Forgiveness

2016. The year the world broke or that’s what the media would have you believe. So many of our legendary musicians, actors and heroes disappeared from our planet. It pains me to think that they will not be around to make more music or films or write books. The thing is we are getting to an age that the people we idolised in our childhoods are starting to get old. Yes, some died too young and it doesn’t seem fair but excessive lifestyles and genetics demand we all be taken at different ages. It is unfortunately part of the process. However…if any of you have discovered a way of becoming immortal then drop me a line!

My own personal 2016 saw pain, I felt a bit like Supergirl when she was banished to the Phantom Zone, all my powers were gone and the mud was so sticky, there was a possibility that I wouldn’t get out alive. Luckily, I have strong women in my life like my mum and best friends that have shown me that just like Supergirl, you NEVER GIVE UP!

At the start of my turmoil a friend wrote to me, she said “Go to the ocean, pick up stones and name each one with an emotion. Throw away the ones you do not wish to have anymore, throw them far, as far as possible and let the water wash them away”. So I went and I threw and I threw. I threw so hard and for so long until the sinew twisted and burned, I threw until I could not even pick up another stone. One stone that I named forgiveness stayed by my side. I could choose to throw that stone away and get on with my life holding a little black hole of hate. See the problem is, forgiveness is the heaviest of stones. You know that if you choose to forgive, it will feel beautiful like a sneeze. But sometimes that sneeze just won’t come and you do everything to try and get there. You look into every light, grasping at every tingle, hoping. Then without any warning the euphoric snot flies all over. I’m not saying that my snot is flying yet, but it could happen any day. Until then, my stone of forgiveness will stay by my side and one day I’ll be ready to hand it gracefully to my former ally.

Quirk or Crazy!

Jacob always laughs at me and my craziness when it comes to my annoyance with certain words and phrases. I really do have to fight the urge not to punch someone in the face when they utter words I deem annoying. Jacob manages to work them into a conversation, and laughs, thinking he is super funny. Yip. Haha. Super. Super, funny dear husband!

Since he has been on tour, he has managed to work them into our whatsapp conversations. Even with 5,437 miles between us (yes, I googled that distance!) I am readying that hot poker.

I may regret announcing these words, as I know that most people I am close to really like to piss me off. Quirk or crazy? who knows. But it is surely entertaining to some folk. These “friends” will take great pleasure in saying them everytime we talk, meet or text.

Don’t judge me, just know, I may need help. I guess Los Angeles is a great place to be when in need of a good therapist.

Here are a few examples:

Touch base…’I’ll touch base with you later’. Really? Can you not just call me!

Espresso…when it is pronounced expresso…ugh, seriously people!

Douchebag…Why is someone a Vagina wash?

Buffer…’We have a buffer of cash, just in case’. Okay, I have no idea why this makes me want to put forks in people’s eyes. IT JUST DOES!

I think four is enough to begin with. I do also realise that I am slightly insane. I may end up a lonely little cat lady. I really can’t be the only one with these idiosyncracies. Ahh, the word idiosyncracy is making my eye twitch!

Jacob, come home and save me from myself!

De-loused

I’ve basically been neglecting this blog and any social networking for the past five weeks – my mum has been visiting. She is such a lovely lady and always comes to my rescue when Jacob is on tour. This time though, it was a five week visit. No quick train ride down to London from Fife anymore. Nope, a long 11 hours on a plane is needed. Mum, doesn’t like flying. So I appreciate that she has had to man up and get her ass on a plane just for me to get a hair cut and join a Pilates class…Thanks mum!

So, since I last picked up the laptop there has been an epidemic at school. One that, judging by the reaction of parents – it was as bad as Ebola outbreak. The dreaded infestation of lice.

One morning at drop off, I walked up to a group of mums looking highly freaked out.

“Everything okay?” I said. I got these replies….

“There’s lice in the class”

“Seven Children”

“Oh, no. What will we do?”

Being a sarcastic arse, I burst out laughing and said “oh, yeah, eeeek, nits. Whatever will we do. Call the Doctor!”

So I really thought their reactions were a joke. Turns out, it was not a joke and in fact they are crazy mofos about a wee scabby nit. I heard one mother shrieking  “oh, my gosh. It’s so unsanitary” While another spoke of their first ‘traumatizing’ experience with lice when their child was younger.

One lovely mum, removed anything and everything made of material from the class room to boil wash it. But there was a long stare and conversation about the carpet. What was to be done about it?

Nits to me, is a normal childhood problem. They are more of an annoyance than anything. If you treat them naturally, it takes forever and who wants to go around their whole family with that little nit comb hearing the screams of pain as you scrape it across each scalp in turn. But if you take the chemical route, well, you’re putting chemicals on your kid.

Some inventive people have found a great way to make some cash out of these freaked out parents. Salons with names like ‘The Magic Nit Pick’ and ‘Hairwizards’ are dotted around. Where people drive to with the whole family and pay $100 per person to get De-Loused. De-Loused at the Combatorium if you will. Yeah, yeah, I know I added a B for all those Mars Volta fans. Nearly bald fathers, sitting in chairs while the nit nurse is hysterically laughing, riding that gravy train.

I’m not really sure what to think of peoples’ reaction to these nasty nits. Am I too relaxed about it? Are they too uptight? Will I feel differently when I have to deal with them? Summer has the longest hair so I’m sure one day they will catch on. Lets hope I’m still that sarcastic cow when it does happen or that’ll be $500 out the window for all us Quists.

Just (do it to yourself)

Today I decided after weeks of debating to cut Phoenix’s hair.

Summer was off sick from school. Jacob went foraging at Ralph’s for the items on a list that I had handed him. Popcorn, sweeties, cheese. All the things I needed for a day stuck in the apartment with three kids. As it hit mid-afternoon everyone was getting a little tired. The paper volcano Summer and I had been making for science week was not entertaining anymore.

So this was it, the moment I had been waiting for. I powered up the Wii, clicked on youtube and picked a film that we had not watched before.

I don’t know why, but with every task I need to do, my brain doesn’t seem to realise up until launch moment that I do not have the correct tools to do the job. Yesterday I was stood on a chair with a curtain pole, screws and a spirit level before it clicked that I don’t have my electric screwdriver. It’s in the frickin shipping container.

Today was no different. Phoenix was in position, which with our lack of, well… anything, meant him sitting on the kids table and I just ran around him like the hunchback of notre dame. I had scissors at the ready but no comb. I have a comb. I’ve always had a comb…oh, no comb…with a little quick thinking I remembered that deep within a toiletries bag was a nit comb. So this became my hair cutting comb (not recommended).

As those first few strands fell to the floor I start singing Radiohead’s Just (do it to yourself) in my head. I realised why I shouldn’t cut my kids’ hair. A realisation I have every time but being a thrifty Scot it goes against my instinct to spend cash on kids haircuts. Phoenix’s head was swinging around everywhere, picture the exorcist scene but with me trying to clamp his head in place. The scissors were cutting up anything they could find, I was basically gouging out hollows in his hair which meant it was getting shorter and shorter.

All the while Silver was scraping chairs across the floor to sit next to me, declaring it was her turn. I managed to finish the hair cut with only one huge tantrum from Phoenix. He walked away half cut (haha). Telling me that he was itchy and wanted a bath. “NOW”. I coaxed him back onto the table and he underwent the last of the ‘do’ with promise of sweeties and a bath overflowing with bubbles.

The film ended before the haircut.

We kept our eyes locked on each other as I fumbled with the wii controller. Me wondering if he was going to stay sitting on his arse. Him wondering if he could make a run for it. I won! Go me!

So with a new program on I finish up. Rather happy with the result as long as I don’t turn the light up too high… bloody brilliant.

After the bath it still looked pretty good.

Wonder what Jacob will say when he gets in….

Sunday, Sunday.

Yesterday was one of those challenging days, the kind where you think you have things under control but actually…nope. All manner of shit is waiting. We’ve had a long day from getting up oh so early. Saying goodbye to Jacob who is away to London for a few days. Then going to the neighbour’s house who have three kids the same age. Also shopping and Laundry. Pretty much a normal Sunday. I left the kids in the living room while I made a start cooking dinner. The normal shouting started, Phoenix was annoying Summer, Phoenix was annoying Silver, Silver was sitting too near Phoenix, yadda yadda yadda. I would walk through every so often to calm the whatever situation was going on. I then found Phoenix with a pair of kids scissors, cutting Silvers hair. she was quite happily sitting there, shouting ‘hair, hair’.

As I type this, I have just pulled another small clump of hair from the sofa. I wonder if she would have been bald if I had left them any longer. I think I may have to hide the scissors from now on. Actually how do children scissors cut hair? Surely this should be one of the requirements for kids scissors – ‘does not cut hair’. I mean, they can hardly cut paper but hair, totally easy!

We moved onto the normal bedtime routine once we finished dinner. The kids have a special routine reserved for me. Jacob gets away scot free, reads a book, kisses them, then walks out the room. I however get the full pantomime. Jumping up and down, screaming, clothes being pulled off, nappies being thrown around. All the while I’m ready to snap, blood is boiling, veins pumping. What will be my next move? I’ve already taken away two of the three bedtime books and made some threats about taking sleepy toys away. I actually don’t have a next move, I’m not going to get them up to put them on the naughty step. These kids have totally trumped me. Oh what would super-nanny do? Why didn’t I pay more attention to those programs?

What I wouldn’t give to be my husband right now. An eleven hour flight with no one climbing on my head, screaming in my ears, or pulling my hair. You wait for so long to hear that magic word – “mummy”. But then they get to 3 and you wish they had only learned to say “daddy”. Over and over and over.

‘Mummy, can you open this box?’

‘Mummy, I’m thirsty’

‘Mummy, I want a snail as a pet’

‘Mummy, I’ve had a poo, and I’m finished’

‘Daddy…oh, I mean Mummy’