Throwback Thursday: Back in 1999

So the other day this popped up in my Facebook news feed, and while this isn't your usual 'Throwback Thursday' post, I really fancied a good old reminisce.

Before I was 'Mom' I was kinda cool. Now I mostly live in badly fitting jeans and old t-shirts I don't bother to replace when they get all saggy, because lets face it, once I'm in the clothing aisle of the supermarket, I'm hunting out cool clothes for the kids or replacing the underwear they've grown out of. I wish I had more time and money to spend on myself, but for now, while the kids are young, I don't and that's life.

Anyhoo, enough of the martyrhood. I thought I'd put together the uniform of my youth for your viewing pleasure. I tried so hard to find an image of the Bloodhound Gang hoodie that I wore for years, but it does not exist, and of course, there are no photos of me because...well...we didn't do that much then did we?

The uniform of my 1999 (all the way up to about 2003).

I still love these clothes. 

The keychain would have to have either your keys or your wallet on the end, tucked into your back pocket. Wannabes who simply clipped it to their beltloops were mocked.

The shoes had to be an acceptable level of battered. New shoes made you look like either a scally (now called a chav) or a wannabe (someone who recently got their Mummy to buy them a whole new wardrobe so they could fit in)

The fact that I still own my keychain and my battered old Buffaloes probably says a lot (pictured above). I attempt to wear the Buffoloes during winter, along with a pair of Vans I still have but having children gave me the hottest feet in the world and aside from twisted socks, there is nothing more annoying than hot feet, so I tend to stick to pumps. I don't need my keychain any more, which used to keep my purse safe in my back pocket but since I now cart round a massive handbag full of cereal bars and receipts, it goes in there. Mr Strawberry however still uses his.

I shall leave you with one of the few photos of me I could find without an ex-boyfriend. Just for fun.

Now please excuse me while I re-evaluate my boring wardrobe....

Short Story - The Adventures of a Garden Spider.

Inspired by a short story I heard last week and an actual event which happened to my little boy last Summer. I may have written it in my head at 4am...it's a little random but I hope it gives you a little joy.

My home was the safest, most beautiful place I’d ever found.

I’d been there for years.

Tucked away in the corner, at the end of a long, thin garden, where the ivy and the hawthorn had grown so thick and so dense that even the smallest of birds had trouble getting inside and therefore my carefully laid plans were left uninterrupted. There was plenty of food milling around too so I never needed to leave my safe abode.

There was also a dog who lived in the garden, a nervous little thing who barked at everything, especially the birds, which kept them away from my area so I didn’t mind her noise at all. They stuck to the safety of the tall trees along the side of the garden, where they were free to nest in peace.

It was perfect.

That was, until the noises changed.

The old dog was gone.

The elderly couple no longer sat on their green, wooden bench near the back door.

A new family must have moved as there was lots of hustle and bustle. The house smelt different when the back door opened.

Everything was changing; the tall trees along the side were chopped down, making my dark corner annoyingly brighter. The birds, at a loss, attempted to nest in my home, but to no avail, thank goodness! So, they went elsewhere and everything was quieter for a little while.

One day a huge wooden shed was erected right next to my home, and it was great because made my little corner even darker and more sheltered than ever before. There was more food and more dark corners to hide in. I thought things couldn’t get any better, but I never considered they’d get much, much worse.

All of a sudden everything changed.

There was noise underneath me, the ground was being cleared. Then great big chunks of my home were being removed. As the human grabbed a handful of ivy, so intertwined it was with the hawthorn, each ivy tendril clinging on to the thorny hawthorn branches around it, it tore huge holes in my domain. Light poured in and my favourite hunting spots were vanishing quickly. I tried not to panic, but kept on the move, trying to stay out of sight.

There were more humans now, smaller ones, presumably their young. They move faster and with a lot more noise.

They stopped removing my precious home, leaving what was left of the overgrowth to create some kind of roof over what they called their new den.

Except it wasn’t their den. It was my home.

I kept moving, trying to find a quiet spot out of sight. But they were everywhere.

Without any warning, a small boy brushed past me, knocking me off the branch. I fell into a strange, dark place. It was warm and so unlike home, but I couldn’t work out where on earth I was.

Hours past.

I felt the sun go down.

The place I was in kept moving, like the walls couldn’t keep still. I had to roll up as small as I could to avoid losing a leg. I had to try to predict where the next gap would be as another set of walls closed in on me. And the heat, I’d never known anything like it. Not even the brightest sunshine of the hottest British Summer day was ever this hot.

“I’ve got an itch” I heard someone say.

Suddenly, everywhere was flooded with light, I couldn’t see for a moment but I could hear the screams.

I felt myself drop to the floor, the moving walls gone; I was surrounded by nothing but air. I stretched out my tired legs just in time to see a large glass land perfectly over the top of me. Pulling my legs in and adjusting them as a piece of paper slid between the glass and the floor, trapping me inside.

The humans were still very noisy, and now they were peering at me in shock through the glass.

“You had that in your pants all afternoon?” yelled a woman.

“It’s huge! How did you not notice that?”

I felt movement, heard a window open, then suddenly the paper was gone and I was falling through the open air.

It was a long way down, but I landed with a soft thud on the grass below and welcomed the darkness of the night, the fresh air and the freedom to finally go and find myself a new home.

Maybe one of these sheds will do…

Nightmare Gossip

I had a really bizarre dream a few nights ago.

I dreamt I was on my way to confront someone about why she wouldn’t let her son be friends with me. When she answered the door, she had a 3 year old at her feet, vying for her attention. When I had decided to go see her, I guess I hadn’t considered how much she might hate me, but once she opened her front door, it turned out to be a fair amount, to the point where when I spoke to her child (whom I could relate to as my own children are a similar age), she plainly told me off.

“Don’t you dare talk to him” she said.

Not wanting to worsen the situation any, I focussed my attention to her, trying to solve the issue.

When I asked why she wouldn’t let me see her son,

She simply said “because you are notorious”.

I couldn’t understand why she would think that about me, so I pressing her further. She said she’d heard all sorts about me, like the time when I had dropped a box of strawberries while running from the police with a stolen Wii.

In the dream, I knew exactly the incident she spoke of and laughed aloud at the twisted ridiculousness that is that story. I explained that what had actually happened was a friend and I were running to my house, yes, with a box of strawberries which I dropped on the way, to get back in time for my curfew. Also, the event took place before the Wii was even invented, in about 1995.

However, she still didn’t believe me. She said she’d heard loads of other stories and that one explanation wasn’t going to clear it up for her.

Now I don’t know why the hell I wanted so badly to be friends with her son, thankfully there was no face or name to embarrass me in the morning.

Weird dream, and unexplainable, except in one thing.

I hate gossip.

I hate the way people won’t talk to each other, be honest with each other, let things stew and then let the Chinese whispers twist the truth far from recognition.

The things I have heard about myself in the past have genuinely shocked and appalled me.

I am reminded of the phrase ‘there’s not smoke without fire’, and I know I’m not the most well-behaved person, and there has certainly been some smoke in the past, but that doesn’t mean I was making great big bonfires.

I wish people would just ask for the frickin truth rather than talk behind people’s backs.

If you care enough to chat about it, chat to the person it’s happening to and get the truth. I reckon, more often than not, these people need love and support much more than they need judgement.

Ed's First Show & Tell

On Fridays Ed's class have show and tell. They only started doing it a few weeks ago, but I hadn't yet managed to help him sort anything for it.
I finally remembered at 7am last Friday morning.
Over half term, I found the time to note down some of Ed's crazy thoughts & we wrote a story together, inspired by a dream he had. Him & Bean drew the pictures, I printed it off & made it into a book for them. They were so proud of themselves.
So when I first heard they were starting show & tell at school, I really wanted him to take his story. But could I find it when I needed it? Nope. I ended up faffing with the computer, printing off a new one & putting together a book at 7:30am. I so don't have time for extra jobs in the morning, we barely get to school on time.
So I proudly sent him to school with his book & when we sat together after school I asked him how show & tell went. He pulled these items out of his pocket. Bloody hell. I didn't even know he had them. Oh, did I really let my son go to school with cotton buds in his pocket? Bit dodgy on the motherhood skills.
Anyway, while I tried to put aside how gutted I was about his story, I asked him how it went & to be fair to him, he gave the most detailed description of his items, why he likes them & what one can do with them, so I'm sure his teacher will be pleased with his wide vocabulary & world knowledge regardless of the danger factor of a 4 year old carrying these around all day.
So I'm still proud. But maybe he could do his book next week?
Bloody hope so after all the effort I put in.

Presumption & Advantage Taking

Yesterday, when I collected my 4 yr old son, Ed from school, the first thing he said to me was;
"Where's Jack's Mummy?"
I knew exactly what he was after.
Jack's Mummy has chocolate coins in her pockets for her kids when they get out of school (a practice I'm not sure how I feel about & will be discussed very soon).
Jack & Ed are good friends. They play together at school everyday, but with this friendship comes bickering and the occasional fisty cuff fight (in a 4 yr old-nice-boy-really way). They often end up in pointless fights over silly things, which we always work through. Thankfully (since I'm so new to this mummy vs school thing), Jack's Mummy is wonderfully approachable. In the beginning when Ed came home telling me Jack was hitting him, I could go to her and we solved the miscommunication the boys were having with no problems.
However, because of this occasional bickering, poor Jack's Mummy does seem to feel a bit guilty. She often shares her children's chocolate coins with mine, which is fine by me, I can often use it to my advantage & bribe them to get to the car/walk home nicely.
But, for Ed to presume that she will give him a coin everyday is definitely a step toooo far.
I know it's very easy to take advantage of other people, it's really easy to slip into presuming someone will help/provide/etc. I often have to berate myself for it. A lot of different people have helped me out in a lot of different ways, & I endeavour to remain grateful & courteous, forever. I do find it very difficult, because I seem to be by nature a particularly selfish and inward focused person, but I try really hard to never forget.
Just because someone has helped me out once in a while, doesn't mean that they will/should/can ever again. 
And I do not want to raise two boys who think they can presume to expect anything from another human being. I want them to be independant, but to be able to accept help graciously. Having friends you can fall on in times of need and whom you can be there for when they need you is one of the joys of life. I guess it's about finding a good balance.

Ed never got his chocolate yesterday. I had told him he could have one out of my secret stash (because bribery works) if he walked to the car nicely, but then he ran into the road without holding my hand & therefore lost it. Silly boy.

Any thoughts?

Small Town Living

One of the things I've noticed since starting the whole school run thing every day is that so many people are related to each other. 

Is it just me that finds this weird?

My eldest son has a 'buddy', which is a boy in year 5 I believe, who comes over to reception occasionally. To be honest I couldn’t tell you exactly what the buddy's role is, but it’s something along the lines of providing the reception class with older children who can show them around the school, help them, be someone they can go to with issues like bullying, help them with their learning, etc etc. 

Anyhoo, on the way to and from school, we quite often have a child walk past us whispering to his mum that my son is his cousin/brother/friends cousin’s buddy. This happens so often, and by so many different children I’m beginning to be a bit freaked out. I'm just waiting for one of them to say it’s his uncle brother’s stepson’s buddy...which could totally happen in this town.

Having thought about it, I know why it freaks me out. My family is spread out all over the UK & I only have a few family members in this town. Everyone in my family either went to Uni or joined the forces, met someone and moved elsewhere. Only a few didn’t.  I have further opinions on this but they are just plain bitchy and ill-informed so I shall jolly well keep them to myself.
What about you? Do you find your relatives are flung far and wide? Do you live in the town you were born and bred in?

365 Day Photo Challenge. Day 3

I love the entirely random things you see in London town. 
I went there 2 weeks ago, and this is what i saw on the way to the station.
I still have no idea why two people so dressed up would be carrying a dingy so far from water. 
Even funnier was people's reactions. Only a few years ago, we would have all just stopped and stared, but now everyone held their camera phones up to capture the mad moment.