Day 23.

Blah!  I'm not catching up very well with the hubs.  Only 7 days, left, and I think I've got 12 hubs to write. It's a tall order, but I think I can do it.  I do think so.  We'll see.  Wish me luck.  I've got lots of hubs titles waiting to be expanded on - it's just finding the time to get on and write them.

I didn't get to finish the two I've been working on today.  My mummy came to visit, and stayed for most of the evening.  It was very nice indeed, because mostly we talked about writing (my mummy is a poet, a very good one), and about the costumes we're going to make for the Jane Austen Festival next year.  Loveliness.  But now I am too tired to do anything except go to bed and read half a page of my book (Lords and Ladies, Terry Pratchett).

I've got lots to choose from for my next read.  I don't know what to go for.  I don't have the next Terry Pratchett novel, so I'll have to wait until I can get that.  Shall I go for Stephen Fry's Moab is my Washpot, or Brandon Mull's Fablehaven, or Cornelia Funk's Inkheart.  Oh no!  I'd forgotten - I've got to read Northanger Abbey because my mum is about to read it, and we thought we should probably read all of the Austen novels that we haven't read before we go to the festival.   Decided.  Lovely.  I will enjoy a bit of Austen, and then I might read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which I said I would read months ago but forgot about!  Good.

Night then.

Babies!

There are some babies around at the moment. It's a time I've come to dread, as I know I'll get broody and I know I'll want to have a couple more of my own! But I'm not having any more. Nope. That's it. My three perfect boys are all I need, and I am more than happy with them - they're more wonderful and beautiful than I would ever have imagined if I'd ever imagined what my babies would be like. To have any more would be just greedy and selfish. Although it would be great :) And the boys would love to have another little sibling, a girl or a boy, they wouldn't mind which. Four boys would be so cool, even more fun. But girls are lovely too.

Oh my goodness, look at that - I started to talk myself into having another baby. Ridiculous woman! I should be ashamed of myself!

Well, I am going to visit my friend Catherine, and her husband Phil, and their brand new baby, Poppy Beatrice at the weekend. It's very strange seeing your friends become parents. It's sad for me, because I was one of the first of my group of friends to have my babies, and I'd had three before most had had one, so they're still at the beginning of all the baby stuff, and I'm at the end already. Matthew really isn't a baby anymore, and I'm getting empty-nest syndrome already! Of course, that's completely stupid, because none of the boys are leaving or going anywhere away from me for many more years, lol. I still see plenty of Thomas - see him for several hours every day, get plenty of time to chat with him, to do homework with him, to have fun with him. And it will be the same when James is at school full time next week, and it will be the same when Matthew starts school in two years' time. Just won't have anyone at home with me every day anymore - that's the horrible bit. This is all going to be over soon - this way of life that I've got so used to over the past seven years. But I know how lucky I am to have been able to have these years at home - I won't be wallowing in misery about it all, don't worry. I know that would be very dull to read about. And I'll be fine anyway - I'll be busy, with getting on with my own stuff, whether that will be writing or midwifing (or both) or whatever.

But Noomski and Jessica might have a baby next year - that'll be great :) I'll get to spend lots of time with that little niece or nephew, and will be able to spoil it because it won't be mine, ha ha!

I have to go to sleep now. It's only 10pm, but I seem to be a little bit elderly at the moment, and am needing about 27 hours sleep each day. Hmm. Annoying.

Ugh, sorry for another negative post. I'm actually not feeling negative today, I'm actually feeling very positive and motivated and all that - writing's still going well. Homework with Thomas has been fantastic - he read seven pages of his first reading book from Year 3 tonight, and he learnt his 10-times-table. All is very good :) Very happy :) Hope you are all very happy too, anonymous readers, whoever you are!

Snip

That should be fine now. I've done it. I've had this fine, fine figurative length of imperceptible scart-type cable* (or perhaps a HDMI**, or possibly USB***, or maybe even more of a Bluetooth**** sort of scenario) connecting my brain and my computer for the past few weeks. The connection is made without my awareness from time to time, quite possibly in a Matrix type of way. I think some race of being with superior intelligence is trying to get me to be on the computer as much as possible, and keeps plugging me in and making me addicted to applications such as Facecloth and *gasp*, Blogger! Perhaps they feed on my brain waves when I'm in the catatonic state that I slide into when the MacBook hums into life.

*SCART (from Syndicat des Constructeurs d'Appareils Radiorécepteurs et Téléviseurs, Radio and Television Receiver Manufacturers' Association) is a French-originated standard and associated 21-pin connector for connecting audio-visual (AV) equipment together

**HDMI (High-Definition Multimedia Interface) is a compact audio/video interface for transmitting uncompressed digital data.

***Universal Serial Bus (USB) is a specification^[1] to establish communication between devices and a host controller (usually personal computers), developed and invented by Ajay Bhatt while working for Intel.

****Bluetooth is an open wireless technology standard for exchanging data over short distances (using short length radio waves) from fixed and mobile devices, creating personal area networks (PANs) with high levels of security.

Anywaaaaaaay...

I'd noticed that I'd been using any feeble excuse, lately, to stick children's telly on and plonk my little 'uns in front of it, just so's I could play on the computer all day. Really, there was no sense in it at all - sitting around, waiting for people to respond to my comments on Facecloth, browsing on various Spend-Money-On-Stuff-You-Don't-Need websites when none of my friends seemed to be online, checking my email every few minutes even though I wasn't expecting any messages. Very silly waste of time. And what the hell was I thinking? My James is now in his last few weeks of being-at-home, and he will be at school very soon. And I was sitting on the computer ignoring him? I could have been spending this time with him, just doing anything we wanted to do, anything at all, not even preparing him for school, just enjoying his company. It's not surprising that he's been so grumpy lately, is it?! Rotten mother I've been.

So, I've done it. And I feel very good, released you might say. Are you wondering what it is that I've done? Is it annoying you that I haven't got to the point yet? Ha! Well, I've done it, as I said. I've cut the tie that has been binding me to the computer. Got a figurative pair of very sharp and very pointy dressmaking scissors (they're always very sharp are dressmaking scissors - they have to be to cut through wriggly fabric), and snipped right through that two-way connection with my beautiful MacBook. I've placated it with a promise to check in with it every evening, and it's agreed to leave me alone during the day. I'm pleased.

I've done this for the sake of all of my boys, not just James, because it's the summer holidays the day after tomorrow, and none of us are going to have a very nice time if I'm constantly thinking about what I could be doing if I didn't have them with me. And I know what I'm like - I can't allow myself five minutes on the computer during the day, because it won't be five minutes, it'll end up being an hour, and then two, and so on... And it's even more important that I don't pick up a book while I'm with the kids - a book for me (my very favourite pastime) equates to a day of dullness for the boys. I become a zombie when I'm reading and they have to shout 'Muuuummmmmmaaaaaaayyyy' right in my face to get my attention, and then they get shouted at for interrupting me, and then they get shouted at for whatever mess they've made while I've been in my literary trance. See, I can be a rubbish mother at times.

This is the biggest bit of preparation I needed for the holidays: putting myself in the right frame of mind for being with Thomas, James and Matthew for the whole of the day, every day. So that's what it is that I've done really. What we actually do together isn't so important, because even if I don't stick to my list of things-to-do-and-places-to-go, it doesn't matter as the boys will have my attention for pretty much the whole holiday. That's the most important thing. Now I'm looking forward to chatting with them, talking complete nonsense, doing some tickling, playing with light-sabres, building with Lego, getting waterproofs on and splashing in puddles (there might well be a lot of that!), possibly some baking, lots of drawing and colouring and painting, maybe a little clay-modelling, definitely some dancing to Chris Evans's expertly spun tunes in the morning, and hopefully some general outdoorsy walking and stuff when the weather gets better. We're going to have a good time, it's all in my hands :)

Plus, an extra special bonus prize - we get Kev back, when this hated overtime finishes!! Yay!

Addendum:

Oh, I almost forgot, Jessica (Noomski's fiance) asked me to write this on my blog (to be read in a Geordie accent):

'Terry is so lucky to have this fantastic woman in his life. Not only does she have beauty, but she has wit and charm on her side, along with the talent of playing a good game of pool,' by Jessica.

Books

So, I've just bought 'Pride and Prejudice and Zombies'. I don't really know what it's going to be like - except that it will have zombies in it - or if I will like it at all. I've a funny feeling that I've just paid a lot of money for a daft book that looks incredible, all faux-leather bound, but that I will hate. I am a terrible phoney when it comes to reading. You know when you write a profile of yourself? We all have to write profiles these days don't we, for Spacebook and MyFace and all these things? And it asks you what your hobbies are, doesn't it? Well, I always put the usual things that sound very dull and unsociable - reading, writing, walking, thinking, blah, blah, blah... And then it asks you what books are your favourites, and that's when I start to be revealed as a right fraud. I put my usual favourites of Lord of the Rings (everyone has to put that, so that they look intelligent), His Dark Materials, The Art of Happiness; and then the ones that I don't really want to put because society says that I must be embarrassed by them, but I have to put something, so I put Harry Potter, Anne of Green Gables, Twilight!!! And that's when I'm exposed. I'm NOT a great reader, and just like Elizabeth Bennett, I don't deserve such praise (see I've put that there to impress you with my knowledge of literary characters, when everyone knows everything there is to know about Pride and Prejudice - without zombies - because we all did it for GCSE or O Level! Fraud!)

There are quite a lot of people who are great readers (or they say they are - how am I to know if they are telling the truth, when I haven't read any of the Great Books they've read, so I can't ask them questions to try to catch them out!), and usually I've never heard of more than a quarter of the authors and books they mention. I'm ashamed. How can a person be a published author if they haven't read any of the Great Books of our time? I don't even know what the Great Books of our time are! It's not right is it, and it shouldn't be allowed really. I should put more of an effort in, to read good, high-moral-fibre-providing literature. I'll start as soon as I've read the zombie book.

I would dearly love to be a great reader, but I get too obsessed with the trashy stuff. You know the stuff that's designed specifically to suck us in and maintain a firm stranglehold, and make us buy Merchandise? Well, I'm intelligent enough to know that that's what it's written for, but I allow it to take hold of me anyway. *Sigh, at own stupidity* I hardly ever read anything that's obscure, that no-one has really heard of, that is gritty and thought-provoking. I did try Neil Gaiman's American Gods, but got about fifty pages in and realised that I was mind-numbingly bored. I have to assume that since the book was written by someone marvellously talented and brainy, that the fault is with me for being a rubbish reader, and for not being clever enough to care about the characters in Gaiman's story. I preferred Stardust, because it was fun! I like my literature to be fun, if at all possible. And if it's not possible for it to have great dollops of chucklingness, then it at least needs to have some real magic in it. I like Fantasy very much - haven't really tried Science Fiction, but I will at some point. I've always assumed that I'm not clever enough to understand SF, but I've learned lots about science in the past few years, so maybe I could keep up now.

I might possibly be being a little hard on myself actually. Let me look at what I've read this year. I have read a fictional account of the last years of the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. I've read Twilight, twice - ahem, moving swiftly on *blushes horribly, as impure thoughts of Edward Cullen try to invade her mind, again*. I've read The Books of Pellinor by Alison Croggon - stonkingly beautiful fantastical story, lots of magic, very good. I've read almost a whole encyclopaedia of spirits - that was an enormous book; learned a lot about faeries and things. Oh, and I read a few of Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels - they're always very, very enjoyable. I read Small Gods - that's my signed copy of Small Gods, yes. Signed by the author, not just by anyone! Yes. Terry Pratchett, yes, I met him. He is the only famous person I have ever met, and not at all a celebrity to be ashamed of :) (Oh, no he isn't the only one, I met the guy with the massive hair out of Toploader whose name I can't remember, but who was incredibly good-looking!)

At the moment I am reading a book called A Fraction of the Whole, a novel by Steven Toltz. I can't really describe it in any way that will do it justice, but it's a funny story about a man, his dad, and his dad's brother. That's all I can tell you really. You'll have to read it - I'm sure my description of it has you completely intrigued!! (Now you can see why I will never be paid to write book reviews!) It's an excellent book, and not like anything I've ever read before - but strangely, it is like something I'm writing. That's quite bizarre because the thing I am writing was started months before I'd even heard of Toltz's book.

Well, I think I have proven, with these witterings today, that I am definitely NOT a great reader. I read a lot of books, but I fall so desperately in love with so many of them that I have to spend a lot of time re-reading books that I've already read more than once. This is a problem, because it means I never get around to reading that biography on Marx that my dad bought for me a few years ago, or that copy of Catch 22 that I got for £2 from HMV in 1999, or that collection of essays on the Elizabethan underworld that I bought from a charity shop when I was sixteen. I really should take my reading more seriously.

So, I will now go and get on with Mr Toltz's book - this is a book I'm not ashamed to be reading, because it was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize for 2008. Oh yes, it's THAT good. When I've finished it I absolutely will not read Twilight or Harry Potter again, definitely not. At least not this year. Maybe next year. If I've been good and have read several books that are very high-brow indeed. Maybe.

Good to be back

:) It's always nice to feel healthy again, after I've been struck down by my Evil Stomach. I've not blogged for days, because I've really not felt like it. My Day Off on Saturday was ruined by my Evil Stomach. I'm going to get my Evil Stomach sorted out. I believe that I have an ulcer; my doctor is not taking me seriously though. He thinks I have indigestion, and that I should just do a massive burp! Hmmm - if he saw how much pain I'm in with this 'indigestion' he would know that it is an ulcer. I know it is an ulcer, and I am not a doctor, so I don't know why he's not listening to me properly. I get the feeling he thinks I'm being hypochondriacal about it! So, I'm sacking him off and going to see a different doctor. I love my own doctor dearly - he is excellent, usually. But I feel it's time for a second opinion. I don't want to put up with this awful pain any longer.

But there's always a positive side to pain of course, we all know that - that when you come out the other side of it the world looks fresh and beautiful, and you're just glad to be alive! I'm glad to be alive this week, and it's perhaps a blessing that I did have the Evil Stomach at the weekend, because I've been doing good in the mothering sense this week :) I've been lovely to my kids, been patient (mostly, mmm), have spent plenty of time with them, and still have ideas for things to do for the rest of the week. Completely different to the Easter holidays. It's a shame we've only got this week off, and not next week as well. But then, it's not very long until the Summer holidays is it?

What a rambling post this is! Sorry.

What I was thinking about before I was ill, was whether I'm mentally healthy. Yes, that's what I was thinking about. I'm not depressed, I don't mean that. But I noticed that I really spend all of my spare time in non-reality. All of my own-time activities involve going somewhere else in my head. I read fiction and fantasy, about worlds that don't really exist, except in the minds of their authors. I read about the past, about events and people that were real, but that are not real now. I write, about people and places that are not real, that I have to go right into my own head to find. And I watch films - almost always completely made up! Can that be healthy? Anne (of Green Gables) was always getting told off for having her head buried in a book. I don't ever get told off for it - because I'm 33, who would tell me off?! - but am I wasting my time? We've only got one life, and it struck me that I might be squandering it on day dreams. Is it more important to be doing real things? If it is, then what should I be doing? The trouble is, when you've got kids asleep in bed, you have to do your things around the house - so popping off for a quick trapeze lesson in the evening is out, as is nipping up to somewhere more northerly for a glimpse of the Aurora. What I would really like to do, is be Prof. Brian Cox's travelling companion! He's off around the world at the moment, with his film crew, making his next BBC series on The Wonders of the Universe (the last one was The Wonders of the Solar System). To be able to ponder all those questions about our existence for your job ... wow. That would have been wonderful - but alas, I was rubbish at maths and never considered the wonderfulness of science until I was in the middle of drunken arguments on existentialism at uni (you know the kind of arguments all students have at some point, when they're in a philosophical mood? What's at the end of the Universe, what is Nothing, are we alone, do we actually exist, or are we all a figment of something's imagination?).

But let's face it, I'm never going to make the Next Big Scientific Discovery now, am I?! So, what can I do that's important? I want to do something important. I don't want to just amble through life making no difference at all. I know we'll all return to star dust in the end anyway, but while we're here we should be trying to make the world beautiful, I think, so that our souls (if we have them - I don't really believe that we do, but it'd be nice) can look back on the time of this world and think 'wow, that was brilliant'. So, to that end, perhaps I am doing the right things with my spare time - learning to be a writer, to make something that someone will read and will enjoy. Books make people happy, and happy people are beautiful. (Unhappy people are beautiful too - don't want to alienate anyone! I think the whole world's beautiful, even the bad bits have a kind of beauty in them for the simple fact that they exist at all!) And to get good at writing, I think you need to spend a lot of time in your own head. Therefore, I must conclude that although I may not be of sound mind, that I may be mentally unhealthy to exist in a world of non-reality for several hours of my day, this is who I am, and it's fine.

Super Mum, where are you??

I've just realised today that I'm going to be on my own most of next week, with all three kiddies most of the time. Kev's been warning me that a little work trip is approaching, fast followed by a week of nights. It has only just dawned on me that it's next week! Idiot. I'm not worried about it at all - it's something I kind of look forward to. Nothing to do with Kev not being here - ha ha! No, but it's good to get organised. I usually find that, for some unfathomable reason, I turn into Super Mum when Kev spends any time away. The house is always very tidy, the kids are always well behaved, I always have an endless supply of patience, and the boys are always in bed by 7pm, well-fed, well-tired, and well-bedtime-storied. And then I usually get lots of my own stuff done in the evenings too. I don't know where Super Mum goes when Kev gets back - weird. Lazy and Shouty Mum comes back, he he. But anyway, next week will be lovely. We'll still see Kev a bit, before he goes off to sleep - oo-er, hope it's nice weather so that we can go out and not keep him awake with our raucousness.

Only got nine days of the holidays left, and I'd like to get out and do some fun stuff with the kids, because we've not done much in the past few days. I took them to the Stone Jetty at Morecambe yesterday afternoon, and that was great. It's funny that some stone benches and platforms can induce so much bounciness and hilarity in three small boys. All we did was walk up and down the jetty, but they had so much fun, it was lovely. My back had had it by the evening, from carrying them from bench to bench in turn, as they pretended to fly through the air, stretched out in various poses such as Superman and Ironman; it started to get very silly very quickly, as Matthew wanted to be carried across as a sheep, then a donkey, then a piece of cheese, a stick, and so on. It was very funny.

Productive day today? Nope. Had the morning all to myself, and spent it reading! Didn't even pick up a pen - just waited for Kev and Thomas to go off to golf, then rushed upstairs to snuggle up in the comfy chair in the bay window, in full glorious Spring sunshine, reading the second book of the Twilight Saga. Sad, so very sad. I've become a seventeen-year-old again :) Pah! Well, what's wrong with that, eh? I'm enjoying myself. And as soon as I've finished blogging I will unashamedly get back to my book, ner ner ne ner ner!

(I'm actually looking forward to finishing this little series of books so that I can get back to normal, and stop thinking about beautiful vampires!)

Well, I've nothing left to ramble about right now. So I'll be off. (Sometimes I wish I knew how to spell certain sounds so that I could write them in properly - like, how do you spell a whistling sound? Or a tut? Those kinds of spellings would come in handy sometimes, you know?)

Night.