I mean seriously where do you start? There is so much stuff and it's all just mashing about in my head. Birthday cake catastrophes, accidently writing to people under the name of Bucky, wardrobe disasters x 2, a trip to Birmingham etc etc etc. It's all in there fighting to come out.
Not to mention this weekend is the anniversary of the weekend last year where my marriage exploded. I was of course, in the style of all great Soap Operas, at my mother in laws house (also knows as the Tropical Biome - long time fans may recall it as the one with those really special ornaments. Like the Banjo Playing Bunny and the Satanic Shepard Boy).
About this time on the Sunday I was shaking like a leaf, throwing up down a toilet, packing my bags and children into a hire car (my car had of course been hit by a 4x4 that week and was broken) and heading off into the wilderness... single. I seem to recall the journey took 7.5 hours but this included 4 stops:
1. Grantham train station - I think I took the children there to make them happy and once again try and cover up the fact I was loopy. Something like that. I remember we couldn't get on the platform without a ticket so I stood at the barriers looking wild and desperate and shouting something like 'here comes a GNER!' with false mania - even though GNERs no longer exist (can you tell just how much You Tube footage of the railway era I have sat through?). It felt somehow suitable dramatic.
2. Being sick in a lay-by off a dual carriageway somewhere near Melton Mowbray. This felt rather less dramatic. More desperate. And then I needed a wee. The children peered out of the window in bemused horror.
3. A service station where I bought (and I still don't know why) a loaf of seeded bread for the children. I think I deemed actual pre-prepared food as too complicated and too expensive. I threw it in the back - the whole sliced loaf - as if they were pigeons or ducks on a pond - and left them to it. When I 'came to' about a week later I realised the back of my brand new coupe hire car was entirely coated with stale bread crumbs. You could have deep fried the upholstery and served it a turkey escalopes. When I handed it back to the hire firm they asked if I'd had rats in the vehicle......
4. An empty Asda car park in Burnham on Sea where I ended up because the motorway was jammed and I got lost and confused. I think drove around in circles for a while whilst simultaneous texting my friends, playing the Prodigy at full volume and shouting at the children. I think I then stopped the car and cried. Large numbers of local skater boys who were using the car park for stunts stared on somewhat bewildered.
It would have made great documentary footage. In fact maybe I should just sellotape a camera to my forehead and stream my life life in the web? That might solve a few of my problems.
So anyway after that everyone said things could only get better. They lied.
But I'm still here and I'm Ok and so are my children and that's the main thing.
The children are sat here now. The eldest one (who appears to have messed up my lap top with his Trainz Railway Simulator CD-ROM which a very kind blog follower actually sent him! How's that for kind!) is watching a DVD entitled 'Dave's Railway Films - Freight Trains Around Crewe'. This is a somewhat amateur yet entirely genuine production. It makes the previous favourite 'Florida Freight Trains' look like an Oscar winner, yet I must confess I prefer it to 'A Lineside Look at Model Railways' which features an enthusiast crafting the spokes for a miniature bicycle with...... HIS OWN HAIR. We also have a new, yet to be watched, DVD called 'A Busy Day at Watford Junction, 2011'. This sounds like it could potentially be a seedy 1970's documentary about a Watford massage parlour but no.... It is an hour of footage of trains arriving and leaving....you've guessed it...... Watford Junction.
The younger child is basically that Crazy Frog ('Very Annoying Thing') that was around a few years ago with that horrendous, repetitive, loud loud noise coming out of his mouth.
This child will ensure that, even if I had the time and lack of chaos to enable it, no man will EVER immerse himself in my life again. I mean I have a lot to offer but not enough to compensate for being dragged from bed at 6am on a Sunday morning by a small child bellowing 'Hello BIG FAT BOBBY HEAD' out the bedroom window (hopefully at our cat - not at, god forbid, a man with a big fat head) followed by the lovely song 'ogi ogi ogi OG OG OG' followed by the 'stomp stomp STOMP' dinosaur song with actions (i.e. stamping so hard the floorboards reverberate through the entire terrace). This is of course all punctuated by me shouting 'stop it! STOP IT, STOP IT NOOOOOWWWWW!!'. I look at internet dating profiles (purely for comedy reasons) and see 'successful 30/40 somethings' talk about how they are SO successful that they would now like to meet a woman for travelling, romantic walks on the beach, meals out and maybe one day a family. None of them say they want to meet a women so they can get out of bed at 6am every single day, be deafened by a hideous noise being emitted by a small person wearing no clothes but possibly clutching a flea ridden cat, peel congealed banana and melted chocolate of their smart phone and have to wait at least a decade for a romantic walk.
Now if I could just find a partially deaf railway enthusiast I 'might' be on to a winner but maybe we best not go there.
I love him more than life itself but my god he is LOUD. As his brother said to him earlier 'could you just try and be a bit less irritating? Please?'.
His answer was..... NO I CAN'T STOP THIS.
But never mind - their dad is taking them away for the first part of half term - back to the Tropical Biome/House of the Banjo Bunny.
What am I going to so with all this SILENCE!?!