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Wednesday, 3 June 2009

My bottom is not big enough. I know this because I agreed to go on a bike ride with middle child and now there are parts of me that normal painkillers do not reach. My knee is also quite painful and at the moment officially stuffed. With the possibility of another operation I have agreed to go to lots of Physio - I am rather hoping they will not insist on a bike or the compression may continue.

Middle child is bike refreshed after his lovely mother getting him a new one. Technically speaking it isn't new as we hauled it out of a skip but he didn't have it before, I gave it to him and so to him - it is new and I am a very nice skip tramp. Nothing but the best and all that.

Why would anyone throw a perfectly fine Raleigh bike in a skip. Middle child rather pleased and not in the slightest bothered by its pink hue. This is good because even if he had been, he would still have got the same bike.

The evenings are becoming a little taxing as everyone wants to go out on bikes. Rather lovely but I have had to come up with time saving methods. my best yet is to attach a slightly insane Weimeraner to the handlebars via a lead. It works a treat, she goes like the clappers, I don't have to peddle and when she suddenly bolts after a rabbit - it is quite an excilerating experience.

'It' has still failed to pay last months mortgage. Several emails, several texts and still a bounced payment. Expected but a little alarming as there has not been a full payment since he marched. I may start looking at tents on EBay.

Further alarming moments include children coming home very excited by the 18 rated film they got to see. The small one, apparently asleep on the sofa declared with glee that he had seen army men that were blown to bits. A conversation ensued with 'It'.

'It was fine, it was on in the day'

"Yes, but it was only on in the day because you recorded it from the night before"

"Fine, I won't let them record anything again" he says

It is becoming more clear that we are in fact, existing on different planets. I may as well give up AA Milne and read them the David Van Thal Horror stories. I would ask who on earth would want their children watching 18 rated movies but alas, I know the answer. I think my idea of an Enid Blyton childhood is now being pick axed.

So having decided that this was not an issue I could side step, I said my piece and left it. Until that is, a parent at school advised me the next morning that they had come across the little ones in the park whilst 'It' was in deep slumber. The hubby was all for marching up and saying something. How I wished he had because everything I say is taken with yet another dose of hatred. Clearly having two very young children playing with a kite, with an open gate onto the road would not make a great advert for parental health and safety and the problem with acrimonious separation is that you are unlikely to call and say

'You know you did a great job the other day, the children came back in one piece'

The teenager is surviving his GCSE's well. Very exhausted today as he had 4 exams, including an AS all in one day. I am not convinced that having 4 minutes between a 2 hour exam is guaranteed to get the best but we shall have to see. I once told him that you should find a way of relaxing, he found his by simply not revising. It seems to work well, at one point I was suffering from parental stress transference disorder but i too gave up. There was simply no point.

Yesterday the teenager, my half child (He is not but is part of the furniture and so named) and I, went for a picnic by the river in BoA following yet another GCSE. It is moments like this that I feel very lucky. For two towering teenagers to be willing to sit and picnic with Mummy is a real achievement. At this age, I would have rather chewed toe nails than go sit in a park with my parents. It was lovely and I know that the box of cakes had nothing to do with it

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