Wednesday, 27 October 2010


Chillers - asked English mum, what's that then? It involves , I replied , huge footwear, pizza and noise. It is not, and I repeat, a party! so I though I would give you a definition for those with nearly teens and those with teens can just roll their eyes.

  • It is a small gathering, (actually a gathering is a small party, ) so let's call it a small group. In this instance 6 people of both sexes.
  • Pizza is involved but it is compulsory standard fare under teenager rules that is .
  • Drinks must be provided. This is the tricky one. We have coke, fizzy orange and cherry ade. We were asked for alcohol. I am not comfortable with that request, I replied, you are 14 and it is illegal. She-ra quickly retraced her steps and said it didn't matter. But I knew it did matter because it effected the guest list. I'm happy for those who base their acceptance of an invitation solely on the provision of alcohol not to come; 14 is too young in my book. She didn't ask again so I'm guessing she was happy not to be providing it anyway. I have let both my children have alcohol on timely occasions, a glass of fizz at an engagement is far as She-ra has gone into the world of booze. He-man has the odd beer depending on the occasion although outside the house his consumption is far greater but then at 16 so was mine.
  • Fire Fire Fire! a chiller chez nous seems to involve lighting a fire outside in the cold. Irrespective of the time of year. She has lit the fire basket, set the chairs and benches up with rugs and cushions and made a lovely outside room. In the freezing cold but they don't seem to mind the cold do they teenagers, all that loitering on street corners? Besides they seem to keep themselves warm by chopping wood with a very blunt axe.
  • Music- good old i pod. The ipod is on, there is some wild dancing going on.
  • At some point there will be a lot of humongous sized footwear for me to fall over in the house. Although She-ra did point out that her boy mates don't really have big feet like her brother and his mates. Big feet big hands, I muttered to myself thinking that was a life lesson she was also too young to learn just yet.
  • We also made some buns. She-ra is an accomplished baker, and we ( by that I mean I ) got a bit carried away this afternoon making ghoulish buns. Not very cool but then at 14 I'd like to think you are never to old for a silly bun.

I would like to point out that the chillers quite quickly becomes chillers with alcohol and from that it accelerates to a gathering with lots of alcohol and a bit of puking and from there to full blown party with a staggering amount of alcohol, puking, police and ambulances. Be afraid very afraid.

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

it doesn't take much to become addicted

56 Sage Street

free game

Sponsored Post


This is my first ever sponsored post. I am very excited. In fact I got three offers in the same day but this was the one I decided to go with. I don't do computer games, virtual reality and the such but within minutes I was hooked. All I could see was my own two kids as the main character. The trials and tribulations of getting a job, how difficult it is to weigh up the good guys from the not so good guys and the down right bad guys. How do you mange your money in this day age? Someone please give my kids a lesson it's invaluable. The kind people of Barclays have put this together and whilst I am always the sceptic I think I might continue with this afterwards just to see where I end up.

Once you have chosen your character you are dropped quite literally into a rainy night down on your luck  and then what follows is a number of scenarios. Do you wash up pots in the hope that you might get a better job of waiting tables. Do you rush to the first laundrette to wash you clothes not realising a nearby hotel would have done as part of their service charge. Do you do any volunteer work even though it will make you tired for your night shift? I would probably be a fish gutter and walking the streets or maybe just maybe be on my uppers. Actually who am I kidding - I would be working my ass off to get out of such a life and hopefully be soon on my way to the road called success. See, I am addicted already! I will most definitely show it my two kids. It might just help them be a bit more street savvy although he-man thinks he knows it all, been there done that and tried to get mum to buy the T shirt.


have a gander at 56sagestreet - it's useful tool to arm your teenagers with as they head out into the real world and if nothing else they could become aspiring fish gutterers

Share hosted by Wikio

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

crumbs in bed

I am never ill, never ever. I leave that to my sister who garners all the weird stuff from Bells Palsy during pregnancy to Slapped Cheek. I however am never ill. In the last month I have been ill not once but twice. In fact I am being ill right now here in bed. Never a good patient this time I took some well intended advice as I departed work with a drip white face, my ring of fire and an afternoon date with white porcelain. So I went to bed, after having a chat with He-man who was about to go to school.( A chat - good medicine for me that is.) There I stayed, fast asleep, until he careered into my room some four hours later for another chat. Then She-ra arrived home delighted to see my car at home and idles in for a chat."I'm going for a poo and then I'll come sit with you" she announces. OK, too much information but well intended. although I did have to clench buttocks and make concerted effort not to gip when she throws herself back on my bed, bouncing me all over the place and still in her stinky football gear.
Sister of weird illnesses stated she and hers were also ill last week with similar symptoms and that she felt she had something stuck in her stomach all week but she blames mine of kissing boys as hot date dragged his poorly ass over to mine last week and took himself off to my lovely clean sheets to sweat it off. Hm lovely.

Now I have got out of the suit I have collapsed back into bed in, have my pj,s n hoodie on, laptop at the ready, daughter baking for England, son walking dog, both being attentive and having a nice cup of lemon tea.I'm thinking I should be a better patient in future and give into it and not soldier on. I never get any brownie points for it. But right now what I'd really like is something scrumptious to eat but don't think my stomach could, well, stomach it. But can't stop thinking about marmite on toast, coq au vin, chicken noodle soup, thai curry, beans on toast, beef casserole....

Monday, 18 October 2010

Been doing a bit of this...

Been busy of late but there' s been a bit of this going on round are way.....
She-ra to me on my day off
"you are going walking? On your day off? You are officially weird!"

" Why do you keep buying Apple juice? No one drinks it! It's just There! Everywhere you turn, kinda menacing..." Clearly there will be a lot of people dressed as scary apple juice cartons this Halloween. In fact I have started leaving apples in his bed and apple juice cartons outside his bedroom door.

Grandad " Ha! Am smoking lassies turd" In fact it was a F*ckin' huge cigarhe was puffing whilst watching He-man play rugby. He is now an Official Legend with He-man's mates.

Playing Just dance on t'wii for my sister to review was brilliant fun and I worked up a reet sweat. Bring it on 15y old niece I will whoop your ass next time

Bro-in-law to He-man " Hey son, time for marmite n a beer"

I planted a lasagne of bulbs this weekend. Lasagne I ask you just fancy for layering.

Discovered - You can't go to sleep with velcros rollers in your hair

Also discovered that if your beloved pretends to push you off a stepping stone ( in middle of river ) then it is his look out if you then subsequently hit him in the bollocks trying to regain your balance.

It is time to get the thermals out and layer up properly when going to watch He-man play rugby. It was bloody cold yesterday despite the sun being out. I should also note that it is not a good idea to bring 3 unwashed-after-playing-rugby-teenage boys back in your car. Pegs please! Some one bring me some pegs from my nose like now!

Have clipped a few minutes off my incredibly slow running speed despite having been out of action.

I need to clip some time off my incredibly fast driving. Why is it when I see a motorway that I put my foot down and drive like I'm on an Autobahn in my clapped out French car. What speed limit? I should take note from Auntie Gwen.

Started a job I wish I had never started. Sanding the wooden work surfaces. What was I thinking?! Here's me wanting a nice relaxing week off work and Day 1 and 3 has seen me sanding for all I am worth. I think I have vibrating finger from using the recently purchased mouse sander too much. Can I put in a compensation claim? And on that note I shall go back to living my life of mundane.

Monday, 11 October 2010

Speedos, attitude, and mumping

I read lots of blogs about parents with teenagers. I love the camaraderie, the shared angst, the low slung underpant tale and the what time did you call this story. I always seem to find though that these are parents of children who know when to buckle down, who know when the boundary has been pushed too far and that they are now prepared to put some effort in. This is where our similarities end. And my anguish begins.

My son, who I love so much, can charm the birds out of the trees is Difficult with a capital D. If he has a last warning he has to go for it. If he has to apply himself he just doesn't bother. The laziness is in the extreme just like the partying. Always the last to leave, the latest to return home. Now we have got into 6th form, just, he is already kicking back. he clearly doesn't want to be there. This infuriates me. I knew this would happen yet he refused all my offers of help - let's look at alternatives etc. Now he's there he hates it despite all his earlier claims of wanting to settle down and prove all and sundry that he is capable. That was short lived. The teachers have gone from "wow he's great " to "oops he's slipping into bad habits again. "Although a recent meeting with them was really positive and they do seem genuinely want to help him. Even the Lesbian PE teacher with size 14 feet as he-man puts it wants to help him, much to my surprise.Course it doesn't help that a recent letter from Mr X caused He-man to go off the deep end just when he needs stability in his life.

I despair. At what point is he going to wake up and smell the coffee. We dropped off a CV tonight at a big chain DIY store. Just a part time job filling shelves. Over 500 applicants for 5 posts. He did pass comment but as if the fierce competition was nothing to do with him.

I worry about him . I worry about what will happen to him. I worry how he will feel if he doesn't realise his full potential and is stuck in crap jobs. Intellectually he could run rings round you and that would kill him in a crap job. He toys with you like a cat with a spider and has had great fun goading me tonight watching me laugh uncontrollably as his twaddle.

The mumping I can cope with. The biting my head off by asking the wrong question at the wrong time too. As long as I know he is working and studying as the pay off. The feeling is that raising teenagers is like having a jigsaw without the picture and all the pieces are scattered everywhere - just where do you begin to fit it all together?

The offers to help him with his career to make an informed choice falls on deaf ears. A suggestion to look at apprenticeships meets with a sneer. Yet the previous week he was going to be an engineer cum plasterer. Now he is talking about becoming a lifeguard and leaving to live in the south of France in pair of red Speedos. I know most 16 year old don't know what they want to do but at least they apply themselves in the meantime.

So what do I do? There isn't much left in reserves to help him through. I am nearing the end of my tether as my son looks like he is about to go off into the sunset in a pair of speedos and a massive attitude and 0 qualifications.

And then it dribbled down my leg...

I run. I run to combat stress of daily life. I run to combat the cakes I like to eat and the wine I like to drink. I run to get rid of excess energy when I have mother-to-teenager combat. I run very fast then. I also run very fast when we have contact from the Dark Side, (Mr ex ) of which we had an occurence last week.

On Friday as I was about to dash out my daughter pointed out my nipples. I was wearing a new-don't-knock-me-over-in-the-dark-bright-pink top. Apparently I was sporting a Rachel look as in her off Friends. " Rub 'em mum then they'll go down " She advised. What crap advice that was, the more I rubbed the bigger they got. What was I to do? Feck it, I went anyway as am used to car toots etc as I run. I swear if I had three heads and a hunchback I'd still get them.

That, I thought, was the end of that. Then half way round I got chronic stomach pains. The sort you get after eating a dodgy curry. Only I hadn't had the pleasure. Never mind, thought I, soldier on. The cramps were getting worse. I can't be running that fast I thought. I started to think of the horror stories people had told me of marathon runners getting caught short and having to shit themselves or have a dump at the side of the road. Marathon runners! I'm doing a quick 6K before tea. By now I was in absolutely agony but still running with buttocks clenched extremely tightly. I also cursed my decision to abandon the full length Lycra jobbies ( geddit ) for the short cropped pants. If I do shit myself, I'm thinking, it is going to dribble down my leg for the whole world to see on their way home on a Friday night. This could be my ultimate embarrassing moment. By now I was in a bit of state, the dog was looking at me bizarrely and eventually I had to let rip. There was a clap of thunder as I did the largest fart ever and then continued to run out of sheer embarrassment. Thinking the fart might have alleviated the situation I felt a bit happier but now the flood gates were open and I thunder clapped my way along until I could run no more. I dropped to a stagger clutching my stomach thinking any minute now any moment I am going to FOLLOW THROUGH!

Needless to say my trainers are still white and never have I rushed to the bathroom so quickly. The sharing person that I am I told She-ra who felt it was too much information but very funny and even funnier that I shared it with Hot Date. "Mum, there are just some things you shouldn't do..."