Workin' nine to five...

No, not a post about Dolly Parton (though I LOVE her!).

As per usual, it is all about me. Or, more specifically, my job.

My lovely boss, Elaine, has been on holiday in Tunisia, so I worked 4 days last week instead of 2. Unfortunately for her, she came home with a tummy bug as a souvenir. So I have ended up working this week as well. I have worked six out of the last nine days, and momma isn't used to this much office time.

I woke up this morning with a feeling of dread and sadness that I haven't felt since I first started working outside the home. I haven't been able to drop the kids off at school. I haven't been there when they got home. I haven't prepared their evening meals. I haven't exchanged gossip with the other mums on the school run. I haven't had a single day to myself to crack on with housework or extra DIY projects. I haven't been able to go to the gym. And I am going to be back at work on Thursday and Friday.

Today is going to be especially manic. I will be taking an extra long lunch break so I can drive to Scunthorpe and give a massage. It was supposed to be yesterday, until I got called in to work. I told Elaine I could only work today if I could work around my regular massage client. So I will be grabbing a burger on my way home and coming back to man the desk here. And then going home and trying to squeeze in that whole parenting thing.

I don't know how all those working mothers do it. Seriously, it's only been nine days and I feel like I am burning the candle at both ends. This is one intense juggling act!

But the extra money will be nice, and I am hopefully saving all of the Beck Hill Motors employees from exposure to weird Tunisian germs. And then next week, things should be back to normal.

I only hope it doesn't take too long to catch up on the housework. ARGH!

philosophy

Lucky thirteen!

Thirteen years ago yesterday, I was lucky enough to marry the coolest guy I knew. And guess what--he is still the coolest guy I know.

Seriously, I am still so madly in love with my husband. He's gorgeous, hard working, talented, caring, affectionate, creative, kind, intelligent, and very generous. He even thinks he's funny!

I never could have imagined all those years ago how I feel about him now. I thought I loved him then, but I have discovered a depth of feeling I never knew I was capable of. Martin has helped me learn and grow as a person. He has helped me become more patient and loving. He has given me children. He has supported us all. He has continued to love me through some very tough times. I am truly blessed to be called Mrs. Gilbert!

My dad insisted he was only marrying me for the green card. Martin and I still laugh about that. Thirteen years is a long time to work for an immigrant visa!

Sadly, we didn't get to see much of each other yesterday. My boss is in Tunisia so I am working four days this week instead of my usual two. But we did go out on a date on Saturday night. The kids had a sleepover with their Nanna, and we watched "The Giver" and ate delicious Turkish food (oh, I forgot to mention that Martin has expanded my culinary horizons!). The best part of our anniversary date is that we never ran out of things to talk about. And we hardly talked about the kids at all.

Ever watch Monty Python's "Meaning of Life"? There is a scene where a middle aged couple is having dinner in an authentic Medieval dungeon and they order a conversation. Watch the video above...

Luckily, our conversations don't go like that.

Yet!

Anyway, I love you Martin, Here's to another thirteen years...

Whirlwind

We just got back from a three week trip to the U.S. It was amazing!

My Daddy Doug paid for our tickets, which was so incredibly generous of him. And he picked me and the kids up from the airport, too. The kids did so well with the trip over, only losing it when our flight in Charlotte was delayed by two hours. They were so tired, and there were tears involved. But all in all, they were real troopers!

We spent our first week without Martin, who had to work. We got to hang out with Grandpa Doug, and meet his new girlfriend. Her name is Michelle, and she is very lovely. We got to have a Bowcutt family BBQ. We got to do some shopping. We saw all of the Cook family during that first week. Dylan got to eat several Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers from Wendy's.

Martin arrived just shy of a week after we did. His flight was WAY more enjoyable than mine! It was so nice to see him. Being away from each other for so long always reminds me how much I love my husband. He's my best friend in the whole world, and I'm crazy about him.

Anyway, I won't bore anyone with all the details. I will just say that we had a magical time, filled with family, friends, and fun. And it was really hard to come back to England.

Before we left, I was toying with the idea of giving up on my dream of moving back to Utah. I was debating (with myself) the merits of raising my kids there or staying here. And after spending time back with my family, I have decided that Utah is definitely where I want to be. I am so much happier there. And not just because we were on holiday, either. I was doing pretty much what I would have been doing if we had been back in England, with the kids off school and me off work. I was so much happier because my family was there.

I remember one night just sitting around talking to all my sisters, brother, and brothers-in-law. The kids were running around like maniacs. It was absolute chaos, which I normally don't like at all. But I looked around the room and just soaked up all the love that was there. And I realized that THIS is what I've been missing. My family aren't perfect. There's noise and drama, just like any other family. But they are MINE! I miss them so much that it actually hurts.

And can I take a moment to talk about my older brothers, Justin and Chris? And their wives, Nikki and Melanie? I didn't know them growing up, but I am loving the chance I've had to spend more time with them, too. They are great people, and I want to continue developing my relationship with them.

Oh, and my new niece and nephews--they are a great addition to the family. And my adorable niece that I met for the first time on this trip. ALL of my nieces and nephews, really.

Sometimes, I look around at my siblings and parents and wonder how I got so lucky. They are so amazing!

So we are back in sleepy little Barton-upon-Humber now. And I have come home with a renewed desire to sell our house and move back to Utah. Also, my sisters' homes have inspired me. So this means, of course, that I am extra motivated to do more DIY projects. And with that aim, I have gone to work...

Painting the tiles in the bathroom white (the walls are next, after I finish the second coat of tile paint.

Painting the top bedroom and having Martin draw up plans for some built in storage (including a window seat--how fun is that?) so we can move the kids up there. Also needs a second coat!

Buying the paint to refresh the third bedroom, which we will be turning into a guest bedroom/reading room. It's going to be really super nice!

And work continues on my double wedding ring quilt. I'm almost ready to sew the blocks together. Then it's just binding and quilting, which I intend to do by hand. GREAT winter project, huh? I want to do another patchwork quilt after this one, too. It would seem I've caught the quilting bug. Oh no!

Oh, and speaking of sewing...Martin picked me up a sewing machine off the side of the road. It was out next to somebody's bins for our rubbish collection. It had a small problem which was easily fixed, and I have started using it. It's a much more basic model than my mother-in-law's machine that I'd been borrowing, but it's a Singer, and it is much more pleasant to sew on. In fact, I was working on my quilt on my lunch break. Because it's fun, and it's like Mormon housewife crack!

As soon as I get my busted phone repaired, I will be posting photos on the blog, facebook, and my newly acquired instagram account.

Now, it's back to work.

Granny bike...

I recently posted a picture on Facebook of the bicycle that Martin is restoring for me. It's a vintage bike, made in Barton. Probably manufactured in the very building I work in, where I am typing this now. How very locally minded of me, huh?

We found this bike at the Walton Street market in Hull, a twice weekly market and car boot sale. The first time I saw the bike, I fell in love with it. The man wanted £35 for it, and we decided not to get it that day. A few weeks later we went back, and I got the bike for £25. We bought some painting and sanding supplies and a few other bits and pieces, then my very clever husband went to work on it.

This bike was a hideous mixture of pastel purple, violet, and rust. The brakes, gears, and wheels were covered in decades of greasy dirt. The cable covers were cracked and splitting. It looked a mess. But it looks beautiful now, and is (almost) ready to hit the road. The bolts need some serious tightening, and Martin needs to finish painting and fitting the chain guard and both mud guards to the tyres. Oh, and the mechanism that allows me to shift gears (all three of them).

I took the bike for a short ride on Sunday, and it is a joy to ride! Which comes as a massive relief, and I'll tell you why:

A few weeks ago I was running late for work and when I went to grab the car keys I found that Martin had taken them with him on the school run. So I grabbed his bike and started cycling to work. NIGHTMARE! It was so hard for me to ride it. I had to lower the seat so I could get on, and then the seat was so low that I couldn't extend my legs fully to pedal. I was shaky and nervous the whole time I was on that bike. I thought it was just me, that I couldn't properly ride a bike any more. I worried that my fitness wasn't good enough to ride (which is weird, because I ride a stationary bike at the gym all the time). I felt kind of crappy after I got to work, because I was sweaty and winded, and my legs were on fire. So imagine my relief when, after riding my "new" bike for about the same amount of time, I was nothing but jazzed!

So Martin has borrowed a socket set (the one he needed for my bike was missing!) and will be sorting out the bolts tonight. Hooray! The kids and I might go for a bike ride down to Butts Road park tomorrow--with a picnic. If only I had the basket for the bike. But I won't get that until next week!

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that the bike has cream leatherette handlebar grips? That I will be getting a matching saddle for it? That it came with a basket hook and I will be buying a locally made willow basket for the front? And I have my eye on some beautiful leather panniers?

Yes, my dream bicycle is a granny bike. I will be riding it in my skirt with pride!

I miss it...

I never thought I'd feel thus way, but I miss being a mother of young children. Don't get be wrong, I much prefer older ones. But parenting was simpler when the kids were small. Basically, if they were putting on weight at a steady rate, clean, and hitting their developmental milestones,you knew you were doing it right. I like knowing I'm doing it right! I don't know that any more.

Dylan has been caught stealing again. What can I do to make him see how wrong this is?

Holy smarts, Batman!

The kids have moved up to their new classes. They always spend the last few weeks of the school year with their new teachers here. Don't really know why. I guess so that the teachers can mentally prepare themselves for the new school year before they go on their six week break.

Anyway, Dylan has moved up two classes. Again. I'm kind of getting to the stage where I expect it. He's wicked smart. His teacher, Mrs. Coultas, pulled us to the side and told us that Dylan is probably the brightest pupil she's ever had. No surprise there. Seriously, his intelligence is formidable. I'm worried that he might be so smart he ends up being a sociopath, albeit a high functioning one. Think Sherlock Holmes (as played by Benedict Cumberbatch, of course).

Edith was the real dark horse though. She is very clever, but much more socially inclined than Dylan. I knew she would definitely be going up to the year one class, not the Reception/year one split. But she went up two classes as well. Go Edith! Bless her heart, Dylan is always so far ahead of her so I forget how bright she is for her age. But I'm not worried about her being a sociopath, either.

I am so blessed as a mother. My kids are naughty sometimes, of course. And they drive me up the wall sometimes, too. But they're kids. Isn't that what they are supposed to do? They are also warm, caring, affectionate, intelligent, loving, and helpful. Not every parent is so lucky. And the fact that they're also beautiful? Icing on the cake!

It's been a tough week. I've had this slowly building feeling of complete paranoia. Everyone hates me. Everyone is mad at me. I've done horrible things to people that I don't know about, and they can't forgive me. Something terrible is about to happen. I've felt this way for days, and have kept quiet about it. Mostly because I knew it was irrational. It all hit me really hard on Tuesday night, when the dumbest thing sent me over the edge. I was curled up in the fetal position, crying like a baby and trying to get in touch with someone to talk to. Martin called me back, and he came home from work to just hold me and let me cry. He smelled like chips and pizza, but the hug was wonderful and I seem to be feeling a bit better.

Scary though, because I haven't felt that way since I went on antidepressants. I'm going to give it another week, then if things aren't any better I am going to have my IUD removed and send Martin in for the big "V." He's already cringing and hoping my body adjusts!

Other than that, things are going well. Still no joy on the house, but that's ok. I am enjoying getting on with projects. I finished the throw pillows for the sofa reupholstering job on Sunday, and that looks great. I also redid the living room rug and painted some frames that were hanging on the wall in there. The living room is looking very serene and lovely. Nearly where I want it to be. My bedroom is looking very nice as well. I need to get the kids moved up to the top bedroom soon, so I'll be decorating up there as my next project. It's going to be a bit of a nuisance, but it'll be nice to have a reading/guest room upstairs, with easier access to the upstairs bathroom. And the kids will love being in the top bedroom.

Martin is doing well at work. They are having a month of American food at Stables. I'm itching to try it. I consulted on the menu, and I am really craving a corn dog and some country fried steak. Yum. They aren't as busy as they've been in the past, but a new place recently opened up so that's to be expected. People love novelty, don't they? He's golfing as I type this. And he's got his birthday tomorrow off work. Hooray!

Still in the process of transferring funds to our UK bank account, so haven't bought tickets for our Utah trip yet. It's looking like it'll be late August though, since the kids don't finish school until late July and in early August it's just too expensive to fly! More news as soon as I've got an update for you.

Happy fourth of July, all my American peeps!

My youthful acne, offset perfectly by my grey hair!

I got a new Mirena IUD on Monday. I feel like it's such a great birth control option, and I have always loved it. Almost from day one, five long years ago when I got my first one.

Not really loving it this week, though.

First of all, there was the removal of the old one and insertion of the new. Apparently, not usually a painful process. Well, it bloomin' was for me. My Mirena had embedded itself in my uterus, and they had to pull it out. You know that scene in "The Matrix" where they remove the "bug" from Neo? Yeah, it kind of looked like that. Foreign body covered in my blood, weird little tentacles and all. It hurt SO bad that I nearly threw up. It doesn't help that the vagus nerve is there, and stimulating it can trigger your gag reflex. Anyway, it was not a nice time. But putting the new one in was easy after that. Always a silver lining!

The day was really busy, too. I had to give a massage, then go to Dylan's sports day and have a house viewing (they are not buying). Definitely a day for very strong pain killers!

Now I am enjoying all the benefits of a fresh, and slightly stronger, dose of hormones. I am breaking out. It's freakish, because I haven't had acne problems since, well, forever. Not particularly troubled with bad skin even as a teenager. So the giant pimple on my cheek (of all the stupid places to have a pimple!) is completely driving me crazy.

On a positive note though, it seems like the new Mirena is getting my mood swings under control. Looking forward to brighter days ahead...

Argh!

I just conducted a little experiment with my kids. Dylan was swinging around a tape measure, and I have told him MANY times that it is dangerous. So I had him bring it in the kitchen. I got out a block of cheese and asked him how I normally cut cheese for him. "With a knife," he said, since he is a smart kid. Then I proceeded to cut some cheese with the tape measure. You know, to demonstrate how you can cut someone quite badly with that thin metal. Dylan just looked at me a little bit blankly and said, "Can I have that cheese?" Is it too late to turn down this parenting gig?

Makeup...

I have been thinking about makeup lately. More specifically, how the makeup trends change over the years.

Does anybody remember that line from "My Girl" when Jamie Lee Curtis's character is teaching the main character how to apply makeup? She says "You can never have too much blue eyeshadow!" I remember how it made me giggle, because I started wearing makeup in the 90's.

Funny, how you can always tell a 90's picture by the makeup. Because it was nothing special at the time, really. You went for nude colours on your eyes and cheeks, and VERY dark lipstick. That's just how everybody's face was, and it didn't seem like a makeup trend at all. Just a sensible way of applying the stuff. But now, that style of makeup sticks out like a sore thumb. Just as much as the blue eyeshadow of the 70's or the bubblegum pink lipstick and racing stripe blush of the 80's.

And now? Well, I'm too old now to be totally clued in to makeup trends. I guess only time will tell what the defining look of the Noughties and the teens will be. But I'm pretty sure one day we'll be able to look at photos and go "Man, look at that makeup. SO 2005!"

Deep and intellectual, huh? Pop culture is important, too!

In other exciting BLOG news, we are trying to plan a trip back to Utah for this summer. Any dates we should know about so we can try to accommodate?

Never going back!

I decided to make myself a circle skirt yesterday. I watched an online tutorial on YouTube and it seemed pretty simple. So a friend of mine came along for the ride, we went to Scunthorpe, and I got my supplies. A seam gauge, some new white thread, five yards of fabric. And some dressmaking scissors. Oh, the dressmaking scissors! They are perfection personified. Just using them makes me feel like a more confident seamstress. The weight of them, the size of the blades. The ease with which they cut through four layers of poly cotton blend-like a hot knife through butter! How did I ever use cheap Ikea scissors? Yeah, they cost me £20 ($30). And they were worth every penny. Seriously, I want to do more projects just so I can use those scissors some again! This is even better than the letter opener. Why am I such a nerd?

Little tea leaf!

Which is, of course, Cockney rhyming slang for THIEF!

Dylan stole just over £4 from his dad a few mornings ago. Of course, he got in trouble for it. At this point, "trouble" means that we will not be buying him any more World Cup trading cards for the next two weeks. Pretty serious stuff when you are six years old and World Cup mad!

It was really interesting, talking to him about why it is wrong to steal. He is still at that stage developmentally where he thinks it is only bad if he gets caught. Obviously, some people never get past that phase. I hope he will. We're certainly doing our best.

The thieving incident, combined with all the YA fiction I've been reading lately and the police helicopter circling Barton for about 20 minutes a few days ago, has me thinking about rebellion and anarchy. Weird connection, I know. But I was thinking about George Orwell's classic, "1984," and how "Big Brother is always watching you." And then it occurred to me that even if Big Brother WAS always watching me (and I live in England, so let's face it, he probably IS), I never do anything that would get me in trouble.

Is that a good thing, or is it a little bit sad?

Probably a good thing, right? It means that the government regime I live under is not overly controlling. It also means that I am a law-abiding citizen.

On the other hand, it sort of means that I am a meek little sheep, blindly being led and governed in such a way that I would never go against the status quo.

Hmmm...

Maybe I should stick to autobiographies for a little while. Imagination is going into overdrive.

Oh, and on another note:

The Urban dictionary defines "YOLO" as "Carpe diem for stupid people."

Just had to share, peeps. Because, well, you only live, err, carpe diem!

I don't feel that old!

I looked in the mirror the other night, and I saw my mother looking back at me. Only for a moment. I usually see my father (but more feminine!). And then I did a little mental maths to work out how old I was when my mom was my age. I was twelve.

I do not feel as old as I thought my mother was when I was twelve!

Maybe it is a little bit different for me, since my mother started having children when she was younger and I was 28 when I had my first baby. But maybe it's not.

I still feel like I am playing mom most of the time. I am so unsure of my parenting, and mostly feel as though I'm making it up as I go along. I still sometimes resent the way the children have taken over my life. I feel like I am still young enough to be out having fun, but I can't because of my kids. Did my mom feel like that at 35, too? If she felt that way with teenagers, how did she cope? Because I seriously thought she had it all together...

Hopefully I am fooling my kids into thinking I know what I'm doing!

Testing

Mobile blogging app downloaded to my phone. Just testing it out. Next up? Posting photos to the blog from my phone...

Random thoughts I've been having recently...

1. It's completely absurd, just how much I love letter openers. Seriously, hardly anybody sends letters any more so the only opening I have to do is usually bills. And fingers work just fine for that job. But there's something so satisfying about sliding that letter opener in between the gap of an envelope and sliding it along that top crease. And then you have that nice, neat slit in your envelope instead of an uneven tear all along the top. Yes, I know the envelope is going in the bin. It can't even be recycled because of the glue. But doing a job neatly with the tool intended is so, well, NICE!

2. That bit in a marriage ceremony when you are exchanging vows and saw "With my body I honour you." I have been thinking about that one a lot lately. How on earth do you "honour" somebody with your body? Honour, when used as a verb, is defined as:
to hold in respect or esteem
to show courteous behaviour towards
to worship
to confer a distinction upon
to accept and then pay when due (a cheque, draft, etc)
to keep (one's promise); fulfil (a previous agreement)
to bow or curtsy to (one's dancing partner)

I suppose we could go line by line on this one...

I will show respect to you with my body by not offering it to anyone else.
I will use my body to be courteous to you, by using it to work for you in appropriate and relevant ways.
I will worship you with my body (hey, the procreative act is sacred, right?).
I will confer distinction upon you by using my body to show affection to you, and only you.
I will fulfill my physical marital obligations to you with my body.
I will keep the promise of fidelity that I have made to you.
Do I really need to bow or curtsy to you? Maybe this one's a bit too literal.

So much is packed into this one little phrase. I'm pretty sure that the rest of the vows have multiple meanings as well. How many people really take the time to think about and analyze their wedding vows? How's that for some food for thought?

3.

Nope, I've got nothing else. But I think it's a step forward!

We've had a busy week. The days have flown by, and I can't believe it's already Thursday. It's a big day for my family back in Utah, and I am thinking of you all. Jace, I'm excited for the mail to come. Krystle and Blaine, I'm crossing my fingers for you. And our family here in England? Well, it's just business as usual.

The kids break for half-term this Friday, so we'll have all next week with them. I'm not working, so that'll be nice. We can all sleep late in the mornings (except for Dylan, who will no doubt continue to wake up at about 6am). We can have a few lazy days together and if I can get a bike by then, maybe go on a few family bike rides. We're too skint to do anything too extravagant, but we will all really enjoy spending time together as a family.

I should probably get back to work. I just wanted to get those thoughts down before I forgot them again!

Thoughtless...

Last week, as I was cleaning the bathtub, I had a thought that would have been perfect for a blog post. What was it, you ask? I don't remember.

For years, I have recorded all my random thoughts on this blog. I have poured my heart out to friends, family, and random people who stumble across my blog on the internet. And it has been cathartic and good. Now, I have these fleeting thoughts and instead of recording them, I forget them almost immediately. That's kind of bad. What happened?

I think part of it was that I found other outlets for my ranting. I have a few more friends now, and I see them on a regular basis. I also had just over a year of therapy, which helped me deal with some serious issues that had always been bottled up. The Prozac probably helped, as well. But mostly, it's a matter of exhaustion and the fact that I now access the internet almost exclusively through my phone and kindle. How I wish Windows phones supported mobile blogger!

Maybe I'll do a little bit of research on that this afternoon. That would make me more likely to put a few pictures up, as well. I know you miss those, mom!

Since I can't remember what my brilliant blog post idea was, instead I'll wax lyrical about the book I just finished reading for my book club. It was "The Book Thief," by Markus Zusak. I chose it simply because I had seen a trailer for the film and thought it looked really interesting. And I always prefer to read the book first. Typically, if it was deemed good enough to make into a movie, the book is great. Not always the case, I know. But only one time has the book been a disappointment compared to the movie. And that was "Fried Green Tomatoes," because I really wanted to pretend that the two protagonists were just good friends, and you couldn't do that when reading the book!

Anyway, back to "The Book Thief." I read it in just under a week. There were some nights when I couldn't put it down, reading for an hour or two in one stretch. I loved the fact that the narrator is Death, and I loved the fact that it portrayed WWII Germany in a different light. We learned about the "normal" German citizens, and the way that they suffered during the war as well. Their political and military leaders were, in some cases, absolute monsters. But the people were just trying to keep their heads down and survive. It's not a perspective that we think about very often, and I love a book that makes me think.

I also thought it was beautifully written. The words flowed. There were little snippets of German throughout, which was kind of fun. It also dramatically decreased the number of English "swear words" that you had to read (always a concern because of one of our book club members, Bea, who will stop reading the book if the language becomes a bit fruity).The descriptive passages were perfectly balanced between minimal and over the top (always a pet peeve of mine, and I always skip those passages if they are on the flowery side). And, not to be left out, I cried like a baby at the very end. Seriously, great book. Now I can't wait to see the movie!

For a while there, I sort of forgot how much I love to read. My time has been taken up with TV series, streamed on Netflix. But I've recently rediscovered how awesome books are. I will quite happily spend an hour curled up with a book instead of watching old episodes of "The Good Wife." I've even got a reading chair in the front room now, next to the book shelf with a lamp behind it.

In other news, Martin and I just tackled a huge project together. We reupholstered our sofa. We started on Wednesday, and finished the base of the sofa yesterday. It used to be a lovely gold color, but the kids changed all that for us. It had gone pretty brown. Plus, I have been wanting to decorate the front room with a base of gray and accents in heather colors. So instead of forking out £600 for a new sofa, we spent £45 on upholstery fabric from a market in Hull and borrowed my mother-in-law's sewing machine. Add to that the £20 we spent on a staple gun, and it's still a big bargain. I'm even considering button closures instead of zippers for most of the cushions, since we already have loads of buttons.

It's been hard work, and we're not finished yet. But it looks really good, especially for a first attempt. I've learned a few things, sewing-wise, and will probably want to re-do it at some point (shh, don't tell Martin or he will probably cry). But I'm proud of what we've done so far. It's already a big improvement.

Slowly but surely, my house is starting to look the way I want it to. And when it finally gets there, that's probably when someone will want to buy it!

So there it is, my weekly blog update brought to you courtesy of Beck Hill Motors and a computer that is stationary and already up and running. Nice, huh? More next week, when I will try to remember all of my brilliant (but apparently fleeting) thoughts and write about them instead of just filler.

Peace out!

No news is good news...

He's home!

Martin is finally home from his holiday in Turkey. I'm so glad he's back. It's kind of funny, how much I missed him. We don't even see that much of each other when he's home, and it was a very busy week. But he still does so much for me and the kids. It was like heaven this morning, not having to get the kids AND myself ready for school and work. I got an extra 30 minutes sleep!

He showed us all his pictures from the trip, and it looks absolutely amazing. I've gotten used to a certain kind of historic look, and the places he photographed in Turkey look so very different and exotic. And the beaches. Oh my, the beaches. He says he wants to take the whole family over, and I want that as well. I know envy is a sin, but MAN I am a serious sinner!

I'm especially proud of my husband for setting a good example of our faith to his friends. He said he was so tempted to have a beer with the boys after they'd been on their bikes all day long. And that's saying something, because Martin has not had any problems with the Word of Wisdom since he was baptized nearly 12 years ago. I know it can't have been easy for him to stick to Coke. So well done, baby!

Pretty sad stuff going on at work. My boss's daughter-in-law was diagnosed with cancer a few years back, and they think it might have come back. She's currently in the process of scans and biopsies and is on Morphine for the pain. She is younger than me, and has two little boys aged 7 and 9. Elaine is doing school runs and swimming lessons, and she is very upset. Understandably so, of course. I just hope I can help out enough in the office that she doesn't get too stressed out about work as well. Fingers crossed.

So that's the news from 48 Fleetgate. Just one more tidbit--I am considering going back on the happy drugs. I've been seriously sad and tired for the last month or so. I'm going to wait until I've had my new Mirena IUD fitted, as it does have hormones and it has just about run out. So maybe the sadness is hormonal. But I may be back on Prozac in the next six weeks or so. Any thoughts?

Dear Martin,

Dear Martin,

I hope you're having a good time on your mountain biking holiday in Turkey. I just thought I'd write you this letter to let you know how things are going at home.

The kids and I are basically just sticking to our normal routine. We are doing school runs, swimming lessons, baths, shopping, housework, etc. In addition to that, I have been doing a little bit of DIY, going to book club, and squeezing in some work during school times (my boss, Elaine, has been so wonderfully accommodating).

The bed that you made is fully finished now. I stained it, then waxed the wood. It's a beautiful oak colour. I also managed to finally hang the bed curtains properly. I think you'll be pleased with the effect.

Dylan and Edith have started a new reading competition with school, this one lasting until the half term break. It's only 4 weeks away now. They have both read every single night, as they want the reward. This time, it will be a trip to the "ice-cream parlour" that the school will be setting up. Last night, Edith even read her scripture in the Book of Mormon with no help from me whatsoever. We are really very lucky that they both love to read!

Things have been quiet around the house. I've been very organized in the mornings and we have actually been ready to walk out the door BEFORE the alarm's gone on my phone every day this week. Dylan was a little bit concerned at first that I wouldn't remember to do their pack-ups, but he's confident now that I will make his lunch!

I've been going to bed early--never later than 10:30 all week long--and getting up earlier, too. The house is staying cleaner than it normally does. Things are running more smoothly since you left for Manchester airport on Tuesday morning. No shoes left lying all over the house, no dirty dishes in the sink every morning. No bread crumbs left on the counter, or cupboards being left open. No giant piles of laundry on top of the laundry hamper rather than in it.

I hate it!

I miss having you home to make packed lunches. I miss your noise and your mess and your serious lack of punctuality. I miss you waking me up when you get home from work. I even miss leaving that plate of dinner on the side for you. Every single meal I've cooked this week has had an extra portion left over!

I really missed you on Wednesday, when we would have normally had the day off together. I've come to count on those days with you, when it can just be the two of us, no kids, for a few hours. You help keep me sane and happy and healthy.

So yes, I hope you are having a great time with the lads. But I hope the next four days pass quickly. Because even after all these years, you are still the person I most want to see every day. Going a full week without seeing your best friend is tough!

All my love,

Jamie

Daddy Doug's visit...

My relationship with my biological father has always been a strange one.

He and mom divorced before I was even a year old, and she was remarried by the time I was two (and a half!) to a wonderful man who I grew up calling "dad." Mostly because he IS my dad. He has never treated me any differently than his own flesh and blood, and did an excellent job of raising me. Well, I think so anyway.

My relationship with "Daddy Doug" didn't develop until I was 17, for reasons that I completely understand now that I know him well. We met, it was awkward, we developed a relationship that was completely on my terms, and we had contact as often as I initiated it. Slightly dysfunctional, but still nice.

Then, his wife got sick. Rae Dawn developed Alzheimer's disease about the same time I had two children just 19 months apart. All of a sudden, we had a whole lot in common. His lovely wife and my beautiful children became the sole focus of our worlds, and we talked, laughed, and cried together about the way our lives were going. In short, I guess we bonded.

Then, just last year, a miracle occurred. He called me. For the first time ever, he picked up the phone and initiated contact with ME! It only took 17 years!

He's just spent the last two weeks with us here in Barton. I drove him to Manchester airport on Tuesday to fly home. We had lots of fun, going out to eat, visiting some favorite places, and just hanging out. The kids miss him already. I miss him, too. Because even though our relationship is strange, I really do love him.

It's nice to have the house to myself again though. Because one of the things this visit taught me is that I am becoming a bit of a hermit. When Martin first started working at Stables, I nearly went mad. I was stuck inside every single night, with nobody to talk to and no chance of leaving. Now, though I am still stuck in the house every night with nobody to talk to, I really enjoy that. My evenings are my own. Once the kids are in bed, I can literally do whatever I want (as long as I don't leave the property). Four years on, and I am finally used to Martin's working hours.

Daddy Doug is already talking about coming back. I am already looking forward to that. And not JUST because he brought me a whole bunch of Macaroni and Cheese :)

Always a bridesmaid...

My lovely sister-in-law Cathy is getting married on Saturday. She and John have been together nearly seven years. They are so in love and make such a great couple. I'm so pleased for them!

I went to Cathy's "home hen do" on Saturday. She had another one, a boozy trip to Benidorm, that I was going to attend until it conflicted with Edith's birthday. Bit sad about that one, but Martin has promised me a later holiday as he is off to Turkey next week. Ooh, check out our jet-setting lifestyle!

But I digress. Back to the hen do!

It was in a little tapas restaurant in Cleethorpes. I picked up my saintly mother-in-law and drove us both in. There were 22 of Cathy's female friends there, including her future sisters-in-law, and we spent a delightful evening together, just talking and laughing and (most of them) drinking. Then Martin's mum made a little speech, and there was a Mr. and Mrs. game.

The support for Cathy in her marriage to John was almost overwhelming. Everyone there was so pleased for her, and they all know that Cathy and John will be so good for each other. It made me think back to my own wedding and bridal shower.

When I married Martin, pretty much nobody thought it was a good idea. My dad insisted he was only after a green card, and everybody else was just disappointed that I was marrying outside the church. None of them really knew Martin very well, and they hadn't been around me for years so they couldn't see all the ways that he had influenced me for the better. They only knew that I was marrying a non-member foreigner. How could they have supported me in good conscience? They were there, and they were happy for me, but the overwhelming feeling was that none of them were truly glad I was marrying Martin.

Several years down the line, when we were sealed in the temple, it was different. Most of those same people--aunts, cousins, and sisters--came to our sealing and went to the park afterwards for a picnic. They were happy for me then. I was happy for me then. But that initial support would have been lovely.

As I watched Cathy, in that little room completely surrounded by a loving and supportive network of women, I was more than a little bit jealous. It was like she was being cocooned in their approval and respect. It shouldn't have made me sad, but it did.

I have never before regretted anything about my marriage. Now I regret this. That I flew in the face of all of my family members. That I didn't work harder to seek their acceptance for my choice. That I didn't make sure they all knew Martin for how wonderful he truly is. Because it made our wedding seem all about defiance instead of all about love. And marrying Martin really was all about loving him and wanting to spend the rest of my life with him. If only it had felt that way at the time. Then our wedding would have been a joyous celebration, as Cathy's is likely to be, instead of a sad day for most of my family.