Messy and Complicated

Do I dare write about the EU referendum?  Do I dare not write about the EU referendum?

The world is messy and complicated. People are messy and complicated.

What I would like is a one world government that guaranteed freedom and safety for everyone, equality for everyone, education for everyone, medical and healthcare for everyone, clean water and sewerage systems for everyone, clean and healthy environment and a decent wage and safe working environment for everyone.  Wouldn’t that be nice?

But if I imposed that on the world it would be near communism.  And as we have seen communism doesn’t work, because the world and people are messy and complicated.

If I imposed that on the world, some people might disagree with the things I want and imposing it on them would take away their freedom – see even more messy and complicated.

And don’t forget the cultural differences – the things I want, mightn’t suit certain cultures.  Yes, messy and complicated.

Does democracy work?  Well not all the time – see notes above about people being messy and complicated.  But it is the most enduring of systems we have.  Are some people liars, misinformed and biased – yes, they are particularly messy and complicated.

So now we have, what we have and it’s all a bit of a mess.  The saddest thing is the anger, lots and lots of anger and nastiness.  Now I wouldn’t take away people’s right to be angry, but I must admit I have stopped reading it all.  I am heartbroken about the violence and if I see any of it, I shall be calling the Police immediately.

So what am I doing.  I am hoping that an adultier adult is going to step up to the plate.  I am hoping common sense prevails and I am teaching my children to be broadminded, informed and kind, because I don’t want them to ever have to deal with this in their lifetime.

And I am being kind and supportive to all the people I can.  We need some kindness, lots of kindness – because life is messy and complicated and we need each other to survive it.

The Rug Dilemma

I was vacuuming my rug in the lounge.  I hate this rug.  It has burn holes from the fire and it is covered with paint, glue, glitter and goodness knows what else.  It makes my skin crawl, no matter how well I clean it.

We have a party coming up and I’m a bit embarrassed by this rug.  So I decided to see if I could get a new one.  One thing I do to cope with living in a building site is to keep everything as clean and tidy as I can and I just pretend that there aren’t holes in the ceilings and walls.  An easy way to do this is to have the curtains, cushions, rugs etc. clean, fresh and bright.

I bought 2 rugs off the internet (intending to send one back) – One big and on medium.  Lovely soft, fluffy, luxurious rugs, that just happened to be in the sale.

I put them on the floor, now the big one was an immediate fail – too big.  And the medium one just didn’t look right.  I went into a panicked moment of indecision, so I asked my friends on Facebook what they thought.

Bless their cotton socks – love them. Lots of comments and ideas.  One notable one, was I needed to get rid of the crappy coffee table.

And I agree with them, it is a crappy coffee table.  In fact it’s not even a coffee table, it’s an old breakfast dining table that someone gave us years ago, that we chopped the legs off and painted.

Now in my dreams, I want my lounge to be like this – slightly retro with light delicate furniture, but alas that’s not going to happen anytime soon, because I have children.

The kids use that crappy coffee table to paint, glue and glitter.  Baby girl stands on it, to look in the mirror and pose.  The dog sits on it to see out the window, when he is waiting for the kids to come home.  Hubby puts his feet on it, at the end of the day.

So I am afraid that crappy coffee table has to stay, at least for a while.  And therefore there is no point in getting a new rug – so I sent them both back.

Instead I am going to take the old rug outside and scrub the bejesus out of it and put off my dreams of soft luxury, until the children have stopped making a mess and the building work is further along.  So that will be in about 20 years then – <Insert hysterical, maniacal laughter>

I Hate Food

Yes, I do – I can’t stand the stuff.  Not in a problem way, don’t worry about me fading away to nothing, it’s just I can’t really be bothered with it all.

It really doesn’t matter what food I eat; I am not fussed.  I know I have to eat, and after having kids, I am better at ensuring I eat correctly, at the right times.

Don’t get me wrong I do enjoy nice food, especially at a restaurant with lovely friends.  But that is more about the lovely friends and the fact that I didn’t have to cook.

If you told me I couldn’t sew, garden or read anymore, then I would stab you with a fork. But if you told me that I could only have a small pill 3 times a day instead of food and it would provide me with all my nutritional needs, then I would be quite happy.

In fact, if someone invents that option I would be delighted to give that to my family 3 times a day and I wouldn’t feel any guilt about depriving them.

Why, you may ask?  Well, when it comes to food the three other members of my house are the most ungrateful bunch of ***** ever!!

The first thing they ask in the morning?  “What’s for dinner, Mum?”  And that’s when the moaning and whining starts.  I have one lovely friend who refuses to answer this question to her 4 kids, as she knows at least one of them will complain!

Planning a weekly menu on a budget, shopping for all the food required for the week’s menu, preparing and cooking the meals and cleaning up after the meals are my most dreaded things.  I would rather clean toilets – seriously!

Especially as all 3 of them moan, most of it ends up in the bin or I am sure in the dog’s belly.

So I had a bit of a flip out the other day and asked why am I the one doing all of this.  I work as much as Hubby and earn as much as Hubby, so why am I the one doing ALL the food – especially when I hate it so much.

So I have asked that Hubby takes on one night a week.  Now you mightn’t think this is much, but the poor man can’t cook – at all.  He can BBQ like a king, but put him in the kitchen and it all goes horribly wrong.

The kids’ faces when they heard this, was priceless!!  Maybe they will appreciate my cooking more.  I told Hubby – he is to plan, shop, cook and clean for one night a week.  I do not want to know about it, discuss it or even think about it.

So far he has done ok.  McDonalds one night, pizza the next and chicken pieces with spinach the following.  The kids loved the first 2 times, but the third, they hit the roof!  Spinach!!!  I just told them to direct their angst to daddy, as it was not my problem.

Oh my, this is going to be fun, why didn’t I do this years ago.  Wait till I demand 2 nights a week – hahahahahahahaha

Running away from my children…

It was a very, very long week, last week.  

Kids were off school on half term holiday, which is tiring enough as it is, but for part of it my complicated boy was in France on a school trip, so I had a lonely, needy little girl.  Luckily a lovely, lovely friend lent me her daughter for one day and took mine for another.  

I was also a bit of a nutter and took on heaps of extra work as lots of my co-workers needed time off for their children. I also needed the money and to be very honest, I had forgotten all I had said yes too – DUH.

Anyway the point of it all, was that by Friday, I was shaking, I was so exhausted and the house was a filthy pigsty.  So I went to bed at 9pm and quietly left a sleeping house the next morning at 8.30am.  I left a note saying please clean the house, do your homework, I will be back LATE!

WOOHOO I ran away….to London for the day to meet some friends.  I love London, it reminds me of why I live here.  I could just sit and people watch all day.  You can dress and be anything in London and no one bats an eye.  It makes me smile.  I only ever walk or catch the bus in London, as you miss soooo much on the Tube.  I always give myself extra time, so I can get the front seat at the top of the lovely red double decker buses, just so I can watch, see and absorb.

I spent the first half of the day with one friend, just having coffee and wandering and a bit of shopping, but mostly talking.  She then took me to a little alleyway just off Oxford Street for lunch – St Christopher’s Place.  Now I used to work in Oxford Street and I had NO IDEA this little place existed.  That is the wonderful thing about London, there is so much history, higgledy piggledy little streets, and more history just everywhere.  The entrance is tiny and even my knowledgeable English friend had to hunt for it and it was like a separate little village with hanging plants, wooden bench seats, quaint (expensive shops) and little restaurants and coffee shops.  GORGEOUS!  We just had to have a glass of prosecco to celebrate.

Next I met another friend for a night of movies and sushi.  Even the cinema oozed history – it was an old Theatre that has been converted to a cinema, all confusing corridors and ornate staircases.  Fab.

And after all that I felt better.  Less exhausted, less stained crumpled working mummy, even a little bit Londonfied and cosmopolitan. I had talked and talked and chatted and dumped all my worries and emotions on my lovely friends.

I sat on the train going home, peeking into people’s lit houses as I flew past, and I knew that I was all back together again and could cope with the piles of washing, the crunchy floors, the lost homework and the general endless mundanity that is my life.  Bless London and bless my friends.