What's the point?

So what is the point of being here then? At the moment I feel like going to bed as there is nothing else I want to do. There are things I could be doing and should be doing, but I can't be bothered with any of them.
Why are we here? I just can't see the point of being here. Not that I want to go anywhere else at the moment, but I just don't get it.

We're born because our parents had a bit of nookie. We spend years learning things. We do jobs. But why? Every job is a man-made creation. It benefits those who come after us, or sometimes it has the complete opposite effect. Human's will eventually kill the planet and no one will be here anymore.

There are jobs selling things; jobs writing things; jobs altering things; jobs building things...
These jobs have been devised by people over the last few centuries. They didn't exist before this and the world survived.
Where are we all heading? For the ground? For heaven or hell? That's a matter of opinion.

This really doesn't help my question of  what should I do? What is the point? Someone please tell me.

WARNING: this paint will cause domestic grief.

Accidents always happen, especially when there are tools around, furniture moved to other rooms, and paint pots to fall over. Add 2 kids and a clumsy husband into the equation and a recipe for disaster is imminent. Although it's not just the physical pains that can be incurred whilst a room is having a transformation.

5 days to take off from work by the end of the month so he decides he is going to decorate a bedroom. My heart sinks. Yet excitement sets in too. Not a good combination. I don't know what mood I'm in from one moment to the next. I can picture the grumpy act from him for a week, the up til all hours trying to "get the extra coat of paint on". The demands for a cup of tea every hour.

I have given up offering to help. "I don't paint the right way"; "my eyesight means I don't do a good job"; "you can't reach it all"... Hence I stay out of the way and very quiet.

This time I have father-in-law in tow for a few days. By the time he had been there an hour on day one he had already thrown out things I had promised to other people, tried to convince us that wallpaper is old hat and our son won't mind if we don't use the paper he had chosen for one wall and just paint it the same as the rest.
I'm told off because our son has left half a dozen posters on the wall when he went to school and they are too busy to remove them.
I go shopping. When I get back, 3 hours later, they are still at the dump and B & Q. Eventually they return saying they couldn't get the correct colour paint that had been chosen so they got the nearest to it. And my eyesight is bad. Instead of a grey/blue it was a powder blue that you would put in a nursery. He's 10. So off I trot to the nearest B&Q and pick up 2 tins of the exact paint wanted. How is this so difficult?

My friend knows now that she needs to have a clear phone ready for the frantic calls from me after each argument about the decorating. Relate must do a roaring trade while couples are decorating. Paint tins should have NHS health warnings on them. Not just the toxic fumes that linger for days after painting, but for the domestic grief caused by a drip of paint in the wrong place, the stress caused by hubby moaning about his eczema, how much money it is costing, he's tired, then dinner is at the wrong time, the kids are in the way... need I go on.

3 days to go and lets see what counselling, NHS, and CPS services are required by the time its done. Probably safest to go out and then I won't be in need of any of these.

Am I Old?

So how do you know if you are old or not?

Is it when you have a season ticket to the doctors as different bits go wrong or fall off each week?

Is it when a late night is 11pm and you pay the price for the next few days even though you didn't drink?

Is it when your jeans are no longer the comfiest items of clothing in your wardrobe?

Is it when you suddenly realise all the clothes you have bought in the last few months were from Marks and Spencers and not other younger high street brands?

Is it when you become horrified that the trousers you bought from M & S have elasticated waists?

Or is it when you realise you have tried to make a cup of tea in a glass sugar pot and the hot water has broken it?

Or what about when the bread won't fit in the fridge and milk doesn't belong in the oven?

Does it take just one of these to make you old? What if you can relate to 5 or more? What does that make me? Will organising a birthday party with some retro twists really make me feel young and back in the 80's again? Unlikely.

Please no. I'm not ready for knitting, tartan slippers, hot water bottles and horlicks.

Not yet anyway.

On being ripped off...

How can they be allowed to do this? I thought it was extortion to increase our energy payments to £100 per month. Now they have doubled them - £200 per month. Where do we find this extra money? We had no notification of this happening. No slight increase. Just wham! An extra £1200 a year please.

Shopping has increased. About 2 years ago, packs of ham were about £1.70 in Tesco's. Now they are £2. How? No one is getting a pay rise, unless they are a greedy fat cat *anker. How do they deserve their bonuses? What happens to those lower down the food chain? Teachers, nurses, dustmen? They are the ones that keep the world running on a day to day basis. They make peoples lives, save peoples lives and maintain peoples lives.

Gradually all the average people are being stretched further and further. More and more will soon lose a roof over their head. What will there be for the future generations? No jobs, more dereliction, more crime, more poverty.

Where are we heading? I don't know. I thought we were OK, but after this increase and no pay rise for hubby for the last 3 years who knows? Getting a paid job is looking closer than ever. Am I in a condition to get paid work? I don't know that either. Can I get a job that has the right hours? Unlikely. Can we afford to pay childcare? That I do know and the answer is no. Why should I pay someone full time childcare so I can work full time for the remainder of my salary, maybe £50?

Why is the world so unfair?

Anyone know of a job from 9:30 to 2:30 Mon -Fri term time only?????
Chance would be a fine thing.

Life comes from a seed

The seeds are sown

Deep in the earth

Allowed to rest and grow

Warmth and water

Love and care

See seeds grow into flowers

They grow through spring and into summer

When they bloom

and show their colour

A petal falls

In autumn time

Start of a midlife crisis?

As the flower wilts

and loses leaves

It heads back in the ground

To help the growth

of next years seeds

With its goodness and resolve.

As we enter

Our autumn years

We can sense what is to come.

As we were born

From just one seed

We return into the ground.

The countdown has begun

So we have managed to reach day 5 out of 47 and we are all still alive. I have reached a critical point though. I don't like being a referee. Thank heavens for the sun and the garden. At least there can be more distance between the boys.I had started to think that the rain would never leave and I would have to deal with them all summer fighting over the TV.

It is in excess of 80 degrees. I have one outside in the paddling pool and one in the dining room playing CBBC website. They are both bored. Neither will do what the other one wants. When one chooses a TV programme, the other gets upset. Depending on which way round this is, the older one will moan, whine and maybe even cry about it until I tell him to watch in the other room or play something else. If the younger one is losing out, then he will pinch, kick, punch and grab the older one until I step in and physically separate them.

We have had a couple of so called quiet days this week. Partly to relax after finishing school and also to build myself up for taking them out - alone. This quiet week will consist of a visit to the library, visiting Great Grandad, cinema, Pizza Hut, playing in the garden, 2 days of cricket and a sleepover at a friends house. I am finally sitting down for an afternoon -

if only this involved no interruptions. One will want a drink, so I ask the other if he would too. No is the response. Not 10 minutes later I get asked by the other one for a drink. Then it's food, clothes, toys, building a bug hotel, finding a Lego piece...

This morning I went back to school to collect the things left behind by older son on the last day of term. Neither wanted to go, but it was their fault.

The happy pills must be doing some good, because I don't think I would have reached this far into the holiday without them. 42 days to go and what joy will that bring I wonder? And how far will I get before I break?

SLEEPY (already)

On plucking up the guts...

I have never been good with medical things. I was never ill as a child and so never went to the doctors. My lasting memory of the doctors as a child is a smelly, old man sitting in a swivel leather chair in a cloud of cigarette smoke. Not the image you would expect to see today.
I stopped going to the dentist for 9 years when I was about 18. It took this long for me to get unbearable toothache. I had one filling and one removed. I thought that was a good trade off for 9 years without the biannual stress. However that's probably not what the dentist thought. Valium was prescribed and nurses were there to hold me down for the injections. I felt physically sick from the trauma of this and have been regularly ever since. However, I still have borderline hysteria before sitting in the chair - the sweats, shakes and tears.

When I was expecting my midwife refused to take my blood. It took my husband to have a day off work and take me to the hospital maternity department. There would be a nurse, midwife and blood specialist there as well as him to hold me down. This was not looking good for a birth plan. Up to 34 weeks everything looked fine. Then my midwife tells me the baby is now breach and that they want to try to turn him for a natural birth. The consultant and 10 onlooking students could not get him to turn so they booked me for a c-section. This was not good. More planned medical things were going to happen. I was shaking and sweating so much when they tried to do the epidural that it took at least 7 attempts to get the needle in.
After they had extended the cut to get my 9lb 5oz baby boys head out they put an extra drip in my ankle while I couldn't feel anything.
My second child was a natural birth and again my midwife skipped some blood tests to reduce the trauma for me and baby.

All of these were medical issues I couldn't escape from. However last week I finally plucked up the courage to contact the doctor about how I feel. I sent a letter in with a friend as I breakdown whenever I try to talk to a doctor. They made the appointment and I was pleasantly surprised. The doctor was fabulous. She was calm and reassuring, understanding and helpful. Two years ago when I went with similar things I was told that it would just go away. Now someone has finally taken me seriously and told me I'm stressed and depressed. It feels such a relief to know there is someone who wants to help. I've never felt like this about the medical profession before. I fear there is worse to come in blood tests and counselling, but the relief is immense.

DOPEY