Welcome to the fun

Welcome to the fun
Christmas Joy

Sunday, 31 July 2011

Day 39 - Supernan

Since 7 this morning Summer has been begging me to take her swimming or to grandads farm. One involves £6.50 a long intimate shave of the legs and an embarassing squeeze into a swimsuit. The other comes in at £38.80 for a return train ticket, a combined 4hrs on a train and then 2 days knee deep in pigshit.
It takes a lot to get me into a swimsuit so I am here in pigshit having just collected 2 ducks from another farm that have just met Summer and shat in fear all over me. Summer understandably loves it here. I love it for 2 reasons, 1 she has acres of land to get lost in and 2, here resides nanny 'the child whisperer'. My dads girlfriend has a hypnotic power over Summer, she is everything I cannot muster the energy to be, strict and engaging. When we arrived nanny was out, so Summer could relax and be her typical self. Shouting at the pigs and trying to castrate the sheep. Then Summer smelled the air as nanny pulled into the driveway and instantly smartened up her act. When nanny is around she is angelic, she is all please and thank you's ,helpfull and a joy. The moment she's gone Summer flips her the finger and goes into hyper destruct mode. She has no boundries around my dad, she punches him, stamps on his feet and does whatever she pleases round the farm. But like jeykal and hyde as soon as nanny appears...butter wouldnt melt.
I often sit in ore and wonder what nannies magical power is. What spell is it that she casts that causes Summer to both fear and respect her.
Her magic lasts for about 3 days afterwards , so when Summer steps out of line, all I have to do is threaten to phone nanny.
I packed an extra weeks worth of clothes for Summer in case my dad enjoyed his time with Summer so much that they decided to keep her on a few more days. No such luck. 2 hrs after we arrived Dad was on the computer seeing what time the return train was coming.

Friday, 29 July 2011

Day 38 - The Office

Its 8 am, I'm getting ready for work, Summer is asleep. I trot downstairs ready to sneak out the door when I notice that Part time dad isnt on the couch. He isnt in my bed, he isnt in the loo. Hmmmmm
Call Part time dad who is probably at the shops quickly getting some milk. He better hurry up or I will miss my train, and we cant leave Summer in bed alone. He answers his phone: "where are you?"
"Bladclart,bumba,usain bolt,jerk chicken told you I wasnt able to have Summer today rastafari,rice n peas"
Well I did not know that
What about work, my big meeting today.! I cant stay home with her, I cant get her to someone else in time or I miss the meeting.
Phone a friend (Lauren from work)
"Bring her in" she laughs hystericaly "yeah it will be fine" she laughs again, Lauren remembers the last time Summer came into the office.
Call the boss, I have never heard him so scared. "Children in the office prevents revenue" he too remembers when Summer came into the office.
So its decided then, she's coming into work. Lord help us, each and everyone of us.
The train ride in is spent laying down rules. Be good, dont speak, dont grab boobies, dont look at the men's magazine, do tell me if you need the toilet. She nods, but I know she isnt listening, she is in London now! She has hit the big time. There are 200 staff members on the second floor waiting for her arrival. They're locking away valubles, hiding laptops and permenant markers, grown men cry openly at their desks. At first thankfully its uneventful, she is sat behind me on a bank of desks of new recruits who have never met her before. We keep her occupied with pritt stick, paper scissors and a pile of old magazines, then some genius gives her a tub of glitter. The brand directors desk she is sitting on looks like fairyies have had a rave up, there is glitter everywhere including his suit jacket, soon after, members of staff are walking round blissfully unaware that they have glitter in there hair,keyboards and orrifices.
Next is the big meeting, i cant take her so she is left in the hands of two collegues who are given strict instructions, only feed her fruit,no sweets, check for toilet breaks and if she runs out of glitter let her play star dolls on the computer. At some point during my meeting, there was trouble back at the ranch.
I came back to find her face down in a tub of haribo as my collegues told me they couldnt get stardolls to work. Summer on sweets before midday is like feeding a gremlin after dark.
Heres the result.
1- lunch with lauren from work resulted in Summer dancing erotically whilst suggestively licking a lettuce leaf
2- shouting mummy on repeat whilst I was trying to negotiate a deal.
3- watching rastamouse and screaming in patois
4-telling one director that another director wants to fight him
5- punching David hard in the nuts for kissing me on the cheek
6- telling my boss how Part Time dad fights her and is always at the pub
7-slapping people on the back of the head whilst they are on the phone
8- going for ciggerette breaks with the girls
9- demanding the man who"s last day it is contribute to his own collection
10- stealing from the collection

Iam tired, very tired, i would like to thank Hannah, Stef and Lauren for watching her and keeping her away from matches. I find out Monday if I still have a job!

Monday, 25 July 2011

Day 37 - I am Mum

"Mum, mum,mummy,mum,mum,ma ma"
Huh? Oh yeah she means me.
I had one of those moments today when I realised 'I am a mum'. I looked at this girl calling me mum (on repeat)but I still feel like I'm 18 so she can't be referring to me. Wow where did this come from? Did I actually use to have sex with PT dad?
I first felt like this after I gave birth. After the docs knocked me out for an emergency C-section (Summer was trouble before she took her first breath) the first thing I asked for when I came round was "more drugs" then "big Mac and fries" then my mum suggested I might like to see my baby first.
Huh baby? Wooooahhhhh yh sure Ok. They plopped her on me and I looked at her hairy face and squashed nose. What do I do? What am I supposed to feel? Everyone had a tear in there eye and was cooing at us, so I mimiced their emotions.
I'm ashamed to say I just didnt feel much, I was a fraud, and Summer could see right through me. Soon everyone left (Part time dad was still yet to arrive!) And I was alone, with this baby no instruction book. She looked at me, I looked at her. I even checked her wrist band to see if she was really mine.
She slept I slept, she cried, I cried until a cleaning lady found us screaming at eachother at 6 in the morning. This big nigerian lady picked Summer up and gave me a tissue.
"You fed her yet lady?" She said...well no I hadnt, she was born after dinner time and It wasnt quite breakfast....
"Tsk your mummy is stupid...Suma" and with that Big Momma grabbed my boob, "Feed her!" She snapped. This wasnt how I pictured my first girl on girl action. my boob in a 50 yr old nigerian womans hand and Summer squirming to get away from both of us. She wouldnt latch on, and besides I had no milk. Epic Mummy fail.
I cried again, Summer cried.
"You cant cry mummy, fix up yourself, you are her mother find a way to feed your child, she cant live without you mummy, tsk smarten up yourself"
She gave Summer a wink and walked out. With just the 2 of us I persisted with the breastfeeding to no avail. Hour apon hour was spent willing milk to come. Nothing. So I sobbed myself to sleep. When I woke up I heard the sound of Summer gurgling and the cleaner now out of her work clothes was bottle feeding Summer. "Hello mummy, this is how you feed your baby until your tities start working...you see your baby is happy, sometimes mummies take short cuts... And you will need to cos this baby Summa is trouble, I'm going now, I need to feed my own babies its over to you mummy"
My milk never came, the feelings did a little later, but sometimes I feel like I have been baby sitting for a really long time. And that someone mature enough might come and claim her. ( I reckon I am due over £100k in fees) Until then, I am happy enough to play mummy, even if sometimes I need reminding to fix up. Now Summer does that instead of the hospital cleaning lady.

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Day 36 - For Amy

This morning I woke up to a downbeat Summer, she found out that one of musical idols Amy Winehouse had passed away. Summer had changed into her favourite grubby wife beater vest, hot pants and pumps and mournfully tied a scarf into her her, she brought me a black felt tip and eyeliner and asked that for one last time I draw on her tattoos and line her eyes just like Amy.
The music of Amy Winehouse was the soundtrack of Summers youth, As my favorite artist, Summers bed time lullabies where sung from Back to Black. We spent many a lazy Sunday singing Valerie into hairbrushes and wiggling around the room to Rehab, Summer's part was "no no no" and "go go go" Of course Summer has been shielded to the darker side of Amy. But I know that over the next few months with Amy's life splattered all over the media and Summers obession will grow.
We have been here before after Michael Jacksons passing, Summer played his music on repeat and learnt every word to his extensive song list and even named her cat Billy Jean. She wore a glove on her right hand for a month and there was an incident at nursery over a sequined jacket.
Summer is now tattoed up running up and down the street with the boy next door (her Blake) some might say that Amy would be the worst role model for a 5 yr old, but Summer loved her for her music and unique style. It beats listening to Justin Beiber. Thank you Amy for some great memories with my daughter and if she grows up to have even a finger full of your talent, then we are very blessed indeed.

Rest In Peace x

Friday, 22 July 2011

Day 35 - Sleep

17 minutes, I worked it out,  or 27 minutes if I didnt straighten my hair. I have waited 312 days for this.
My lay in.
 With Summer on school holidays I have up to 27 mins spare while the house is asleep, I too planned to join them in slumber. Not only do I get extra sleep I dont have to have my daily battle with Summer trying to get her up and ready for school. Everyday I have to find some new trick to get her awake and out of bed. "Its snowing, its a school trip day, I have had a baby, father christmas is not real" you know that sort of thing. Yes the next 6 weeks morning time will be bliss.
So it is with great frustration that my first 2 mornings have been ruined by Summer waking ME up!, Summer telling ME shocking things to get me out of bed "mum I'm going outside to play with the car- these are the keys yeah?"
She hasnt done this in my 27 minute lay in, she hasnt roused me at normal wake up time, nooooo not Summer, not cheeky, funny silly Summer. She has been up and sparky a full hour before the alarm goes off. Fully dressed bright as a button, picking me out work clothes that are entirely inappropriate but that also dont fit.
Why?, why oh why is she doing this, for 312 days we have fought every morning to get her out of bed, and now when I dont need to worry about it, she bloody wakes me up. Stripping me of the smallest pleasure. The first morning I assumed it was just Summer holiday excitment, but today just took the piss. I was so tired I felt like returning her to Lewisham hospital and telling them there had been a horrible mistake.

However its seems PT dad is doing a lot better with her than me:
Day 1 of the school holidays and part-time dad has excelled himself.
Summer greeted me at the station with a huge smile and a hula hoop. Her hair had been washed,combed and blow dried something I have not been able to negotiate for the past 2 weeks. She had eaten, she was clean, and the house was imaculate. I felt like I was in the twighlight zone.

Thursday, 21 July 2011

Day 35 - School's out for Summer

So our first school year is done, Summer is invited back next year. This is a success. Lets have a look at what this year made so special.

1- The boy who liked to touch Summers Knickers
2- sending Summer to school without knickers on (no related to no.1 and an accident!!)
3- Summers 17 red slips for injury
4- teachers removing tattoos from her body
5- teachers removing nail varnish from her body
6- the day Summer refused to walk into class and she held me hostage on the bench (20 min siege)
 7-the day she refused to come home and the caretaker had to find her in the grounds.(She went missing for over 40 mins)
8- the 5 meetings with the head and govenors 9-the one letter from social services saying they had no concerns over her 'erotic' dancing
10- her erotic dancing

  As I bode her teacher farewell and thanked her being great with Summer, she replied ''Oh enjoy Jamaica'' - ERRR exsqueeeze me? '' YES Summer has been telling everyone about you spending the holiday in Jamaica'' The lying little shit!
''Yes we are all really excited'' I just lied to the teacher!! I couldn’t do it - I couldn’t leave the teacher with a lasting impression that Summer is a fibber.
I wonder if you are allowed to fake tan your child???

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

Day 34 - Honesty

Summer is one day shy of her first year at school and for the first time she has spoken to me about what goes on in school other than tuna jacket potatoes for lunch ( literaly the only thing she eats there) and general tittle tattle from the playground.
Today when I asked her the obligitory "what happened in school today?" She answered me frankly: "I got in big trouble" ohhhhh shit.
I put on friendly face, make her feel safe to discuss her day good or bad. Then punish her once I have all the facts.
"I cut up Ms Franklins leaving card" ohhhhhh shit.
Smile, keep smiling, not too much cos this is bad, smile with the eyes, smeyes her, keep her talking, dont panic.
"I was cutting love hearts out of it and giving them to my friends"
The leaving card was mistaken as craft card by Summer and was filled with good will messages for the leaving teacher ahead of a tearful speech and a teachers piss up at the end of the day. And now Summer had cut love hearts out of it.
"My teacher was like Summmmeeerrrrr" she says mocking her teachers shocked voice.
"I just put my head down and carried on working" good thats positive. "Then pparently we was meant to be writing not cutting anyway" yeah sure easy mistake to make. The whole class is writing so Summer picks up a pair of scissors. Still smiling with the eyes.
"Anything else happen?" I ask hoping she can redeem herself. Summer thinks. "I got in trouble for showing my arse to year 4" ohhhh for fuck sake. "No mummy! Of couse I had my knickers on!" Yessss progress at last.
Finaly I find another red slip. I double check to see its not the same one from yesterday, no such luck:bump to left eye, other pupil it reads. "Honestly mummy, Ella was up for it, we both got a slip!" She looks pleased. One more day to go.

Monday, 18 July 2011

Day 33 - Summertime and the living is easy

This is the week that most working parents dread. The start of the Summer school holidays. Our options are limited. Either pay an extraordinary amount in childcare or find a free way of doing things. You can guess my choice. This takes a shit load of preparation that would make the SAS mission to assasinate Osama look like a walk in the park, my mission is especialy hard as due to Summer's 'spirited' nature family and friends arent exactly queing up to have her. My first port of call is Dad, who lives both by the sea and on a farm. You would think this choice of location would be because of his love of spending quality time with his grandkids. Not so.
Last time we came to visit, the sight of Summer coming up the pathway with her suitcase actually gave dad heart palpitations. Eveytime I have mentioned the Summer holidays his phone starts breaking up and we loose connection, despite him calling from a landline.
Part -time dads mum, cleverly still works full time but he has a sister who often helps when she can bare it, and that is the exetent of family we have responsible enough or with a strong enough heart to look after Summer. To make matters worse, I doubt there will be a holiday abroad this year either, which is somewhat of a blessing after she drowned twice in the pool last time.
So i am not looking forward to this Summer with Summer, who will be bored and when Summer is bored trouble happens. She will inevitably be looked after by part-time dad, which means a bucket of chicken for lunch and dancing round the living room to x rated hip hop music while he spins her through the air at terrifying speeds.I will get numerous calls asking how to cook foreign food objects and how to put Summer in the recovery position. He will take her to the park and not feel any remorse about loosing a shoe, a scooter or even her.
I will take a week off and do my share, this will involve spending huge amounts of money on trips to the circus, theme parks and seaside where i will try and leave Summer unsucessfuly with my dad. I will also do the obiglitory take your child to the office trip. The women will coo over her and the men will rightly keep there distance. Like last year she will giggle her pants off at copies of the lads mags and girl boobies whilst rob the girls mags of lip gloss and nail varnish.
After summer is my 30th and if I survive' i am going away for a final fling of freedom with my bestest. Something to look forward to.

In Summer news she has had another 'bump to the head' and another red slip to add to her collection.
Also the posh Per Una mums requested that the classes next year be split not by ability or the childrens needs, but by the parents social groups....words cannot express...

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Day 32 - V is for vagina

Today post is sponsored by the word Vagina.
 Its been quite the theme word this weekend. And Summer has acted like a massive one all weekend.
She has been hyper all weekend, talking ...sorry, correction shouting all day .... largely vagina on repeat, breaking and destructing everything in her vaginas path. She smashed her very expensive limited edition Disney snow globe so she could release tinker bell's vagina from her glittered cage, at the same time cracking a floor tile in the bathroom , she coloured in her mirror with felt tip pens since I have thrown out every bottle of nail varnish I owned after yesterday. Then after teaching the boy next door several different words for vagina they played noughts and crosses on the dogs back . They then washed the car with my shower poof (which I use to wash my vagina) and a bottle of expensive conditioner (which I dont use to wash my vagina)
In between all of this she has said the word Vagina 50 times.
Mmmmm work tomorrow !

Saturday, 16 July 2011

Day 31 - Nail Varnish

Nail varnish is probably the thing that will kill me. Summers obsession with it will be the thing that drives me into ano early grave. Last week she painted herself head to toe in baby pink. The week before she painted my dresser in hot pink but today she out did herself.

In a bid to get her into her own room, and the impending house sell. My friend and I spent several days, stripping the old paper off, sanding,painting and wallpapering a lovely feature wall that has gorgeous silk flowers on it. I should have guessed something was up but thought Summer and the boy next door were just watching a DVD nice and quietly. I'm so stupid, so niave, I know better but the draw of watching a programe on dwarves was too much.
When the boy was picked up his dad noticed some nail varnish on his hands, oh bugger she has been demasculating him again I thought. What have you two been up to.
"Summer thought the walls needed some colour" I couldnt get him out of the door and into Summers room quick enough.
I burst through the door and a lump grew in my throat. Every shade of nail varnish that I had was used to paint every single silk flower on her feature wall. They had even used the chair to get the bits they couldnt reach. The magnolia wall was no a wash of , blue, pink,brown,peach,black and gold.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I begun to apply nail varnish to the wall, the more I wiped the more it spread. I caught Summer laughing at me.

A bottle of nail varnish later, her wall still has a light wash of colour across it. Summer has been banished to her room minus all pens,colours and anything that can cause distruction (barr chopping of her arms).

I am having a shot Malibu and a fag.

Day 30 - School Report

Translation of Summer's school report:

Summer has settled in well at school and is usually a happy member of the class.
Read: Summer doesnt miss you at school and often has a strop on.

She has a few close friends but there are somtimes tensions between them.
Read: Summer argues with her friends and gets pissed off if they dont do what she says.

She enjoys self initiated activities
Read: summer does what the fuck she wants to do

And likes to use role play and putting on puppet shows.
Read: show me on the puppet where Summer touched you class

Summer requires adult support to complete directed activities
Read: we got to watch her like a hawk

Summer is very strong a recognising shape, space and measures
Read: Summer knows ,solids and ounces (part - time dad skill)

In other news I had a friend round last night and we played the quiet game. Summer laid out the rules : no one talks or they get punched in their big vaginas.

Thursday, 14 July 2011

Day 29 - Per Una Cunts and Paco

There's a certain type of mum I despise.  The ones dressed up to the nines in Monsoon and Per Una or worse in work out gear for the school run. Their tight little backsides rushing there kids into school so that they are on time for circuit training at David Llyod with Paco, who she will screw in the steam room before meeting up with the girls for lunch (which consists of drinking Cava and trying subtly to  play the my husbands richer than yours game) The Per Una set are annoying in different ways. They are like the head girl and prefect set at a Swiss finishing school, they think their shit doesn't stink. They huddle for chats in the playground dressed like 1950's curtains, discussing what PTA event they should put on, and how wonderful daughter Pippa should be on the gifted and talented register but isn't, so will simply have to take the head for dinner to discuss this, Charles is on the board of Govenors you see"! All the while Pippa is licking a tree (probably because my Summer told her to) . The thing is, like real prefects they all actualy hate eachother and spend there waking hours thinking of ways to get one up on the headgirl (think Mean Girls, but frumpy) There tombola stand at the Summer fete was like Sotherby's as they tried to bring in better and better prizes - which also showed there wealth by proxy. I offered a packet of Super Noodles! They are the mums that reserve front row seats at assembly and gives the teacher a weeks stay in their spanish villa. They Make sub standard cakes for the endless charity events at school.

So why the big rant today? Well this is what I overheard one of them say today. "Pah! they should rename the after school club to ...I dont love my child enough to get her at 3:30 club"

Listen up cunt, and listen up good. Because I didnt sell myself out and marry for money to end up in a loveless sexless relationship - noooo I married a poor immigrant and still have a sexless relationship. I have to work mother fucker, no actually I have a fucking career, and that career is the one thing that stops me from being the stereotypical mother, with a brown baby, yardie baby daddy  and a Staffordshire bull terrier.  I provide for my child without a penny from your Charles taxes. I work hard in the city and see my daughter for precisley 2 waking hours a day - because I love her, because I want her to grow up and aspire to achieve in business not open her legs to the closest banker. You moan about how you are so stressed and busy - how can I possibly get my legs waxed, meet Carol for lunch and go to Sainsbury's all in one day. I am stressed because I have deadlines to meet and corperate wankers to pacify (not you boss! : )  )Mortgages and bills to pay. Then after nine hours of that I head home cook, clean, love, bath, read, play with my child in the precious time I have. So dont you ever judge me (insert chicken head, hands on hips) Look when our kids are grown up I will probably be rich, running my own business filled with the sense of achievment and pride from my daughter, you will be waiting for Charles to pull his dick out of his secretary and come and taste your lavender soufle recipe.
Do something Per Una mum, give yourself something more than being just a mum, then my taxes wont have to pay for your valium addiction.
Ohhh I feel better now! Breathe , oh hang on one more thing.....Catholic School mums, please actualy go to church. God is watching!

In other news, I have a half day, but I'm not going to pick Summer up at 3:30pm ...

Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Day 28 - Incy Wincy Spider

Summer today wont go anywhere upstairs unless she has her pink umbrella open. She is going to the toilet sat underneath a brolly.
It all started this morning during our typical school rush. We were just about on track to get out the door when I remembered I left my glasses upstairs. Being too lazy to climb the 13 steps (you dont get the curves of ten Kardashians by walking up stairs willy nilly) i turned it into a game for Summer. "See how fast you can run upstairs and find mums glasses - i'll time you!"
After counting to 134 i realised this may have been a mistake. I relented and climb 4 steps (caught my breath) then shouted up to see what was wrong.
"Mum come here" a scared little voice replied
Looking at the remaining 9 steps I said "no come here, quick now or we will be late"
"No she cried "theres spiders!"
Summer has a thing about spiders, after part time dad, Spider was her first word, a spider was the first thing she drew. But I thought we got over the fear when I brought her Charlottes Web dvd and she cried her eyes out for 2 days solid.
Now she is shaking as she points to 2 spiders on the ceiling above the stairs which are either fucking or one is eating the other. Its a bit like watching a nothern couple pissed up on a night out in leeds city center . I beg, i plead...please just come, its fine, its Charlotte, please ... All from the comfort of my 4th step.
But no she shall not be moved, for surely the spiders will choose to jump down on her the moment she walks beneath them, will wrap her in a web and suck out her insides leaving her as just a shell of coco colured skin.
My pleading turns to shouting, pointing and threats "dont make me come up those stairs"! The pair of us make quite some racket screaming at eachother at 7:50 on a wednesday morning. Suddenly enters Rastamouse (part-time dad) who is severly pissed that this noise has woken him up from his beauty sleep (on the couch),he barges in wearing an incredibly tight pair of tropical themed boxers (with added morning glory) runs upstairs picks Summer up and puts her on the front door step. He mumbles something at me in Patois adjusts his crotch and goes back to the couch. Summer is as stunned as I am, not because he managed to defuse the situation, not because of his coca cabana shrink fit undies but because neither of us have ever seen him awake at this time of day before.
If Summer doesnt wake up in the morning tomorrow, i'm gonna tell her theres a spider on the ceiling. I can always get her therapy when she's older.

Tuesday, 12 July 2011

Day 27 - A Jamaican in Bromley

It's 5pm, my office phone rings;
"Yo, wha me fi do with dis den?"
"Yo" back at ya, part time dad, obviously he has no time for pleasentaries, and still is yet to grasp the concept that I can not see through the phone and help him out with whatever 'dis' maybe without a gramatically correct description. 'How mi fi cook it?" He asks.
BZZZZZ! I press my imaginary game show Buzzer. 'It's food, the Jamaican wants to know how to cook a food item".
"What is it?" I ask part-time dad.
"Mi feel fi say a sasidge, but it 'ard' -
 yes, part- time dad has come across his first vegetarian sausage. There is a silence at the other end of the phone. I wait. ... 'How dem do dat then?"

I have a deadline to hit in 30 mins - there is no way i have time to explain a soya based product that is dyed and flavoured to taste like pig that is sold to people who dont eat pig to a 32 yr old man that ate his first slice of Pizza 4 years ago. Its not that he is ultra fussy, this is just a man who literally killed his own dinner for the first 15 yrs of his life. If it didnt come out of the ground or sea you didnt eat it. It turned out that he had already tried to cook it in all three ways, microwave,oven,hob. - I told him to boil it for shits and giggles and put the phone down.
This is the man that is raising my daughter...well he is cheaper than a polish nanny!
As you can tell Rastamouse and I are back on speaking terms. The cease fire ended last night at around 1 in the morning. He creeped into my room and sat at the end of my bed. I pretended to be asleep. Then he spoke to my supposedly sleeping body " mi tink you hotter now your hair is growing longer" ahhh how sweet I hear you say. This is nothing new ,he often says what he feels to me when I am asleep so as not to crack his hard black exterior. Sometimes, rarely I catch him out by pretending to be asleep. I often get a kiss , an I love you, the odd I'm sorry. When I was pregnant he woke me up/nearly killed me by feeding me Maltesers in my sleep. So last night when he told me that I am now more attractive to him with longer hair....i opened one eye and said..." And youre hotter when you have money in your pockets". He kissed his teeth and went off to watch Babestation.
In Summer news: she wet herself again at school and got another nurses red slip for "walking" into a tree. Both I fear were done on purpose. She also gave me a detail (read horrific) description of my mothers burial process and mocked me for crying at the funeral which was 2 1/2 yrs ago. All in all a great day.

Monday, 11 July 2011

Day 26 - Priceless

Its 17 days until payday. I have exactly £87 pounds to survive on. No benefits are coming to save me on Wednesday, there's no mum to bail me out. The bank man said he wouldnt feel comfortable loaning me a pen let alone extending my overdraft. Anything worth ebaying has been ebayed. Part time dad wont make a penny as an escort. I have to get to work (£6.50 per day), pay for a school trip (£12 for somewhere she has already been )and buy groceries,laundry and pet food (£80) I have to also hope Summer manages not to loose/break her school shoes in this time (6th pair this year)
Things aren't looking good. I'm no mathemation but the formula for survival over the next 2 weeks and 3 days is looking like E=Mc2 = Fucked!
You could say I am feeling somewhat stressed,anxious,annoyed. And it is this time my darling daughter decides to be at her most annoying. Pushing every button in the hope that I go into full panic attack melt down and the ambulance is called again (she likes the flashing lights). I am trying to do the math whilst see what I can rustle up with a can of chickpeas and a cuppa soup for my tea. She is bouncing off the walls, tying the cat and dog together with her rosemary beads, whilst again screaming at the boy next door to jump out of his window.(I pray he never actualy believes that she will catch him) I just want 5 mins to breathe and come up with a plan. She wont settle down to bed she is jumping and giggling, chatting and playing. I reach bursting point. I lie on my bed and switch on my Relax app. The soothing hypnosis tones of a man I dont know telling me I am a 'strong confident women...relax' ahhhh yes I will relax. Summer strolls in curious as to who the man is in my room (this is a novelty) she sits next to me in silence listening to the hypnosis tape.
Now I dont know if hypnosis is like vodka, i.e the smaller you are quicker it takes effect, but by the time hypnosis man counted down from ten Summer had passed out next to me. I checked she was breathing, I shook her a bit...she was out for the count. I have hypnotised my daughter to go to sleep!. I feel somewhat guilty, stupid that I never tried this before. I have found a secret weapon that will turn bedtime into a relaxing pleasant time that can have Summer knocked out in 3 mins.
This is great....probably unethical, but fantastic.
I have 82 pounds left until payday, but hypnotising your child is priceless.

In other news : Summer wouldnt get out of bed this morning, so I told her that she would miss her school trip if she didnt hurry up. When we got to the bus stop I told her I got the days mixed up. I knew it wasnt today all along, I'm horrible.

Sunday, 10 July 2011

Day 25 - another shit story

Summer left me a present...in the bathroom...3 huge turds!
I stood for a while and admired them. This is surely the 8th wonder of the world. How could my 5yr old daughter physically push something of this size out of her arsehole, not once but 3 times. These beasts are each the size of an artic roll, they are sat there bobbing away...they look strangely pleased with themselves.
I pop my head out of the bathroom and look at Summer, she is in no pain, she is not walking like John Wayne, she hasnt torn herself a new arsehole. I actually want to put Summer on the scales and see how much weight she has lost. She cannot even possibly have consumed that much food to produce that much well formed shit. It will remain one of the great unanswered questions in the world.
The last time I saw poo that big was when I myself was a child. The event has scared me. My brother and I were playing quite happily when we heard mum calling us from the bathroom. She had been in there some time. We stood outside the door as she gave us instructions. My brother was to get some rubber gloves and I some washing up liquid, we were to bring them to her, hand them over, not look.
We did as we were told. We were afraid, we sat holding hands in silence outside the bathroom petrified about what was happening to mum on the other side of the door. After what seemed like an eternity and several flushes mum came out flustered, "keep out" she said "i need to find a wooden spoon" ...well there was no way we were going to listen to her, if mum had given birth in the loo we were going to see our sibling before she broke it up with the wooden spoon. We peered over the loo seat and staring back up at us was the biggest turd imaginable. So.big that my mum had to lubricate herself with fairy liquid. to get it out. I can still see it now. It haunts my dreams. Eventualy Dad decided it was too big to flush even when broken down with the wooden spoon and he then chose to put it in a Safeway's bag. I think he later buried it in the garden.

I hope you have all eaten your dinner.

Saturday, 9 July 2011

Day 24 - Shameless

A couple of times a year a gaggle of us all get together to celebrate one of my 'honory'mums birthday with a family BBQ.
As the years have gone by there have been more kids born and less husbands/partners that have stuck around . There may be a direct link.

We start of with good intentions, cooing over eachothers kids and wiping the kids grubby hands from sticky sauces and lollipops. What we end up with is barefoot ferral children beating the shit out of eachother while we practicaly free poor vodka into each others mouths.
Its these times that Summer doesnt seem so mental. We may all be broken home families but together we are one big beautiful dysfunctional family. We have Cheryl and Lyn - the young grandmas, who I havent seen sober since 1995, Gay Michael, Gay Jarvo (who isnt gay but I'm sure will come out when he realises none of us will sleep with him) Lisa and her kids, one autistic and one aspergers (say no more), Mary and her 2 boistrous boys who arent happy unless they have someone in a headlock. Sarah and Rachel (not lesbians but sisters) and there 4 beautiful children all under 4. Finaly Aunty Clare who is yet to have kids but the only one of us with a maternal bone in her body (again, I'm sure there is a link there) put us all together with vodka,fags and E numbers and its like a being in the very worst most roughest council estate, we would shame Shameless. Single mothers, booze and 9 kids that resemble a Dulux paint colour chart. (Jesus, I see now why we are all single) We zip them into the trampoline and let them fend for themselves. Its like watching Roman Gladiators fight lions at the colossium. Us mums sit at a good distance, watching them tear chunks off eachother, while Gay Jarvo goes into the pit to pull out the bleeding broken ones. Things usualy peak around 9 when the kids are wildly tired and the mums and gays are drunk. I have never met Lyns neighbours but they are either deaf,dead or on holiday because the sound is like hyeenas on acid, shrieking kids, drunken divas (the gays) and stressed out pissed up mother, if I lived next door I would call the police.
It always , always ends badly... the kids are grubby and realising the impending neglect gather the youngest and seek shelter inside, the nanas are pissed on the trampoline (until it breaks), we cry and then get angry over husbands/boyfriends of yester year, discuss things like shitting in a birthing pools and the stitching up of flappy fannies, and then Gay Jarvo tries to dry hump us all.
This is us and our kids, all different colours,abilities and disablities. We are the middle classes nightmare. We are noisey and brash,we couldnt care less who's child is the brightest, most talented, because this is our version of family. I know that if Summer ever killed me and buried me in the garden that these women would step in my shoes,risk their own lives and take Summer under their wings.

Happy Birthday Lynne the original scummy mummy x x

Thursday, 7 July 2011

Day 23 - it's pissing down!

In line with our new found love hate relationship with the Wii. Summer gave me a taste of the real wee this morning. No dont worry she didnt throw it on me again.
Waiting for the bus in the rain this morning, Summer stars jigging up and down. "Do you need the loo?"
Jig jig continues. I tell her the bus will be here soon so go now or you will have to hold it till we get to school.
Jig jig jig. "Summer if you piss yourself on the bus people will think your a baby and laugh" she jigs and tells me she doesnt need to go.
Jig jig jig jig, holds crotch, winces in pain. "Summer?"
"Oh jesus ok, quick,quick lets go wee" I scan the area. Its raining, the bus is due in 5mins, not enough time to get home, cant let her wee at the bus stop. We run in the rain, round the corner, but the morning commute is coming towards us. They will think us ferrel, we cant wee here. Summer jiggs and jiggs moans and pleads. If she wee's herself we will have to go home to change. I will be late for work. Quick down here..shit garbage truck. Were can we go?
Do not Enter. Reads the sign. Perfect. Summer and I scale the barrier to the disused building site. Summer already has her knicker down ready to be lifted up, assume the position. I put her in my arms and lift her legs up. A smile reaches her face, we both feel relief as she empties her bladder. Ahhhh nice, were coming to the end of the flow now, has she stopped? i think as i bring her legs down. Noooooo she hasnt she is now pissing allover my flip flops and ankles, me jeans are wet. I get caught everytime, she always ends up dry. She giggles along with builders who have turned up to work.

In other news, i watched her do Wii fit yoga and smelt every single fart she made to every single move.

Wednesday, 6 July 2011

Too cool for school

Not once has Summer responded to the question "what have you done at school today?" with an academic account.

Today she responded: "some boy got kicked in the nuts, and his nuts bled"

Nuts? Where did she get the term nuts from? Has she been hanging out with Millwall fans again. I am more a fan of "bollocks" myself and Part time dad is "balls"

"What did you do in school?"
"Have a jacket potatoe for lunch, this girl picked her nose and so and so is being mean to so and so"
"Did you read?"
"Did you do math"
"No - but so and so spat in my sandwich"
"Oh dear" who's bullying my girl?
"Its ok I let him"

I would love to be a fly on the wall when Summer is at school. I am told she is popular .. I imagine her sat in a secret corner of the playground with a huddle of kids around her mezmerised as Summer imparts all the bad things she knows. "Lesson one Cockblocking, Lesson two flooding, lesson three the booby grab" it seems the kids love her, but I'm not so sure about the parents. I am not in with the school yummy mummy set as I work full time, but on the rare ocassion I get to drop Summer at school at the normal time, i am treated with suspicion, i created Summer, the girl who is damaging the minds of reception and therefore I must be avoided at all costs. Once I saw a nanny physicaly shield her child from Summer and me whilst she gave me one of the most disgusting looks imaginable.
When Summer started school I told her to behave because I had installed a secret camera in the classroom so I could watch her at work and see what she is up to. She spent the first month scowering the room to find the camera, and when she thought she had found it she would come home and ask me if I saw her pulling faces, stealing pens, the boy she had put it a headlock for me and frequently wiggling her bum to 'camera' . Soon after that her teacher and I decided it was time for the 'camera' to come down.

I will never know what she does at school, I'm not sure if I want to.

Day 22 - Wii part 2

I have said 'point the remote at the screen' about 62 times in the last 2 minutes.  She is moaning when she loses, she is impatient, she has the balance powers of George Best after 3 pints of Vodka, she keeps calling me for help... press the A Summer, press the A!!!!!!!!
But she won't give up. She keeps playing and playing despite her being dreadful. She then refuses to eat our burned, cold dinner until she wins Table Tennis, every sound that comes out of her mouth his negative and whining. I develop a nervous twitch because every now and then she screams and I jump.
How could things change so dramatically in less than 24hrs. When the Wii first joined us I thought that all my prayers had been answered. I thought the  WII would fit in where Part time dad left off - the Wii was a babysitter, an entertainer, someone I could count on, a friend to turn to when Eastenders was finished, I think the remote vibrates as well, so you know, good times.
When Summer finally went to bed, I tried to enjoy the calm with her sleeping next to me only to be punched in the face by her still playing Table Tennis in her sleep. I went downstairs to have a bit of a 1 on 1 time with the Wii - to see if it could redeem itself. No... it just took the piss out of me all night, first it took the piss about me having an Wii age of 59 (I am 29) then it super-sized my Wii avatar after I got weighed so it was more reflective of the Super Size me. Every time I completed a challenge it said I wasn’t good enough and made these sad depressing, disappointed faces at me (much like I give Summer) .  

In other news Part time dad has realised that I am not talking to him and is fighting fire with fire - he is not trying to talk to me either, copycat!  He has even gone as far as having a friend with him at times when we may have to talk so that we can't argue (as I am terribly middle class I wouldn’t dream of it) yes Rasta mouse's friend... Ghost (this is the only name I know him as, not sure if he was christened it, he too is Jamaican so there is a good chance)  he has been at our house during the Summer handover time (after school, when I get home from work, before he goes and plays pool) he buffers all possible screaming matches between PT dad and I and he has been very good at making conversation during the frequent death stare awkward moments. Not sure if Ghost is a positive influence on Summer through as when she answered the door yesterday she whispered '' pretend you are the police!!'' 
'Why ? ' I whisper back
''because Ghost is scared of them''
''that’s silly Summer police are nice people''
''so why did he tell daddy he has been running away from them today''

Time for your friend to leave PT Dad.

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Day 21 - Wii Glee

It took 21 days, but ladies and gentlemen we have a break through. Last night was, in short, pleasant.
At first I was dreading coming back with the Wii picturing the arguments and tantrums,sticking bits up the nose, throwing things around the room whilst we try and set it up (and that was just from part time dad). But Summer was passive all the way through, she remained calm during the whole 1hr long set up process.
Summer is a bad looser, so I was sure she would moan and throw the remote at the dog everytime she lost, but she didnt. She just shrugged and carried on. 2 hours went by of her being focused and entertained. I didnt know what to do with my self. I dont think she has been occupied for this long by anything since she painted herself green.
When bed time came I expected a protest but she followed me upstairs quietly. I told her she had to read her school book and instead of her tearing the pages out to use for fire wood she opened up and read the words near perfect. The cat, the dog and I sat open mouthed in amazement. Who is this child? And as she kissed me and turned over to sleep she didnt even fart on me. I felt like there was a stranger in my daughters bed. My boobs havent been grabbed, the pets are calm and anxiety free, the cats even sticking around long enough to eat. I go downstairs ...early, where I will have time to myself tonight. I take the Wii in my hands and cradle it as if it was the baby jesus. The Wii will never understand the gifts it has bestowed upon me. I kissed its cool exterior. With the Wii around I think I may just live to see 30!

Monday, 4 July 2011

Day 20 - War - Hurgh, what is it good for!

So Rasta mouse (Part Time Dad) finally decides to bogle on in as I put Summer to bed. Don’t come up here part time dad or I will drag you back down the stairs by your nuts. If you haven’t sensed already, I am still fuming at his M.I.A act yesterday.
Summer hears the door go and her little afro pops up from under the sheets. ‘Daddy!’ she exclaims. I give her the look of, don’t you dare go downstairs and love that man who abandoned us to have merriment with his friends.  She practically flips me the finger , heads downstairs and run’s into PT Dads arms. Bastards both of you!
I had it planned,  I would be in bed when he came home, he would see his clothes bagged up smelling of cats piss and feel awful, he would rush upstairs, cry into my bosom about how unfairly he had treated me and we would make emotional love.
Realising this is a long shot Plan B was put into effect: not talking to the bastard for at least a week.
I can hear him acting like nothing is wrong, throwing Summer around the room as she giggles with delight as I creep to the top of the stairs to try and listen to what those cheating gits are up to.  
If I go downstairs Summer will engage me in conversation and bring PT DAD into it, then we would be talking and I would have lost, I will not speak to him, he needs to be punished!
‘Yeah she was grumpy today daddy, yes she did some shouting, look have you seen your clothes?? Hahahah it is funny isn’t it daddy!’’ there are laughing at me, the pair of them laughing, mocking me. Worst of all is Summer, she has chosen to be on Team Part Time Dad, this is new to me, because I know for a fact that she loves me most, she tells me so,  she loves me mostest! But it’s all lies isn’t it – because right now you love him mostest, oh you fickle piece of shit.
‘’Ohh me gonna kill him to blud clart when him get home!’’ – are you serious PT Dad are you mimicking me, mimicking me in a Jamaican accent, you can’t even take this seriously enough to mimic me in normal my cockney tones.
Summer is loving this, they are bonding over a mutual hatred for me.
‘’Summer bed!’’ I shout, they both go silent…. Then burst out laughing. It’s way past her bedtime now and he is being irresponsible. OK PT Dad you’re on! This is war and I will win.
I slam my door and turn up my TV so there bonding session won’t disturb me. Keep her up all night, see if I care, because you will have to take her to school tomorrow, you will have to deal with the tears and tantrums, the umbrella arguments, because I quit.
I wake up this morning and head downstairs to see an impossibly cute scene of the two of them passed out on the sofa, surrounded by biscuits, crisps and with the Disney Channel still on.
Things won’t be so cute or funny in an hour when you have to get her to school. I set the alarm 15 mins late, hide her school shoes and write ‘Fuck You’ in multi - coloured fridge magnets.
Tonight I will come home late from work and will bring back the WII – ha! Summer will then love me the mostest again and Rastamouse will feel my wrath,,,, SHIT! It’s our anniversary tomorrow!  I can’t talk to him to remind him! Shit, shit, shit!

Sunday, 3 July 2011

Day 19 - Blogg Off

This is not a happy blog today, this is not a 'oh isnt my daughter so cheeky'blog. this is a, I'm on my period, i'm tired, my daughter needs testing and Part time dad is a wanker type of blog.

Rasta mouse has gone awol with his 'easy crew' of other crappy dads and Summer is trying to test me. The pair of them wont rest until I am rocking in the corner eating my own ear wax.

I ask Summer for 5 mins peace while I sit in my room and gather my thoughts (these thoughts are mainly whether I should set fire to PT dads clothes or have the cat piss on them) Summer sensing the mood, leaves me be and watches cartoons downstairs.

5 mins turn into an hour of uninterrupted peace .. I don't hear her, I'm dreading to think what she is up to now. Do I go down now or wait until the fire alarm goes off? She makes that choice for me.
Enter Summer, just in knickers with a bottle of my baby pink nail polish all over her skin. She seems to have poured most of it into her belly button, painted both armpits and coloured in both nipples. I cant even talk. I go to the bathroom to run the bath for her, and start to take in the destruction that lays in wait for me. The loo has a toilet roll shoved down it and there is brown stuff on the seat, on the sink running down the wall to the living room. I follow the dirty protest and survey the damage as 3 bottles of nail varnish bleed into my oak wood floors, i release the cat from the kitchen draw, take her clothes of the light fitting, wipe yoghurt of the TV, turn the tap off, put the sofa round the right way and turn the microwave off.
The dog is licking the brown marks of the wall and a pot of Nutella on the floor calms down my fears of clearing up her poo twice in one week.
I just remember that I chucked the nail varnish remover out after I caught her sniffing it like a bag of glue last week. So Summer is going to have to be scrubbed to within an inch of her life.
I give up today! This weekend,this week has been hard, thank god for work tomorrow where I can mingle with the streesed free childless majority and pretend for 8hrs that I am care free just like them.
Im off to fill part times dads pockets and shoes with dirty cat litter.

Saturday, 2 July 2011

Day 18 - the 8 emotions of motherhood

The last 24 hours have been somewhat specıal.

It started wıth prıde, as Summer showed me her sports day wınnıngs: 1st ın the 50m sprınt!, ı am ashamed to admıt that at fırst I thought she stole ıt. However a teacher confırmed that she had won ıt faır and square and was a one horse race by all accounts! Mmmm prıde, that feels good, Summer ıs good at somethıng good! Beamıng,delıcıous prıde. She will be in the Oympics! Part time dad has given her a useful Jamaican trait! My girl is the next Usain Bolt, i start thinking big, commercials,sponsorship deals. Pictures of Summer on cereal boxes rather than crimwatch as once feared.

Guılt,heart stabbıng guılt...I wasnt there, I wasnt there for her fırst sports day! To see her wın! Oh the paın I feel.
I couldnt take the tıme of work as ıts super busy and had already taken tıme off thıs week to dıscuss Summers erotıc dancıng wıth her head teacher. I vision Summer in the future being interviewed after winning her gold medal thanking PT dad for his support but not me. "Well Piers my mum was never there for me, she even missed my first ever sports day" the live audience boo and hiss me and my buring efergy is used as the next olympic torch.
I shall buy her stuff, yes that will make us both feel better. I missed sports day but here have this Moshi Monster, have 2!
Anger, 3 hours later I am trying to negotiate her off the roof of my car, she has climbed to the roof of the 4x4 (yes I am that cunt who kills trees and drives a stupid big car to travel 3 miles a week of suburban street) please come down Summer the neighbours are judging!

Dispair, the dog has escaped she is running down the road like a crazed beast. Summer is cackling on the roof. My heart is pounding!

Fear , screams come from a garden at the end of the street, my dog has gate crashed a 6yr old birthday party and is running around like a loon as mothers faint and fathers herd there children to safety. A muscular staffordshire bull terrior crossed with demon will have that effect. (Yes I am that cunt who is married to a yardie and has a brown baby and a dangerous looking dog) except Snow is a 2 yr old softie who would quite happily show burgulars round the house if given the chance.

Calm, dog and child secured we sit down to a guilty chinese and Eastenders.

Panic, I dont feel well, I cant breathe, ouch chest...is...hurting...call....for...help

Stupidity, Its 11pm, I am in hospital hooked up to an ECG, thermometer in my mouth, other thingy stuck on my finger whilst my neighbour is twittering pictures of me to her friends. What I thought was a heart attack was a combination of panic attack and wind.

Summer is visibly disapointed that I am not dead, but was impressed by the ambulance. PT dad came down off the bridge when he realised I survived, and that he had dodged sole custody again.

Friday, 1 July 2011

Day 17 - She bangs,she bangs

When Summer fınally arose thıs mornıng she looked as though she had been warmıng Davıd Haye up for hıs fıght thıs weekend. (Haye would have undoubtably lost) she was covered ın cuts,scratches and bumps (a sıght not seen sınce she showered the cat) dırty plasters were stuck on elbows and knees.
What the hell happened at school?
"Summer how dıd you hurt yourself?"
"The tractor" referıng to a wooden tractor ın her playground, we dont farm!
"Well what happened?"
She looks at me and smıles....

Sınce Summer started school ın September she has wanted to achıeve 3 thıngs,
1 - the most entrıes ınto the accıdent book
2 - to be on fırst name terms wıth the school nurse (we send her chrıstmas cards )
3 - plasters- any shape,any sıze. Stıck em on lıke the vıctorıa cross and she wıll wear ıt wıth prıde

Summer's school lıfe ıs just about these three thıngs, and she ıs very acomplıshed.

Rather than waıt for fate to take ıt's course Summer has taken matters ınto her own hands and sped up the process. It started wıth the boat (wooden,playground we are not fıshermen)

"What happened?" She has a huge cluster of lumps on her head
"I accıdently ran ınto the boat"
"How dıd you do that, ıts huge, dıd you not see ıt"
"Yes ı saw ıt"
"So I wıll tell you the truth mummy." Shıt!
"I ran ınto ıt on purpose, ı ran ınto ıt a few tımes"
I count the lumps- ı would say fıve good attempts at glory
"I just wanted a plaster"
Well you dıdnt get a plaster, but you dıd get concussıon, epıc faıl, and now the red slıp from school ıs tellıng me Summer needs monıtorıng for 24hrs and what sıgns to watch out for. Whıch means at some poınt Part Tıme dad wıll also have to monıtor you and I wıll get another "me tınk she dead" phone call.

We now have 7 of those red slıps, Summer keeps them ın her treasure box. Along wıth old plasters and drawıngs of the school nurse.

It seems that yesterday was the Boats turn to get ıt, and what a fıne job she dıd too. She got 2 plasters, 3 grazes to the face all achıeved wıthout her needıng to be resusıtated. It's an ımprovement, blood over bumps ıs her ethos after all.