped until 12. She can fairly run around a shop , leaving me standing in the middle with underwear hanging off one ear and pyjamas off the other. She got most of what she wanted including new f-Me boots. Bought out of her guitar fund money. They are even taller then the ones she had previous. How she walks in them I'll never know.

Lunch in Lemon Jelly , just because she worked there on her work shadowing and she wanted to show off. We got home as the rugby kicked off. How was that for timing. As we arrived in the door, laden down with bags, Mammy2's ass was just about visible behind the couch . She was on full cleaning mode. The rest of the evening was spent watching the rugby, a dismal first half, fantastic second from the Irish, and sleeping. I was shattered and actually went to bed at 7. Unheard of , I know.

I was just no use to anyone. Mammy2 was delighted as she could hog the PC and play her Destroy the world games. Sunday was spent working on my other projects, I get sick of the extra work I have to do sometimes. But sure, its worth it for the extra funds it brings in. The kid headed to hang with J, the boyf down in Kill. She likes it down there apart from his bitch of a sister, who had the nerve to ask was she moving in when she called down this time. Like, the kid has been there twice. I've a good mind to head down to Kill and wallop her. But I won't.

Staplers

I am so tired. We were supposed to attend a table quiz last night. We arrived on time, they decided to start the quiz early. I mean does Irish time mean nothing any more? The kid was in great form when I got home. It was Thursday and closer to the weekend. That and the fact that we go clothes shopping on Saturday. Yes , its all good as far as she's concerned. She brought in a poster she had designed for soem disability competition. It is very good. She was happy enough with it and the art teacher was waxing lyrical about her apparently. She was mortified in Maths though, or so she says when the maths teacher was giving back the results of the maths exam, she got 50, not happy, but the teacher asked herself and another girl to stay back after class. She was giving out to the other
girl who dropped down into her class from honours maths because she did so bad in her test. She turned to the kid and mentioned seeing the poster in the staff room and how impressed she was with it. I'd say the kid was glowing.

It was so cold yesterday, she was straight into her jammies and dressing gown and onto the couch to watch charmed. I fought my way through a mountain of laundry. Seriously, I feel like I work in a dry cleaners sometimes. There is a never ending cycle of it. And the washing machine is the most unfriendly household item. It doesn't recognise the word program. You have to tell it that it really should rinse the clothes once its washed them. Then you have to tell it that it might be a good idea if it spun them as they're quite wet. Sort of takes the whole automany thing out of the equation. Don't get me started on the noise of it. Just because its working , it wants all the attention.

Next week is ovulation. We haven't had an attempt since before christmas and I'm in a positive mood about this one. I'm also hoping the old ovaries are more open to new things and have taken a fresh look at insemination.

Did I mention how glad I was that its Friday? Well, I will. I'm glad its Friday. The weekend looms ahead with rugby, the lovely Michalak is playing for France tomorrow against us. He is such a yummy man.

The kid is heading down to the boyf's again. I think she likes it because its the country.
Even though she loves Dublin and all it offers, I think sometimes, even though she'd never admit it, she missed the countryside. I do as well. The smell of silage or hay. Insert other nostalgic moments here. You get the picture.

I'm off to find something in my drawer to eat. The stapler is looking tasty right now. I wonder what the nutrional value of staples are these days.

Sisters night and arguments

Yesterday turned into a pants day. Mainly because myself and Rachel argued and I hate arguing. It was over stupid stuff as well. We had a discussion about it and we think it might be down to a few things, the main one being we need to get date night back. The average week just flows past. Home from work, chat about school, dinner, tv or the computer and bed and you get into a routine. A relationship requires work so we have decided to work at it more. The kid was not impressed
with having to flee to the room again. We never argue, we usually reach a point where I frown a lot and Mammy2 senses there's something wrong! It sounds like I'm the one who's always right but I wouldn't say that.

Things were sorted, I headed to the shops to get munchies for sisters night and rent out a horror. There were 2 kids and when I say kids I mean kids, around 9 or 10 standing outside the Spar stopping people as they went in. When I got up to the entrance , they stopped me and asked if I would be buy them 20 player blue. I told them I wouldn't. Thankfully I wasn't stoned to death. Those kids can be rough sometimes. They just muttered something and moved onto the next
person. I wonder who would buy cigerattes for kids?

We rented out The Descent, it wasn't scary as I thought although that could be more to do with the running commentary I got from herself then anything else. I think she feels if she talks over the film, its not as scary. And then she asks me what's happening. Chances are I will be unable to recap because she's been talking about school or D, the best mate or J the boyf. I love the way the night is titled sister's night when it should actaully be titled Spoil the kid night. She gets munchies,
back scratchs, tickles and massages if she so wishes. I get 2 bottles of beer and various appendages stuck in my face whilst she talks about everything and anything and then says she thinks the film is shite. Or when it is scary, she grabs a hold of my arm so tightly, I lose feeling in it.

I suppose the film was a step from the usual tripe we rent. Shaky sets and actors who I've only ever seen in soup commercials.

She was up 'studying' half the night, or so she tells me. I must have that 'just born yesterday' face.

Just out of a meeting, have I mentioned how I hate meetings. Just spent 60 minutes of my life in a room with people talking about stuff that doesn't concern me. As I said to someone earlier, I did not spend 4 years in college studying programming so I could attend meetings all day. On the plus side, I got work to do.

Speaking of Mam yesterday, I met Mammy2 for a pint and a chat on the way home and in the pub guess what song came on. No guess? Jeebus, you're no fun. The Eagles. Taking it easy. Yes, that song haunts us. Its the one we most associate with Mam being in the hospital. When she was coming near the end of her sojourn here on Earth with us mere mortals, the noise of all the machines
got a bit much so one of the lovely nurses who took care of her swtiched the radio on to her fav station, Country Fm106 and one of the times we went to sit with her, it was on. At the time, I thought it was so ironic, she couldn't be taking it any easier, drugged to the eyeballs
and hooked up to every machine possible. I guess she was kicking back her heels at that stage in Heaven with Bob. Its strange, sometimes it makes me smile and sometimes I feel sad. I've got a dark sense of humour, it gets me by!

Have I mentioned that its not a good idea when I have too much time on my hands. Note to self, take up a hobby that involves being away from the PC for a while.

Work shadowing...

She got on fine, thank god. Four guys working in the place so I assumed there was lots of hair flicking and flirting going on. She claims there was niether. She had to clean tables , wash up and sort the sugar out. I have no idea what 'sorting the sugar out' but for me with my over active imagination, it sounds like something from a mafia film. As a result of being on her feet for most of the day,she was exhausted yesterday evening and straight into her jammies and onto the computer. I'd be worried if we arrived home and she was on the couch reading or something. Its either the computer or digital tv with its 24 hours of Will and Grace or Charmed. Sometimes I feel like those witches are living with us and when I'm making tea I wonder if Phoebe would like a cup too.

Things were going quite smoothly until a texting conversation resulted in all hell breaking loose. She only gets to see the boyf once , maybe twice a week so understandably she would get annoyed when he cancels cause he wants to hang with his best mate. I will take her side in any argument with someone outside the family, its called a blood link! So, the texts go back and forth and she works herself into a tizzy so much so that when Mammy2 heads into the room with a cup of tea for her, she's sobbing on the bed. In this situations I am about as useful as a straight man at a lesbian orgy. Seriously, I do not know what to do. I put my hands in my pockets and offer to make tea. Mammy2 has her wrapper up in her arms and is saying all the right things. I pace. It works for a while except I get dizzy. I offer chocolate whilst Mammy2 tries to find out what caused the upset.
She's sick of the way his band always comes first over everything and he sent back a bitchy text about her being paranoid or something and she lost the rag and a few catty txts flew back and forth.

I will never understand the txting relationship, if I was having an argument and I couldn't be face to face with the person, then the next best thing would be a phone conversation. But no, she was intent on txting. More words of comfort from Mammy2, a line of cups of tea from me, hey I can be hepful. We left her to sort things out over text whilst we awaited the outcome of it in the safety of the living room, each of us grabbing a book as we prepared for a long night of analysis. She plodded out of the room eventually with a lump of tissue sticking out of her nose as her eyes looked tiny between all the redness. She calmed down a lot and sorted things out. The boyf eventually rang and by the time she's finished talking to him she was ready to be tucked into bed. Thank god. The drama of it all. I hope the boyf is prepared to get walloped when he comes up at the weekend.

In other news, its production week so Mammy2 will probably be doing a bit of work this week. Ahem. Its been quite strange these last few days as well. I've been thinking of Mam a lot. Not that I don't think of her a lot, like she's the mammy, of course I think of her a lot but usually I have loads of things on or to-do so I don't dwell on all that happened. Lately, with a few of my other work projects starting to wind down I find I have more time on my hands to stop and think and I wouldn't be a fan of it. Its hard to put into words how much you can miss someone so much. So I won't even try.

There are so many things I want to ask her, about how we're doing with the kid, are we doing the right thing? Are we doing a good job? What would she do differently? Is she peeved she's up there and not down here? I would be, but she's a lot more easy going then I am. Are we giving the kid too much pocket money? Did we organise the funeral okay? Am I looking after the family alright? Did Bob Marley really go to heaven and if so is she chasing him around the place. Enough of the meanderings about Mam, or I shall rename this blog The Mammy. Hey, that's not a bad idea. She was such an amazing woman, one could write a book on her if there was time to spare. But alas, I have web sites to work on and potatoes to eat. That and I don't have the stamina or the inclination to write a book.

Let the nail biting commence

She's got her first day of work shadowing as they call it. She couldn't get a tatoo place to take her, so Mammy2 asked a friend who works in a cafe in town could she work there for the day. Just to get her used to the idea of mingling with people and speaking up for herself. So this morning at 10
she started. She only has a few hours and she'll only be doing a few jobs, like cleaning tables and taking orders. Myself and Mammy2 are in ribbons.

Its like her first day at school all over again. I hope she does okay, she will base all future expierence in working on this day. Please let it go alright. She's been in great form. Actually volunterarily studying, yes, you did read that correctly, studying her English yesterday with Mammy2. Macbeth, it
sounds like the most depressing play ever. She met the boyf's family on Saturday when she travelled down to the wilds of Kildare where he's from. The sister is a right bitch apparently. Got a load
of the makeup on the kid and decided she didn't like her. According to the kid, she's a scanger, then again everyone who doesn't wear black is a scanger in her book, so I wouldn't go by that. But anyone who knowingly gives the kid hassle is in the bad books straight away. Thankfully, his mother was lovely and makes the best cup of tea ever.

Its called the tea rating apparently. The mam offered her food but she refused as she was afraid with her picky eating situation, she didn't want to offend the mother. Thoughtful teenagers, who knew!

Now, I'm waiting until its a safe time to call her and see how she's getting on.

Returns to nail biting.

An Open Letter to My Ovaries

Dear Ovaries,

Yes its me, the 'vessel' as you so kindly refer to me as. Its been a long time since we've actually talked, as opposed to the delph throwing that's been going on for the last few months. I appreciate that not consulting with you about the intrusions you started expierencing around last May wasn't the best of ideas. but how was I to know you lot would get in such a strop? Let me start by defining the job of an ovary and perhaps we can work from there. To go all clinical on you:

ovaries are the two female organs that produce ova and female sex hormones located on either side of the uterus near the ends of the Fallopian tubes.

Let me translate. The uterus is what you refer to as the jiggy jiggy room and the Fallopian Tube is where you guys watch Big Brother? Any clearer?

Since last May, there have been one or two, slight understatement , little fellas joining you looking for a bit of attention and action shall we say. Now I know they can be rude and at times quite brash, but is there any need to boot them back down the fallopain tube as soon as they swim all the way up it? Your behaviour of late has been nothing short of shocking. Out all hours, bottles of gin lying around the place, falling in the door at 3 in the morning , eyeing up Mammy2 because you're feeling horny. You know the rules. And yet you consisently ignore the little swimmers. How on earth are you going to move up the career ladder if your entire life consists of getting hammered, hanging around the top of the fallopians smoking and drinking, and then throwing yourself down it like a slide at mosney and attaching yourself via staples to the inside of the womb, which is when you start expressing an interest in the swimmers who at this stage are nursing broken tails.

You can also be quite cruel to some of the other organs. Referring to the kidney as the piss pot is not nice , likewise mentioning the liver tasting lovely with some onions and gravy isn't going to win you any friends. Don't tell me its someone else, the constant cackling gives you away. You sound like someone who smokes 60 a day.

Don't think I don't notice the extra ructions you kick up then when period time comes around either.
So, we are all adults here. We all know the story. Around the time for you to head down the fallopian tubes can you practice being a little more Zen? Leave out some tea and cookies for the swimmers. Welcome them? Maybe then my innards would be less like Iraq and more like Tasmania. I do think we can work this out and the end result will be a bouncing baby and then you will be so proud of yourselves. Don't you want a picture to hang on the wall of the ovum?
I would recommend yoga but I hear the classes for your size are quite limited. So can you mark the calendar for the next effort and lets give this a go?

Yours sincerely,
The Vessel.

The trials of parenting Part 345345

How does one stop from assaulting a man who makes comments regarding what age your little angel and stating she is old enough? Answers on a postcard please. The kid travels via Dublin Bus every morning to school and once a week this man gets the bus with her. A few weeks ago, he started chatting her up. Well asking her questions about what age she was. I mean, does a school uniform not indicate anything to people any more. If you're not in school, you should not be chatting up someone in a school uniform. Its pretty straightforward methinks. I gave him a few glares this morning, not that he noticed when you consider I was probably glaring at his knees as he's a bit taller then I am.

Back from a week in Paris for Mammy2's birthday, such a beautiful city. We did all the touristy things, The Eiffel tower, the Lourve, Museum D'orsay and Notre Dame. Fabulous city, fabulous time. We returned, hoping the kid was still hangin'. A few of our mates took care of her whilst we were away. Fair play to them. So we were returned and the kid was in the apartment with the boy J and C, the best mate, who was called in to take care of them after they were THREATENED by someone living in the apartment block. Someone seen them hanging out in the apartment and yelled at them to get out and then threatened to break J's neck. I am unsure how much of this is truth and how much exagertaed, but it all seems quite strange. Naturally this was just what we wanted after a break away, arrive into a drama. There was a talking to, tears etc and then a long talk about what happens when we go away.

We have decided at this stage not to head off again unless she's either in Holland or someone is staying 24/7 with her. Its a pain but something always seems to happen when we head off. Then again she is a teenager and as its been said before Drama is a main food group for them.

Its been so long since I've updated the blog, I realise that I had forgotten to mention the infamous parent teacher meeting. It went really well. We were bricking it but all things considered everything is an improvement on last year. How could it not. So the meeting went fine apart from a few points to note:
1) She sleeps in English.
2) She threatened her art teacher that I would beat her up if she continued hassling the kid.
3) Her attendence.

We were happy campers and we even met the year head, the one who caused all the heartache last year and we were amazed with her. She wasn't giving out. We weren't sure how to react. Only one teacher asked who we were and what was our relationship to each other. Once Mammy2 mentioned partner, there was lots of shuffling of papers and straight onto to talk about the kid.

She appears to be doing well in all subjects, although struggling with chemistry. I have decided to undertake to help her with it. It seemed like a good idea at the time until I opened the chemistry book. Lets just say it will be fun trying to explain it, I may have to take it up as a subject myself!

Herself and D, the best mate are thinking of taking up martial arts, for her anger issues. She took this word and ran with it. Myself and Mammy2 had a chat with her about her temper and may have said that she needs to watch her anger and do something to channel it. 10 minutes later she's on the phone to the boyf, talking about how we think she needs anger management classes. So, they're going to check their 'schedules' and see what the story is with what time they have free. I wouldn't see them do more then one class but I could be proven wrong.