Evening...

We went on a family bike ride the other night. It was really lovely, to get out in the fresh air and stretch our legs. We biked down Queens Avenue, across on Butts Road, down Pasture Road South, across the level crossing, and into Water's Edge. It had rained earlier that day, and the kids had fun splashing through all the puddles. We took in the view of the Humber Bridge, and tried to spot Hull landmarks across the estuary. The sun was blazing, the breeze was cool, and all of us were together.

Times like those, my whole world seems perfect. In reality, it's not. At all. But those rare moments of perfection are sweet, and make the daily grind seem much more bearable.

Life with very young children is physically demanding. Meeting their every need quite literally wears you out. My babies are growing up now, and they pretty much take care of themselves physically. I don't have to wipe bottoms or spoon feed any more. But parenting is still challenging. My greatest difficulty at the moment seems to be not getting irritated by the little darlings. Edith isn't so bad, but Dylan is going through a stag --what I hope is a stage and not just his personality-- that is hard to deal with. Basically, he is a loud, arrogant, annoying little, um, child. He still has moments of sweetness and he just wants a kiss and a cuddle at the end of the day, but he seriously drives me nuts most of the time. I totally love my son, but I sometimes struggle to like him.

Man, did I just commit that sentiment to public record? Let me explain...

Dylan is gorgeous. Seriously, a really good looking kid. He is incredibly bright--like genius level in school. He has a great vocabulary and is wonderfully sensitive. He is passionate about his hobbies. But what this means irl is that he constantly yammers on about football and whatever computer/playstation game he is currently interested in. Minecraft is the worst! He can speak to you like an adult, so you forget he is only eight years old. And emotionally, a very young eight years old. He cries and sulks (though not as much as he did up until about six weeks ago) at the drop of a hat. He is sneaky, constantly trying to play me and Martin against each other. He thinks he knows everything, and constantly butts in with his unsolicited advice or opinions. He tries to take over every single social situation. Oh, and did I mention that he has no concept of personal space or an inside voice?

Makes me wonder what I was like as a child. Though I suspect my nose was buried in a book too often for me to be pushy and loud.

It's probably only a matter of time before Edith starts to annoy me as well. In fact, she already does. Just not as much.

But at night, when I am tucking him in to bed, and he gives me a sleepy smile and a kiss, I remember how much I love him. How he was my miracle baby, and the sweetest little toddler around. How he was my sanity and my constant companion after Edith was born. How I would do absolutely anything for him. And the slate is wiped clean. I love him perfectly again. At least until morning, when he sneaks downstairs to go on Minecraft, poops with the bathroom door open, hangs all over everybody, bosses everyone around, screams the walls down while talking to people who are sitting right next to him, and speaks to me (or Martin) like we are stupid.

Ah, the circle of love with an eight year old boy

A new job opportunity???

I've been at Beck Hill Motors for over two years now, and I love working here. Getting myself ready for work while getting the kids ready for school and juggling their school activities and childcare, not so much. But once I am here, it's such a great place to work. That being said, life marches on. The girl who works Saturdays, Laura, is finishing her degree this year, and has a full time job waiting for her. So Elaine (my delightful boss) needs someone to work Thursday through Saturday. I can't do that. Plus, I can't work during school holidays. So I will be finishing up here in June. Good bye, Beck Hill Motors :(

BUT...

Martin went to see a chiropractor on Tuesday (it's only taken me ten years to convince him to go) for his bad back, which is now turning into his bad neck, back and shoulders. While he was there, they mentioned that their massage therapist was leaving. Martin said, "Hey, my wife is a massage therapist. You should hire her." Then I came in as I was waiting in the car park with his lunch and wanted to see how long he would be, yada yada yada, long story short...I've got a job interview with them on Monday. I don't know any details yet, but it could be good. I am imagining all the free chiropractic care I can get. Mmmmm...

I'll keep you all posted.

Edith's shingles rash is nearly gone. She hasn't been too miserable with it. The scabs are starting to fall off now, and they are driving her a little bit crazy. But she checks her back every day and is pleased to see the improvement.

In Dylan news, he continues to be simultaneously brilliant and incapable of carrying out any common-sense task! But I do love that boy.

Do I have anything exciting to write about? Well, I bought an epilator for my hairy gorilla arms. And I had my roots touched up. That's pretty much it. Wow, I have a very dull life!

(last week's post, written but not published) Poor baby...

Edith had what looked like a few mosquito bites on her back last week. But over the weekend they bloomed into a nasty looking rash, so I took her to see the doctor on Monday. Turns out, she has shingles! And, sadly, it was too late for anti-virals to be effective. She's just had to tough it out. But she IS one tough cookie, and she's doing fine. She hasn't even missed any school, since the contagious stage was over and the rash is completely covered by her clothes. She's just been a bit whiny, but it's hard to say whether that's because of the virus or her personality. She's been a bit of a little madame lately.

Good week so far. Pattern shopping with the lovely Alice Whall (she's asked me to make her temple dress. Aww!), and a services swap with my friend Natasha. I gave her a massage, and she gave me a pedicure. Then yesterday was all about housework, with a 1.5 hour break for yoga. My front room and bathroom are gleaming. For now, anyway. I DO live with a bunch of nominally domesticated pigs, Lord love them. Anyway, yoga was amazing. And very tough on the ankles, as we did a lot of wide legged stances and balance poses. Yoga is my bliss!

Is lust still a sin...

...if you are lusting after your own husband?

Martin was playing basketball last night. Found a local team a few weeks ago, and he's been practicing with them on the odd Friday night when he hasn't been at work. They had a match in Grimsby last night, and we all rode in so that we could watch him play.

I am used to my husband being the skinny one on the field or court. But last night, as he ran around like a headless chicken playing very aggressive and handsy basketball, I realized that he's not any more. This joinery job of his has filled him out in a way that I find very appealing. He looks like a man now, instead of a boy. And I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I've noticed it before now, the extra muscle. But last night he was wearing a sleeveless b-ball jersey and was with a room full of other physically fit men. And he looked GOOD!

(Found this partially finished post and thought I'd throw it up here just for fun!)

Total slacker...

It's not that I've had nothing to write about, because I have! Just been lazy, I guess. Winter was long and overwhelming for me, and even with the help of antidepressants I found it very difficult just to do the bare minimum to keep the household ticking over. But the sun is shining, birds are singing, I (accidentally) came off the happy pills, and things are going well.

First things first, our time frame has shifted but we ARE still moving back to the U.S.(see above statement on my crappy winter). We'll keep everyone posted. Don't hold your breath, because, well, bureaucracy, but it is still happening FOR SURE! If we hadn't sold our house, I would be tempted to stay here forever. But he did, and so we aren't.

Dylan and Edith are basically the same, just a little older. Still doing great in school, still driving me crazy at home. The biggest changes are that Dylan is basically toothless and Edith is getting a little bit bratty. Time will march on!

Martin is still loving being a joiner. He is on short term contracts, but has yet to go more than three days without a job. He is in demand, and it is fantastic! Currently, he is working on a school refurbishment in Scunthorpe. He comes home filthy dirty, but he comes home at 4:30pm. And stays for the rest of the night! The novelty still hasn't worn off. I'm still thrilled to have my husband at home with me almost every single night. And he loves it, because he can go do sporty things and I don't freak out about him deserting me on his one night off. Everybody wins. He does still pick up the occasional shift at Winteringham Fields, as well. He still loves doing that, and a few times a month is nice for all of us.

I'm going to try to end this shameful blogging dry spell. Promise!

Did we leave it too late?

I was thinking in the shower today, as I am wont to do do, and I realized that moving to Utah could be a bigger wrench for Dylan than I'd initially thought it would be.

He is football mad now, in a way that he never was before. And he has all of his neighbourhood friends that he plays out with. He's established himself in school as one of the "brainy" ones. He is comfortable with his life as it is. And we are going to take him to the U.S., where Premiership football might as well not exist. His love of Match Attax cards will go unfulfilled and he will know loads about a sporting league that, for all intents and purposes, most people in Utah don't even know exists. He will have to make new friends, and learn new things to talk about and new ways of playing. Oh wow--what am I about to do to my son? Is he going to be ok?

We wanted to leave here 6 years ago. When he was three, a move wouldn't have been a big deal at all. But now, well, it's a very big deal. And though he is excited about it, it's little wonder that he is also anxious. He is constantly asking little "When we move to America" questions. Poor kid!

Does moving back to Utah make me the most selfish beast of a parent in the world?

A shift...

I have spent years being the most important person in the lives of my children. They love their dad, don't get me wrong. But he worked a lot, and I was on the front lines as the full time mother and housewife. They came to me for food, drinks, clothes, shoes, cuddles, you name it. And now I can feel that need changing. They are becoming more and more independent, and I am becoming a peripheral figure in their lives. Especially Dylan's, now that he is a very grown-up eight year old.

I never thought it would bother me. Truth be told, in many ways it doesn't. I love that they can do most things for themselves now. It's incredibly freeing! But it does make me slightly sad that I will never be the focal point in their little lives again. From here on out it will be friends, then girlfriends and boyfriends, then spouses, and then children (hopefully in that order!).

Life is kind of like the weather in England--if you don't like it, just wait five minutes.

A religious experience on the 350 Humber Fastcat bus to Hull

So I have done some things in my life that I am deeply ashamed of. That's not news to anybody who knows me well, but I just thought I'd throw it out there. Most of them were as a direct result of my rape at age 17, a fact which I realized during my therapy sessions to treat my PTSD (did you know I was officially diagnosed with it?).

I heard about this book, "The Body Keeps The Score," by Bessel van der Kolk, and it sounded right up my alley, so I asked my local library to get it in for me. They happily obliged for a reservation fee of £.75. It came in late last week, and it turns out that it is maybe the best £.75 I have ever spent.

This is a "smart book." No skimming allowed, because it is so densely packed with information that you have to read and comprehend every single word. But it is so profoundly interesting that you wouldn't want to skip anything, even if you could. It is all about the effects of trauma on the body, and it is fascinating.

I have spent the last week discovering why I did all of the things I did after my assault. Everything was basically a direct result of neurological functions. A way for my brain to process everything that had happened and get past it. And as I sat on the bus, reading this book, I had a moment of revelation. I realized that my actions in the face of the first rape, and in the years after it, were more than just mistakes. They were ways for my body and mind to try to heal themselves. And I knew, with every fiber of my being, that God does not judge me for the things I did then. In fact, God is proud of me for finding a way to get better, in the face of some pretty horrific things that had been done to me. I wasn't able to go to anyone else for help at that time, so I had to try and help myself. And, in a weird way, my actions seem to have been guided by God even though they were not necessarily "good." Because as I look at those early years, I realize that so many things I did are very nearly textbook examples of how to treat PTSD. And that could NOT be a happy accident. The odds are too high against it.

I needed therapy. It was the last step to help me in my recovery. But I was functioning before that. In a nearly normal way. And after the things that happened, I should not have been. I have no reason to be ashamed. I should be proud of myself, just like God is.

I sat and cried on that bus. Because for the first time in years, I felt truly clean.

Evolving

Ten years ago, we moved to England. We had been married for not quite four years. I was only 26 years old, and had no children and no responsibilities other than making sure I had a roof over my head and food to eat. Martin and I spent most of our time doing a whole lot of whatever we wanted to do. I had a flat stomach. Boy, how things have changed!

I took Dylan to his first ever football training session last Thursday. I took him there in my new-to-us Renault Scenic. It's a long chassis vehicle. Basically, a minivan that only seats five. It is totally a mommy car. I've never had one of those before. And though I love it, because we all have so much more space on long drives now, I also hate it. It's like I've finally given up on my youth and have resigned myself to parenthood and impending middle age.

But the kids have tray tables, just like on an airplane. And there is underfloor storage. And I can fit Edith's bike in the back seat!

Getting older really sucks. I know a lot of people are fine with it. But they are only fooling themselves. I don't think about it very often, but when I do I mourn the passing of my youth. Most of the time, I don't feel like I'm getting any older. But when I see how grown up my children are getting, or when I buy a soccer mom Scenic and LOVE it, I realize just how much things have changed in the past ten years. And though I love my life, and especially my children, it makes me sad. Because I don't deal well with change. Never have, never will. And, unfortunately, that's what life is all about.

Autumn always makes me slightly melancholy. Watching another growing cycle come to an end, and seeing mother nature shutting down for a long winter's rest. It always feels like the end of something, even though I know that life is cyclical in nature. It's as much a beginning as it is an end. But the days get shorter, the nights close in, and everything starts to die. And I start to think about ageing, and the inevitable changes that come with it.

I think I need to up my happy pill dosage.

Connections...

Most especially, the internet ones!

After three weeks of absolutely no home broadband, we are officially connected again. It feels like freedom!

So that was the highlight of the week, for the whole family. But it hasn't been a great week. Here's why:

Saturday, Dylan was allowed to "play out" (possibly the most useful British phrase since "How do you feel in yourself" and "I can't be bothered") with instructions to be home in half an hour. Nearly an hour later, when he still hadn't showed up at home, I went to collect him from one of the two places he was supposed to be. Imagine my surprise when I discovered he wasn't there!

I wandered the neighbourhood for the next half an hour, searching for my missing eight year old son. Had to leave poor Edith at home alone to do it, as well, in case he showed up at home whilst I was out searchng!

He wasn't in any of the usual spots, and I was nearly panicking when Edith called me to tell me he was home. I rushed back, and that kid got the spanking of his life, as well as properly shouted at for the first time ever. He was, in addition, grounded from all tech for a week, and grounded from playing out indefinitely. And when I told him all that and he was still being defiant and indifferent, I hit him where it REALLY hurts. I took away his Barcelona football kit. That drove the message home, obviously, since he sobbed for the next 30 minutes. And I can tell you one thing--that kid will NEVER do that again!

Sunday was the Primary Sacrament meeting presentation. It went well, with few mistakes and lots of brilliant moments. Mostly, I am just glad it's over. Not my favourite thing to do in the whole world!

Monday was when it all started to go a bit wrong. I drove to Scunthorpe to give Gill her weekly massage, but she was having one of her long (read 3-4 day) sleeps, so we decided to give it a miss. I did my weekly shop, grabbed some lunch, and headed for home. When I got back to Barton, I realised that my house key was locked inside the house. We have no spare key. So I had to drive over to our estate agent's office to borrow their copy. As I was rounding the corner to go to their office, the EPC light came on in the car and the engine died. I couldn't get it restarted, so had to call work to come and bail me out. Which they did. Which was awesome.

My lovely boss, Chris, gave me (and my groceries) a ride home. Then I found my own keys, returned the estate agent's keys, and was home just in time for the kids to get back from school. And Chris told me it was most likely the cambelt. Ouch! It will cost more than we paid for the car to get it fixed. Time to shop for a new-to-us car.

Tuesday was great, actually. I unpacked all of the boxes in the dining room, and it is looking really nice. That was also when the BT engineer came out and sorted our internet. It took 3 1/2 hours, but the man was tenacious, and got it fixed.

The rest of the week has just been, for lack of a better word, blah! I haven't felt this way for a long time, and really need something to pull me out of this funk. It totally sucks! The kids are going for a sleepover at their Auntie Cathy's house tonight, and they are super excited for that. Martin and I are going on a hot date, so maybe that will shake things up enough to snap me out of it. Oh, and we hope to buy a car tomorrow. That should help as well.

Internet

Basically, we still don't have it in our house. And yes, it is driving me crazy. But as the days go on with no connection, I miss it less and less. I have been spending more time reading and working, more time listening to music. I haven't been on Facebook every two hours and all of my social media activity has basically been limited to two days a week when I can use the WiFi at work, or when I happen to be driving past a McDonald's.

It's amazing, how quickly we come to take things like WiFi for granted. When I first moved away from home and went to college, I had to go to the school's library to type papers and send e-mails. I had no computer in my room, and I didn't even have my own phone line, let alone internet. AND, no mobile phones! How did I survive? Things have changed a lot in the past 15-16 years.

Now I feel really old!

Dylan has lost another tooth. And I know that hardly seems BLOG-worthy, but trust me, it's a big deal. He really doesn't like losing his teeth, and this one was a front tooth that was barely hanging on for almost 10 weeks. I had finally had enough of him looking like he had a chiclet held to his gums, being unable to speak properly, and eating out of the side of his mouth. I told him if it wasn't out by the following day I was taking him to the dentist to have it pulled. He got it out the next morning. And then, last night, Edith head butted him whilst they were playing and knocked out another one. What a champion!

Irony...

When Martin and I bought our house on Fleetgate, we spent the first few months trying to get rid of the wet dog and nicotine smell that pervaded the upstairs rooms. On Monday night, when we went to give the keys to the new owners, they were smoking and their dog was running around.

Hmm...

It is done. The money is in the bank. We are mortgage free. It still doesn't feel quite real, but once we start filling out paperwork, I'm sure it will. This is happening, and it is very exciting!

Every time I do something now, I think to myself that it could be the last time. Last Barton Carnival, last time at the Lincoln Christmas market, last bonfire night, last Primary presentation, etc. It's a strange feeling. We've been here for so long, and we are so happy and comfortable here. In fact, it occurred to me just yesterday that I have lived at 48 Fleetgate longer than I have ever lived anywhere in my whole life! Change is a good thing, but it is so terrifying!

One good thing came of the key exchange. They were painting their new house, and it got me all excited to buy a house in Utah when we move back. I love the fun of making a house a home. It's different with a rental, when you don't want to do too much to it since it's not yours (and because you'll only be living there for a few months). But it's great to start with a clean slate, choose colours, make changes, and do all that initial work that makes a place your own. We are planning on buying a fixer-upper and really going to town on it. I can hardly wait!

The kids are thriving at school, as per usual. They both love their new teachers, and are getting right back into the swing of things. I have started letting them walk to school on their own, and Dylan especially loves the independence it gives him. Edith isn't allowed to go on her own though, because she is a bit on the flighty side, so if Dylan has a club after school, I go and collect her. It's so nice to only have to get the kids ready in the morning and not worry about getting myself ready as well.

Martin is still loving the job. This career move has been brilliant for him so far. He's having to work weekends at the moment, as they are pushing hard to finish a job, but he still comes home from work happy and never has to go in after his scheduled hours. And he gets paid hourly, so a 50 hour work week is worth it!

So that's the update.

Well that was a weird six weeks...

School is back in session, I am back at work, and...

We sold our house!!!

Well, technically we haven't sold it yet. We are waiting on our solicitors, and theirs, to finish up the paperwork. But we have moved out of 48 Fleetgate and into a nice (albeit much smaller) house just a few streets down on Finkle Lane.

So here's what happened:

Sarah and Hannah loved the house, they made an offer, it was a bit low so we met them half way. They agreed, and we formally accepted their offer. Then a survey was done and we had to reduce the price as their mortgage company demanded a cash retainer from them because of some issues. Not a huge deal--the house IS really freaking old. Annoying, but they were fair about it. We agreed to a completion date, and started looking for a house to rent. We found a house, got that all squared away, then started packing for our move. I got chicken pox (that's right, BLOOMING CHICKEN POX) and didn't feel up to doing much packing. The Mundays came and helped. The Tillings came and helped. Noelle's husband Richard came and helped. The missionaries helped a bit, as well. My visiting teacher and mother-in-law helped me pack up the kitchen. The Mundays helped again, including feeding us dinner when we were too tired to move. Martin worked through it all, putting in 10 hour days on a building site and 5 hour nights moving house. The kids were annoying. My asthma flared up. We finally got all moved out on the seventh of September. The solicitors still haven't completed.

ARGH!!!

I am a bit of an emotional wreck/giant ball of stress. We are in the new house, but there is no storage there and we have a lot of stuff. Granted, I am planning on getting rid of a great deal of it. But for the time being, we are shuffling around it. That first night I crawled over the boxes into our bed and cried myself to sleep, miserable that we were in this tiny house while our beautiful old (HUGE) house stood empty just a few streets away. I love that house. So many happy memories were made there. And now that it's completely empty and clean, I can see just what a great house it really is. I can't stand messes, and the new place will be one for a while until we get some storage sorted out. It feels cramped and messy, and I just want to go home. But we are doing this, and it will be worth it in the long run.

Our plan is to stay in England until around June. Then we will move back to the U.S., find jobs, get settled, and have a little bit of a summer break before the kids start school. We are hoping to buy a house, something that we can fix up like we did here. We are making a decent profit on the sale over here, so it should work out pretty well.

So there you have it--our last six weeks. Pretty mental, huh? So much for relaxing days with plenty of bike rides and picnics and swimming. Instead it was non-stop stress and paralysis, and packing, and denial, and graft. Oh, and a few lie ins as well.

This is just the first step in our journey back to Utah, and while it is incredibly stressful, it is also what we've wanted for over 5 years now. We're excited!

News!

Not on the house, unfortunately, but almost as good. Martin has a job!!!

He starts on Monday and will be on a six month contract (through a temp agency) working at a school. Those are the only details I know (plus his hourly wage, but it would be uncouth to disclose that and I am all about being "couth"). I am super proud. He is nervous. We are both relieved.

Today is my last day of work until September, and Martin's first paycheck should come in just after my last one. Thank goodness!

Time to celebrate!

A second viewing...

The nicest little couple came to look at our house yesterday. One of them I have actually met before--she is a PCSO who works with Lewis. They have pets and hope to have children, and they loved our house. The size, the quirkiness, the enclosed garden, the lot.

They have scheduled a second viewing for tomorrow, and I am kind of nervous about it now. Not that they won't want the house, mind you. I've gotten used to that. I am slightly nervous that they WILL want the house, and that they will make an offer that we are happy with. Because even though the job situation isn't great right now, socially we are having a lot of fun!

Staying in England is looking a little bit appealing right now. We have great friends, a great ward, our kids are settled and thriving in school, and we are comfortable. To be honest, I have always had commitment issues. But when I DO commit, I find it very hard to let go. And I don't want everything to change. What if things get worse?

And yet, what if things get better?

Dad, do you remember that time you took us to the casino in Wendover to show us how gambling "never pays"? You put a dollar in a poker slot machine and won $20. Then you blushed and said, "That NEVER happens, girls." Well, good news. The lesson, though it didn't exactly go to plan, seriously stuck. I don't like to play the odds. Ever!

But for all that, if we DO sell the house in the next six weeks, I will be thrilled about it. I miss my family so much. All of you! It will just be terrifying to leap back into the unknown. I am getting too old for all this nonsense. Too old to start over again!

Ok, my angst filled rant is finished. I'm inventing problems that don't even exist yet. And really, my anxiety isn't that big of a problem. I can always just have my doctor up my dosage of Prozac and crack on. And even if we sold the house tomorrow, we would still have to wait at least six months before we could move. Deep, cleansing breaths. I need to do some yoga!

On another note, I had a girls' night out yesterday. It was weird. We all went out to a pub in Hull together whilst Martin stayed at home with the kids, and we had a GREAT time on our way there. We were belting out power ballads at the top of our lungs and headbanging to "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen. Then we got there, and ran into one of the girls' ex-boyfriend's new girlfriends. The one he cheated on her with. Also, the other girl I went with has recently decided to split up with her husband. So there was major drama all night long. Though I still had fun, I went home VERY grateful for my marriage to my wonderful husband. Seriously, how did I get so stinking lucky? Heaven knows I didn't deserve him when I met him, and most days I still don't. But he's still in love with me after all these years, and I am still crazy in love with him, too.

Tomorrow is my last day of work before the kids' summer holidays. It's going to be nice to have six weeks off with the kiddies. Martin has a couple of irons in the fire, so to speak, and he's still picking up barrow joinery jobs. I think we're all looking forward to warm days filled with bike rides, trips to the park to play football, swimming, picnics, and plenty of time at friends' houses. I know Martin and I are looking forward to not doing a school run every day! There is absolutely no dread this year for the long break. I know my kids, and I know they can entertain themselves. Well, Edith can, anyway. I am glad we'll have some time off together. We're all a bit burnt out right now, and it will be great to relax the routines and have a little fun.

I may not post for a bit though, since I hardly ever go on the computer at home and I can't post from my phone. I'll try though, and there will be plenty of pictures on Facebook and Instagram.

See, just typing about summer has made me relax and stop worrying about the possible move. Oh wait, now I am thinking about it again. Anxiety is back.

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala...

Simple gifts...

Yesterday I decided to try and focus on all the simple joys that abound in my life. So here they are. Or rather, here SOME of them are:

My warm bicycle seat.
The strength and stretch of my thigh muscles as I ride my bike home
The smell of the flowers on the corner of Marsh Lane and Catherine Street.
The flavour of raspberries, picked from my garden and eaten still warm from the sunlight.
The feel of my hair brushing against my back.
Standing on tip-toes to hang washing on the line.
The look and taste of cherry juice as we picked the fruit.
The gleam of ripe cherries, just waiting to be stoned.
Knowing that those cherries were 100% free!
The extra hug I got from my daughter when she came downstairs to say goodnight.
The soft cotton of my sheets and the weight of my duvet on a slightly cool night.
A good night's sleep.

It's good to have a body.

It's even better to enjoy it.

There was a time when I hated my body, and there was an even longer time when I intentionally dulled my senses. I am still struggling to regain some of the sensations that my body should feel, but I am grateful for the joy that my still strong senses help me experience.

Simple Gifts - Mormon Tabernacle Choir

The school reports are in...

It's official--Dylan has been listed as a "gifted and talented" student.

And Edith is doing really well, also. Her note from the head teacher called her a "lovely girl." That's true most of the time.

Parents' evening was Tuesday for us, and we had glowing reports from both of their teachers. They have been very impressed with my little darlings, and are very pleased with the academic progress they made.

Dylan's teacher, Mr. Corrigan, was most pleased with Dylan's prowess in Maths. He is already done with the level 4 test, and will be starting next year at the level he should achieve by the END of next year. He's always been good with numbers though--I remember him counting (and understanding the numbers) at the age of about 20 months. Obviously didn't get that from me, but I'm pleased he has the knack.

Mrs. Percy, Edith's teacher, praised her creativity and love of reading and writing. She has imagination coming out of her eyeballs, and can spin a story with great ease. She's not so great with focusing on things, but that's because she is so busy daydreaming. Once she is focused, she is wicked smart.

I keep having these perfect moments with my kids. I'm not counting on them lasting forever, because I know that they will get annoying and I will be short with them. But the first years were HARD! Now, there are times when we are out doing something as a family and I think to myself, "This is what I imagined having children would be like." And those moments are so glorious!

I had one last night, as a matter of fact. Martin was playing 5-a-side football with his friends and it was no-tech day. So after dinner, the kids and I went on a bike ride. We had no errands to run--we went purely for the fun of it. We rode down to water's edge, along the Humber bank, and through the park. Then, on the way home, we found a new cherry tree. So we stopped and picked and ate cherries for about 10 minutes, and had a stone spitting competition. Dylan is getting very good at spitting cherry pits! Then we rode home and the kids got ready for bed. We read scriptures together in my bedroom, then said prayers. Goodnight kisses all 'round, then they went up to bed. And I was so grateful for the blessing that my children are to me.

Motherhood has never set well with me. I don't know why. It makes me feel like less of a woman, to be honest. We are supposed to be loving and nurturing and all that jazz. That's just not me. But I feel like I'm coming to a place with my kids, now that they don't need such constant physical care, where I can be true to myself and still be a good parent to them. I guess I'm realizing that motherhood isn't one-size-fits-all, and though I can't be that caring, selfless, nurturing mom, I can still be a GOOD mom. Maybe even a great one, occasionally. After all, these kids are doing just fine.

Life plods on much the same as usual over here. Work is good, church is good, home is great. Even our social lives have picked up a bit. I've made a few new friends and picked up a few new massage clients, which is nice. Martin is still waiting for his certification papers from the college, so he can't get site work as a joiner yet. But he is picking up a few jobs here and there, and we are managing. Money continues to be a stressful issue, but not a debilitating one.

I'm at work now, and listening to the church clock chime 2pm. It's one of my favourite things about working here--the church bells chiming every quarter of an hour.

I know this will probably jinx it, but I feel weirdly content right now. Maybe it's the fluoxetine talking, but everything seems to be really good. I hope life can stay like this for a little while. Well, mostly like this, but with Martin working full time again.

Only two more weeks of school for the kids, then they will be on their six week summer holidays. Weirdly, I am really looking forward to it. I think they are, too.

Seriously, I think somebody is smoking pot outside my bedroom window at night. I am so mellow. Awesome!

Poor mom, no wonder you are freaking out!

I have been a blog slacker lately. I don't really have a good excuse, but I do have a very bad one. PINTEREST!

The internet is amazing. And a giant time suck!

Things are OK here in sunny old England (not joking, we actually HAVE had a few sunny days). Nothing major is really happening, which is why I haven't felt the need to blog. A few things have happened, though.

First and foremost, Martin has finished his college course. He is now the proud owner of a City and Guilds level two carpentry and joinery certificate. He also has his silly safety card that he needs in order to work. Now he is sending off resumes and such, in the hope of being gainfully employed ASAP. I'm confident. He actually got an e-mail from a company in New Zealand saying they desperately needed carpenters and pitching the concept of a "working holiday." I told him I'd be perfectly willing to go to NZ for a year--on our way back to the U.S., of course. It would be super fun!

In the meantime, though, Martin has been picking up small jobs here and there. He's loving the work, and the independence it affords him. It's just not quite enough for our family to scrape by on, so hopefully he will soon be suckling at the teat of a large corporation that pays him regularly and gives him steady employment. I'm so tired of being broke!

The kids are both doing well--winding their way toward the end of the school year in late July. They are a constant source of irritation and amusement. Oh, and love. We all went to Martin's 5-a-side football match last night, and Edith reminded me how much fun it is to roll around in the grass and just generally goof off. The kids remind me to enjoy the simple things in life, and I love them for that!

Dylan has started playing with kids from school a lot more, and we are giving him some independence in regards to walking or riding his bike to school on his own. He loves it! The days where he just wants to hang out with mom and dad are almost done, I think, and it feels like the end of an era. Edith won't be far behind him, and then we'll probably wish they wanted to just stay home with us. But we'll always have our Sundays and our Friday night movie nights. I'm glad of that!

We finished reading the Book of Mormon as a family last week. That was a pretty big deal. Now we've started over, and we look forward to reading it again. I'm thinking it may be time for everyone to read two verses every night instead of just one each. The kids are both excellent readers now. Dylan continues to exceed all expectations at school, and Edith is wicked smart as well, just totally dizzy!

I am doing ok. A bit blah, but just fine. I've been giving a lot of massages lately, which is good. Exhausting, but good. The cash for those used to be my "mad money," but lately it has been our grocery money. I still love giving massages, but it does take a lot out of you. I've re-injured my left elbow somehow, and I might need to go back in to the hospital to have another steroid injection into the joint. OUCH! But it works, and it needs doing. And because of the NHS it is free! I am also considering training in sports therapy massage in the fall. I think I would be good at it. And I know I would enjoy it. Especially since a lot of Martin's friends play football, we have a new(ish) friend who plays American football, I have a friend who runs, and Martin knows a lot of baseball people. Pretty rich potential client base! We'll see though.

Oh, and we are considering re-listing our house with a different estate agent. They cost more, but they are a lot more proactive about selling houses. We'll see how that pans out. They have suggested that we try to get legal permission for a parking space before we re-list, as it will potentially increase the value of our home by about £5,000. That's totally worth it, right? We're still trying to move over. Just not really succeeding at the minute.

But life is good. It's plodding on slowly, with very little excitement and drama. The days all blend together in a pleasant haze most of the time. If we do anything exciting, I'll be sure to update this space!

Now mom, get a new phone! PLEASE!

In my defense...

I usually blog during that weird down time I have at work, every afternoon from about 1:30pm to 3:30pm. The cars are all here, the parts are all ordered, and the mechanics are all cracking on with jobs. I get bored. I blog. But, obviously, I haven't been doing that lately.

I have, instead, devoted myself to a different worthy cause. I am researching Martin's family tree. At last, I am getting on board with that whole family history thing. And, surprisingly enough, I am really enjoying it. It's a bit addicting. Hence me never blogging any more.

But still, at least it's not heroin!