Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

This year.  This year has been... dramatic. I've had a cancer scare, with biopsies and a procedure to remove the face of my cervix.  I've had huge issues with Dude's development and behaviour as a (let's face it) ADHD boy child.  We're still on the wait list for his assessment, hoping to hear something next month.  I've had mum guilt over whether Madam is getting enough attention having to share me with Dude and his chaos.  I've had wife guilt over the state of the house and our lives in general.  I've had a change of ADHD medication which involved going cold turkey from my old meds, and added to that I've had to stop my antidepressants at the same time to start the new meds because the combination can cause serotonin syndrome (palpitations, sweats, anxiety, shakes).  The second week on the new meds I got the flu.  Last Monday I was stopped at a red light after dropping the kids off from school and got hit from behind by a car going 30mph. ...

We had our first brush with Big Brother this week. I should have seen it coming, really.  The amount of craziness that stems from Dude really should have prepared me for it.  I mean, he's been in enough trouble at school that I've been dealing with the Head since he was in reception.  When he was four.  Four. Still, getting the phone call from the school to let me know he'd triggered a safeguarding warning caught me off guard.  For those of you who have the luxury of not knowing what that means, he said something at school that raised concerns regarding his safety or wellbeing either in the school environment or the home environment. It wasn't at school. The call came at the end of a truly hideous week, on the heels of a pretty rough start to the school year in general.  Dude had caused a building lockdown on Monday by leaving the classroom without telling anyone, and then hiding.  Hiding.  Four members of staff, including the Head, had to...

It’s been a while since my last post.  It’s for many reasons, let’s just say “life”. The bratlets are changing at a rate of crazy.  Dude is getting sincerely entertaining with his weirdness, little dances with shooting fingers as he exits a room backwards, things like that.  Madam has developed a wide streak of sarcasm, which warms the cockles of my salty little heart.  They’re the same size now, which confuses Himself no end as he can’t tell which clothes belong to which kid.  I regularly get asked about my twins. Speaking of Himself, the man is only getting better with age.  He’s back at karate (and yes, it’s sexy as hell) as Dude wanted to give it a go, and I’m currently typing from the hall as all three of my little family punch at the air.  That’s right, after months of seeing the boys head off to karate, Madam is trying out her first lesson as we speak. As far as myself, I’ve had a hard time lately.  I had a bit of a cancer scare...

This afternoon, my freshly seven year old daughter came out of class upset.  This is extremely rare, so I immediately waded in to find out what the problem was.  She says to me that some of her classmates went into her tray (at her desk) and had taken her erasers without asking. Now, we had talked about these erasers before they went into school.  They were a birthday gift, in a little storage bag, and I'd suggested she leave them at home.  She insisted they'd be okay, she wanted to use them at school, so I capitulated. In that moment, I was fully on her side.  Having your possessions taken isn't okay at any age, and I had her back.  She pointed out a girl that was still in the playground and said she was one of the culprits, so I walked over with Madam to retrieve her property. At this point, she changes her story.  The girl in question, who has already handed the eraser back, had been given that one as a gift.  It was another girl that had...

So, this week I had my first brush with xenophobia.  Being an American in the UK, of course I've heard the jokes, been called "the Yank", been asked ridiculous questions about what Texas is like, but I'd never run into a genuinely hateful attitude about my heritage. White privilege?  Of course.  I had a conversation about it with someone I work with, he has it so regularly as to be able to recount a story from literally two weeks ago.  I feel a little silly even talking about it in terms of racism, as the rest of the behaviour aimed at me by this particular individual was so much more serious.  It's just... that part really shook me. We've been so happy with our neighbourhood since we moved here seven years ago.  The neighbours to one side are so lovely, never a problem, they're family now.  Other people in the street are friendly, say hello and stop for a chat if we pass each other.  When we get a new family, I go over and introduce myself, e...

So, this morning both kids were up at half five.  This in itself isn't exactly noteworthy, as it's happened frequently enough in the past that we're pretty used to it.  What is worth noting is that this morning, apparently I lost my ever-loving mind. The kids were both dressed, provided with breakfast, and playing nicely together (for a change), so I decided in my ill-timed optimistic state of mind that I'd pop upstairs and get started on one of the myriad jobs I'd set for my morning sans bratlets.  I got stuck in sorting through bits in the bedroom, feeling massively productive and accomplished.  This should have been my first red flag. The occasional shriek from downstairs notwithstanding, I motored through the sorting and made quite a dent in the chaos.  I ruthlessly tossed out stuff that had been hanging around in the bedroom for goodness knows how long.  I cleaned surfaces, chased dust and cobwebs, put things in their rightful places. That's when...

It's been a while.  Like a year and a half while.  I know, believe me, I know. Mostly, it's been a case of.. well, a case of this. The Dervish.  The Whirlwind.  The Destructor. The Dude. From emptying any container of any liquid he finds on any available surface to attempting to drop a deuce on the playground in Black Park, the kid keeps me on my toes.  He's not done any permanent damage (yet), so I guess I should count my blessings. The She Beast, you know, this one... ... she's doing remarkably well, considering.  There's still high drama should She be crossed, but school is going swimmingly and she's growing up at a terrifying rate. Himself is still kicking as well, working his usual magic for the companies in whose financial pies he waggles his fingers.  Plus, he's becoming quite the silver fox, so bonus points for yours truly. My life is about par for the course.  Hands full with bratlets, serving as paren...