So last night I did something completely new.
I bought a chlamydia home test kit.
Now woah there with the thought process that you are going through. It was not for me. Allow me to explain before you start thinking I'm some sort of hobo whore.
I have a friend called Dee. Dee is a special character. Dee is the kind of friend that you try to tell people stories about, and they look at you as if to say lay off the LSD. Dee is 30 years old and can quite often be described as the most infuriating man I know. I would go so far as to say that he is more like a brother to me, only the most annoying brother in the world that I am constantly trying to distance myself from but can't for love nor money. I do love him but the man thinks with his mangarden and even that doesn't really operate with the best of intelligence.
So there is this girl that he has recently had the funky dance with, and prior to him commencing with such an action I had tried to warn him off her. Our group is quite large, and everybody tends to know everybody and this particular girl is a friend of a friend whose sister is their friend... etc etc, so there was some knowledge about her sexual exploits that was being thrown around between the gossipers of the group. But Dee being Dee, who has never taken a single piece of advice I have given him over the past 5 years I have known him decides to ignore me and take a ride on the ship of love.
And then I get a call yesterday from somebody who got a call from somebody who spoke to somebody who knew that the girl had gone to the STD clinic today to get a check up because 'you know... it was kind of kooky down there...'.
So of course it became my job to tell the complete arse that is Dee this splendid news. The convo:
Me: Dude, got some news to tell you.
Dee: Yeah?
Me: You remember those conversations we have, where I try to tell you I'm right and you are an arse?
Dee: Vaguely.
Me: You know... the ones where I try to tell you not to do something so utterly stupid your own mum will think you're a buttfuck? And then you completely ignore me, and in three months I tell you I told you so...?
Dee: Sounds familiar.
Me: Well I told you so. I told you not to go near ********, that she was possibly a petri dish of various illnesses and diseases, some of which we thought died out with the dinosaurs. And guess what... she paid a little visit to the Vag Village today to check herself out cause, dude, she has symptoms.
Dee:....... (Silence).... Fuck.
Me: So you need to go get checked out. And you can't say anything to her about you knowing because you're not supposed to know. She's trying to keep it on the quiet.
Dee: Fuck. What a slut. So you're telling me that I can't say anything to her, and that I should just sit here waiting for my dick to drop off? Fuck man... I only stopped taking the pills like a month ago.
Me: Dude, who's the slut?!
So somehow or another it transpires that he doesn't have the time to get to a clinic to check himself out, as he is so busy at work (even with the weighing up of the importance of balls and schlong or bills and stacks I tried to throw at him), which resulted in me being roped into meeting him after work so that he could go to the local pharmacy to pick up one of those 'check at home' kits. Sometimes I wonder how I manage to get into these 'help a brother out' situations...
So I meet him, and we drive to the pharamacy. And he tries to say 'okay dude, I'll be right here when you get out'. Hold on, you get the fun of the act, the orgasm at the end, and I, who was not present, not even for a minute to help you undo your trousers gets to do the shuffle of shame to the counter, head down, nil eye contact...? Nu uh.
He gets out of the car and we approach the doors. Silence between us. Our mission weighs heavy on our hearts. Questions tumble through the mind... who will pick it up? What till will we go to? Which one will get 'the glance'? Will they assume we are both just skanks?
We enter. The store is fucking huge, so five minutes of us trying to find the location of The Thing That We Are Buying That Must Never Be Mentioned takes place. Fuck going to somebody and saying 'hi miss, we're looking for the STD tests... you know just for shits and giggles... which ways...?'.
We find them. There are two different ones. The dilemma... do we go for the trusted name brand one, or the own store brand one... sometimes it really does matter. Which box is going to be easiest to conceal until bagged and fleeing from the shop? We grab and run.
We approach the counter. For some strange reason, Dee so far has had zero contact with TTTWABTMNBM, and so it is stashed as deep into the crevice of my armpit as I can get it. Which has unexpectedly attracted the attention of the security guard of the store who is now hovering around like a fox eyeing up a binbag. We stand, and wait, while other oblivious people idle by. I break out into a sweat. I glance at Dee for some reassurance, for some sign that we are still cool, that nobody knows that we are buying the piss stick for a dick doc, to catch him following a woman's arse with his eyes as she saunters past. For him to open his mouth and actually say 'hey sugar....'.
Me: Dude, what the fuck. Do you really think you are in any position to be trying to catch the eye of the ladies right now?
Dee: What? Don't hate on me just cause you've got chlamydia and can't do the same at the mo....
Oh dear sweet jesus. I lost the power to speak. As various heads spun round faster than a racing car's wheels, my face burst into a wonderful shade of purple. I threw the box at the cashier, paid for the damn thing (as Dee had conveniently left his wallet in the car), only to be handed it back in a bag that the chemist had very politely added a condom to.
As my sweet lardy arse made a swift exit towards the door, saying hideously bad things under my breath about Dee while trying to force him to take the bag, he proceeded to then chase me out of the doors screaming 'bitch, you better not come home til it's cleared up! YEAH!'
I still haven't recovered, and I hope to fuck Dee's dick drops off....
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Ten things you need to know about me...
1. I have completely sworn off men, at least for the foreseeable future. That is not to say that I don't love men. No siree, they have their uses. I happen to know many a man who is a dab hand at removing spiders, putting up shelves, fixing my pipes (ahem), but I am much more in love with the idea that you can kick them out afterwards, or at least fondly wish them farewell.
2. I have often wondered what life would be like if I were a man... I think I would like this for a day. I would like to scratch my balls, fart indiscriminately and give a lady a cheesy come on only to be knocked back, I think these things would make me grateful I am a woman.
3. I much prefer the company of my cat to my mum. She sucks. My cat, on the other hand is a feline legend. And based on my lifestyle these days I believe I may be on the path to Crazy Cat Lady Syndrome. I know this because even though my cat has just hopped up onto the keyboard and stared at the screen with a small lump of poo still attached to her anus, I still think my cat is the shit. Pun intended. On the other hand if my mum did the same I'd think she was a crazy bastard, who needed toilet training.
4. I suffer from insomnia, when I'm not drunk and when I have to sleep on my own, and that makes me one mean son of a gun in the morning. My cat retreats... my neighbours don't say hello, and my workmates tell me I need to get laid. On the other hand, I can be remarkably jolly after a good night's sleep. No, seriously, sometimes I break out into song after a good 8 hours...
5. I have seven brothers and sisters, and I am the eldest of us 8. That makes me a surrogate mother, the children bastards, and my mother a rampant old woman.
6. I am soon to be 23 years old. The thought horrifies me almost as much as my recurring dream of getting to work and finding out I have no clothes on from the waist down.... I have discussed this dream with my colleagues, and it was hard to tell who was most horrified...
7. I do not want children. At least none that have to be pulled from MY vagina. The gene pool from whence I came is lacking in most characteristics, and I'd really rather not pass any of these on. Plus I quite like my ladygarden the way it is thank you very much.
8. I get incredibly panicky when having to face some of my phobias:
- Wet Tissue. This make using public toilets very difficult.
- Biting into an apple. This makes eating apple pie very difficult.
- Wet leaves/mush after people have smooshed them all up. This makes walking to work in Autumn very difficult.
9. There are certain romantic gestures that do not go down well with me. Sending flowers to my work after a first date, when I never told you where I work, is not going to send the right vibes dude. My panic alarm is at the ready.
10. I snore when i'm drunk, I drink too much, I eat a lot, I have fat bits and flat bits and they're in the wrong places, and you take me as I am or don't take me at all.
Now form an orderly queue please.
2. I have often wondered what life would be like if I were a man... I think I would like this for a day. I would like to scratch my balls, fart indiscriminately and give a lady a cheesy come on only to be knocked back, I think these things would make me grateful I am a woman.
3. I much prefer the company of my cat to my mum. She sucks. My cat, on the other hand is a feline legend. And based on my lifestyle these days I believe I may be on the path to Crazy Cat Lady Syndrome. I know this because even though my cat has just hopped up onto the keyboard and stared at the screen with a small lump of poo still attached to her anus, I still think my cat is the shit. Pun intended. On the other hand if my mum did the same I'd think she was a crazy bastard, who needed toilet training.
4. I suffer from insomnia, when I'm not drunk and when I have to sleep on my own, and that makes me one mean son of a gun in the morning. My cat retreats... my neighbours don't say hello, and my workmates tell me I need to get laid. On the other hand, I can be remarkably jolly after a good night's sleep. No, seriously, sometimes I break out into song after a good 8 hours...
5. I have seven brothers and sisters, and I am the eldest of us 8. That makes me a surrogate mother, the children bastards, and my mother a rampant old woman.
6. I am soon to be 23 years old. The thought horrifies me almost as much as my recurring dream of getting to work and finding out I have no clothes on from the waist down.... I have discussed this dream with my colleagues, and it was hard to tell who was most horrified...
7. I do not want children. At least none that have to be pulled from MY vagina. The gene pool from whence I came is lacking in most characteristics, and I'd really rather not pass any of these on. Plus I quite like my ladygarden the way it is thank you very much.
8. I get incredibly panicky when having to face some of my phobias:
- Wet Tissue. This make using public toilets very difficult.
- Biting into an apple. This makes eating apple pie very difficult.
- Wet leaves/mush after people have smooshed them all up. This makes walking to work in Autumn very difficult.
9. There are certain romantic gestures that do not go down well with me. Sending flowers to my work after a first date, when I never told you where I work, is not going to send the right vibes dude. My panic alarm is at the ready.
10. I snore when i'm drunk, I drink too much, I eat a lot, I have fat bits and flat bits and they're in the wrong places, and you take me as I am or don't take me at all.
Now form an orderly queue please.
A new obsession....
Okay so sitting here bored, and I happen to glance at this young lady's blog...
http://junketjuice.blogspot.com/
... and she recommends this site...
http://textsfromlastnight.com/worst-nights/
and my afternoon has been transformed... i mean seriously... some of these....
So I went on a date with this girl...and whos our waitress? My girlfriend got a second job she didn't tell me about to afford my bday present.
I just walked in on my mom and dad......It wasn't my dad
wtf he couldnt undo my bra, i asked him if it was his first time and he said "with a girl? yeah"
u threw up in the oven last night. i found that out after i preheated it to cook a pizza.
So we tried to 69 with him on top. NEVER TRY IT. His balls were in my eyes and it was terrifying.
Sharpest. Poop. Ever.
you opened the fridge, pissed on the food, fell over, then threw up on yourself. thats whats all over the kitchen.
These sound like my kind of people... how alarming...
http://junketjuice.blogspot.com/
... and she recommends this site...
http://textsfromlastnight.com/worst-nights/
and my afternoon has been transformed... i mean seriously... some of these....
So I went on a date with this girl...and whos our waitress? My girlfriend got a second job she didn't tell me about to afford my bday present.
I just walked in on my mom and dad......It wasn't my dad
wtf he couldnt undo my bra, i asked him if it was his first time and he said "with a girl? yeah"
u threw up in the oven last night. i found that out after i preheated it to cook a pizza.
So we tried to 69 with him on top. NEVER TRY IT. His balls were in my eyes and it was terrifying.
Sharpest. Poop. Ever.
you opened the fridge, pissed on the food, fell over, then threw up on yourself. thats whats all over the kitchen.
These sound like my kind of people... how alarming...
Glasgow Part Deux…
So yesterday we booked up the tickets for our trip to Glasgow! Yay!
I went up there in March of this year… kind of a reunion thingy… two of my school friends moved up there when I was 15, and the wonder that is Facebook reintroduced me to them so I grabbed a couple of the girls and we made a weekend of it! Great times were had, and I aim to be repeating that this time round.
Benny was one of the guys in our little gang at school. Like me, he started halfway through, when everyone else had already got their gangs and you feel like a bit of a twat trying to find to new friends. We hit if off really well, and I was kind of devastated when he moved… not least because I had developed a huge crush on him by the time he went and we actually got to doing a bit of the smooching, and then he buggered off to run in fields of thistle…
His older sister Jay was a wild one at school. She was even naughtier than me, so obviously we got along really well. By the time she moved to Scotland, she had had a little girl, Kiki, and things hadn’t gone so well for her down here, so it was a fresh start for her, which I am glad for. Nowadays she has a cheeky monster by the name of Gabriel within her brood as well, and both kids and rascals but beautiful.
The last time we were there our delightful tour guide Benny was a diamond… looked after us from start to finish, and didn’t even moan that he had to babysit three absolute nutcase women for the entire weekend. It was so nice just to catch up and spend some time with him, and he is definitely a friend that has been around for a long time and isn’t going anywhere for a long while. I have no doubt that there will be some rather alarming pictures taken, and I will be sure to put them up, okay maybe not the most alarming ones (Karen has a delightful one of me pissing about in a pair of tights from last time… so not cool), and will probably have a few hairy stories for you all. I’m taking a completely new group of ladies up there with me this time:
Danielle: Danielle is 19 and at uni. I have known her for about five years now, but originally didn’t really speak to her at all. I used to be very close to her brother Tommy, who I used to also have a major crush on, but me and Tommy are both scaredy pants when it comes to making any kind of moves in the loving department, so things have never worked out for us. However, it has introduced me to the legend that is Danielle and I am eternally grateful to him for that (even if he is a bit of a battycrease these days). I have never met somebody who is quite as much on my level as this girl, and I have never met anybody with whom I can be so completely relaxed around. We both have the same sense of humour, and are both slightly dippy when we least need to be, so it fits that we would get along so well. She is completely my sidekick these days, and there is no way I do anything these days without her. Which results in good times, and some not so savoury stories about adventures that we go on. And a love for her like a fat kid has for cake… fat kids and their cheeseburger titties…
Keilee: Keilee is Dan’s older sister, and although slightly more reserved than myself and Dan, this girl knows how to have a good time and is ready and willing to do it! She has recently come out of a long term relationship that basically dominated much of what she has done over the last few years, but she has thrown herself into wholeheartedly making up for it. It was her idea for this weekend away, and I feel that there will be much to laugh about when we return.
Ella: Ella is probably the quietest one of us going, but luckily enough she has had experience of us three crazies being together from a weekend trip we made as a foursome to Brighton earlier on this year. Ella is one of Keilee’s best friends and a good laugh, so I shall be looking forward to bitching about passers by again with her. We are too good at it.
So this is the gang this time round. Brighton was groovy, we had our first experience of staying in a hostel (resulting in all four of us sleeping in the same bed even though there were a further three in our room – apparently if one of us was getting cooties we were all going down together), and I am pretty sure that there will be a fair few more firsts from this weekend coming – December 4th to the 6th. It’s Glasgow baby… and it’s game on…
I went up there in March of this year… kind of a reunion thingy… two of my school friends moved up there when I was 15, and the wonder that is Facebook reintroduced me to them so I grabbed a couple of the girls and we made a weekend of it! Great times were had, and I aim to be repeating that this time round.
Benny was one of the guys in our little gang at school. Like me, he started halfway through, when everyone else had already got their gangs and you feel like a bit of a twat trying to find to new friends. We hit if off really well, and I was kind of devastated when he moved… not least because I had developed a huge crush on him by the time he went and we actually got to doing a bit of the smooching, and then he buggered off to run in fields of thistle…
His older sister Jay was a wild one at school. She was even naughtier than me, so obviously we got along really well. By the time she moved to Scotland, she had had a little girl, Kiki, and things hadn’t gone so well for her down here, so it was a fresh start for her, which I am glad for. Nowadays she has a cheeky monster by the name of Gabriel within her brood as well, and both kids and rascals but beautiful.
The last time we were there our delightful tour guide Benny was a diamond… looked after us from start to finish, and didn’t even moan that he had to babysit three absolute nutcase women for the entire weekend. It was so nice just to catch up and spend some time with him, and he is definitely a friend that has been around for a long time and isn’t going anywhere for a long while. I have no doubt that there will be some rather alarming pictures taken, and I will be sure to put them up, okay maybe not the most alarming ones (Karen has a delightful one of me pissing about in a pair of tights from last time… so not cool), and will probably have a few hairy stories for you all. I’m taking a completely new group of ladies up there with me this time:
Danielle: Danielle is 19 and at uni. I have known her for about five years now, but originally didn’t really speak to her at all. I used to be very close to her brother Tommy, who I used to also have a major crush on, but me and Tommy are both scaredy pants when it comes to making any kind of moves in the loving department, so things have never worked out for us. However, it has introduced me to the legend that is Danielle and I am eternally grateful to him for that (even if he is a bit of a battycrease these days). I have never met somebody who is quite as much on my level as this girl, and I have never met anybody with whom I can be so completely relaxed around. We both have the same sense of humour, and are both slightly dippy when we least need to be, so it fits that we would get along so well. She is completely my sidekick these days, and there is no way I do anything these days without her. Which results in good times, and some not so savoury stories about adventures that we go on. And a love for her like a fat kid has for cake… fat kids and their cheeseburger titties…
Keilee: Keilee is Dan’s older sister, and although slightly more reserved than myself and Dan, this girl knows how to have a good time and is ready and willing to do it! She has recently come out of a long term relationship that basically dominated much of what she has done over the last few years, but she has thrown herself into wholeheartedly making up for it. It was her idea for this weekend away, and I feel that there will be much to laugh about when we return.
Ella: Ella is probably the quietest one of us going, but luckily enough she has had experience of us three crazies being together from a weekend trip we made as a foursome to Brighton earlier on this year. Ella is one of Keilee’s best friends and a good laugh, so I shall be looking forward to bitching about passers by again with her. We are too good at it.
So this is the gang this time round. Brighton was groovy, we had our first experience of staying in a hostel (resulting in all four of us sleeping in the same bed even though there were a further three in our room – apparently if one of us was getting cooties we were all going down together), and I am pretty sure that there will be a fair few more firsts from this weekend coming – December 4th to the 6th. It’s Glasgow baby… and it’s game on…
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Some good news!
So I got some good news yesterday… I got a phone call from the Social Services department… and they had returned my interest in becoming a respite foster carer and will be in touch within the next five days to arrange a home visit to see if I qualify with living arrangements!
YAY!!!
Now let me explain about this one. It has not just risen out of nowhere this idea. Admittedly, me moving into a two bed place for the sake of my sister and then having her bugger off has enabled me to be in a position where I can have it happen… but the consideration has been there for years. There are many reasons why I would love to foster children.
1. I’ve been there and I’ve done it. Yep, leaving my mother’s house at 12 inevitably led to me going through the system… and I spent the good part of the next 7 years moving a total of 23 times, if my memory of my records isn’t failing me. I didn’t really have the most stable of childhoods… far from it… but one of the most settled times I had was when I lived with a foster carer called Doreen for a year. I remember being taken to her house for the first night. Up until that point I had been pretty much couch surfing with various relatives, and my aunt Dawn was the one who made me realise that I couldn’t carry on doing it. So naïve as I was, I decided to take myself to a local children’s home I knew of, and almost ‘hand myself in’. Obviously, I had no idea that there was process to be followed, and was swiftly turned away and told to visit the Social Services office the next day. I did, and that night I was placed with Doreen. Doreen was in her 50s, and had a 19 year old son and a 21 year old daughter of her own. Her daughter also had a two year old son, and she also had two other foster children who were siblings who lived with her. These guys became my family for the next year. I thrived at school, made some lifelong friends, as it was the only year of my schooling where I regularly attended (never missed a day!) and got a little piece of childhood. My time at Doreen’s never ended on a bad note… I simply agreed to visit my mother who managed to manipulate me into staying (it lasted a month, and then couch surfing it was again, my place at Doreen’s had been filled), and I am still friends with her biological children to this day. Sadly, she died a little over three years ago.
I know what its like to be thrown into that situation. I lived it and breathed it. And I came out of it not too badly, when I could have walked down a very different path. I would like to be somebody’s Doreen. I want to be the person who has that blind bit of faith in someone, and genuinely just wants somebody to be okay.
2. I have had my fair share of bad experiences. I have pretty much seen most things and done most things… which doesn’t make me some old fart who doesn’t know what they’re talking about.
3. I have never felt strongly about having my own children. Let me explain. I have always wanted children. For a while now, I have had the odd thought about ‘wouldn’t it be nice to be settled down and the like now’… but I don’t think that will happen for me. I can be ferociously guarded when it comes to men, and that doesn’t make for building strong relationships with them. This probably relates to point 2 above, as to why that may be, but that it the way it is. I am also petrified about getting pregnant and giving birth. I cannot think of anything that scares me as much as that. Some of my friends are currently pregnant, or have had children, and it is something that I cannot imagine ever going through without the paralysation of fear from it beforehand! I also have strong feelings towards the view that we don’t need to give birth to a child for it to be ours, there is a lot more that goes into being a parent to somebody other than DNA. I think I would much rather adopt in my future than have my own children anyway.
4. I have had my fair share of experience with kids. Seven brothers and sisters… and an ability to be brilliantly entertained by playing with a toddler for four hours I feel is a gift that should not be wasted.
I am not going into this blind. I understand that I am young, and some people may say too young. But there are women out there who are having children, some of whom I could end up looking after who are younger than me, and may need help. I am mature, and knowledgeable, and I think that I make most decisions after careful thought. I am a person who tries to help everybody, and there are some people who may abuse that trait, and that includes children, but there are also children that need that help. Far too many people are having children with no real concern for their welfare, and there are those that simply cannot cope on their own, and if I can help by giving some time and some care, then why not? What are my alternatives? Going out and spending money on alcohol in places I really would rather not be in? Sit at home doing nothing? Why not spend some of that time by providing a safe and loving environment that some children may be lacking, or may never have received.
I have applied to be a respite foster carer for a start, which means that I would be caring for children on weekends and possibly helping out during school holidays. This will allow me to carry on working for the moment, and allow me to build up my confidence and decide whether I would want to make a more permanent progression towards it as a permanent lifestyle. I have also said that I would be willing to care for a child with difficulties, be those physical or mental, and although this could prove the most challenging of situations I have been in so far, I feel that it would also be the most rewarding.
So fingers crossed guys!
YAY!!!
Now let me explain about this one. It has not just risen out of nowhere this idea. Admittedly, me moving into a two bed place for the sake of my sister and then having her bugger off has enabled me to be in a position where I can have it happen… but the consideration has been there for years. There are many reasons why I would love to foster children.
1. I’ve been there and I’ve done it. Yep, leaving my mother’s house at 12 inevitably led to me going through the system… and I spent the good part of the next 7 years moving a total of 23 times, if my memory of my records isn’t failing me. I didn’t really have the most stable of childhoods… far from it… but one of the most settled times I had was when I lived with a foster carer called Doreen for a year. I remember being taken to her house for the first night. Up until that point I had been pretty much couch surfing with various relatives, and my aunt Dawn was the one who made me realise that I couldn’t carry on doing it. So naïve as I was, I decided to take myself to a local children’s home I knew of, and almost ‘hand myself in’. Obviously, I had no idea that there was process to be followed, and was swiftly turned away and told to visit the Social Services office the next day. I did, and that night I was placed with Doreen. Doreen was in her 50s, and had a 19 year old son and a 21 year old daughter of her own. Her daughter also had a two year old son, and she also had two other foster children who were siblings who lived with her. These guys became my family for the next year. I thrived at school, made some lifelong friends, as it was the only year of my schooling where I regularly attended (never missed a day!) and got a little piece of childhood. My time at Doreen’s never ended on a bad note… I simply agreed to visit my mother who managed to manipulate me into staying (it lasted a month, and then couch surfing it was again, my place at Doreen’s had been filled), and I am still friends with her biological children to this day. Sadly, she died a little over three years ago.
I know what its like to be thrown into that situation. I lived it and breathed it. And I came out of it not too badly, when I could have walked down a very different path. I would like to be somebody’s Doreen. I want to be the person who has that blind bit of faith in someone, and genuinely just wants somebody to be okay.
2. I have had my fair share of bad experiences. I have pretty much seen most things and done most things… which doesn’t make me some old fart who doesn’t know what they’re talking about.
3. I have never felt strongly about having my own children. Let me explain. I have always wanted children. For a while now, I have had the odd thought about ‘wouldn’t it be nice to be settled down and the like now’… but I don’t think that will happen for me. I can be ferociously guarded when it comes to men, and that doesn’t make for building strong relationships with them. This probably relates to point 2 above, as to why that may be, but that it the way it is. I am also petrified about getting pregnant and giving birth. I cannot think of anything that scares me as much as that. Some of my friends are currently pregnant, or have had children, and it is something that I cannot imagine ever going through without the paralysation of fear from it beforehand! I also have strong feelings towards the view that we don’t need to give birth to a child for it to be ours, there is a lot more that goes into being a parent to somebody other than DNA. I think I would much rather adopt in my future than have my own children anyway.
4. I have had my fair share of experience with kids. Seven brothers and sisters… and an ability to be brilliantly entertained by playing with a toddler for four hours I feel is a gift that should not be wasted.
I am not going into this blind. I understand that I am young, and some people may say too young. But there are women out there who are having children, some of whom I could end up looking after who are younger than me, and may need help. I am mature, and knowledgeable, and I think that I make most decisions after careful thought. I am a person who tries to help everybody, and there are some people who may abuse that trait, and that includes children, but there are also children that need that help. Far too many people are having children with no real concern for their welfare, and there are those that simply cannot cope on their own, and if I can help by giving some time and some care, then why not? What are my alternatives? Going out and spending money on alcohol in places I really would rather not be in? Sit at home doing nothing? Why not spend some of that time by providing a safe and loving environment that some children may be lacking, or may never have received.
I have applied to be a respite foster carer for a start, which means that I would be caring for children on weekends and possibly helping out during school holidays. This will allow me to carry on working for the moment, and allow me to build up my confidence and decide whether I would want to make a more permanent progression towards it as a permanent lifestyle. I have also said that I would be willing to care for a child with difficulties, be those physical or mental, and although this could prove the most challenging of situations I have been in so far, I feel that it would also be the most rewarding.
So fingers crossed guys!
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
And then it got to this...
So by now you've read the background on the delightful family situation.... as you can tell mine is something of the extraordinary... and the general day to day goings on could give Walford a run for its money...
Back in January, things started to really go down the crapper at my mum's house. The kids were refusing to go to school, and Paige was in her last year at secondary school and seriously screwing up her exams. The boy had completely stopped going, and everything was being blamed on the affair that had been discovered in the summer. Now, don't get me wrong, I know that these things can have serious effects on kids, but the one thing that they need is support and routine. And these things are something my mother has never been able to provide.
The result was that at every opportunity, the eldest two children were walking all over my mother and resolutely refusing to go school because, quite frankly, they couldn't be arsed.
Now, I am the first one to admit that my attendance at school was definitely less than regular. I was expelled from my first secondary school for non-attendance, and there were many incidents during my time at the second when I came close to being booted out again. The difference with me was that I didn't even have a place I could call home. I spent four years moving 17 times between foster carers and friends' houses and really had no support whatsoever. Even though this was my situation, I knew that there was only one way I was ever really going to be able to sort my life out, and that was by getting an education and doing things for myself. I had no one handing me anything on a plate as a kid. If I needed money, I didn't get it unless I worked, and I had a succession of jobs from the age of 14 onwards. With all of this going on, I still managed to walk away from school with 9 GCSEs all A* to C, and 4 A Levels A* to C.
Because of this, I knew that even though you can have hardships going on, there are certain things in life that it is better to throw your energy into during these hard times, rather than giving up on them completely, and I wasn't about to let the kids go down that road.
The school ordered a quick succession of meetings with my mother and as I was a previous pupil and they knew that I played a big role in the kids lives, they wanted me present too. This originally went down well, but when everyone involved realised that I was about to blow the whistle on them and give them a few home truths, well, that didn't go down so well.
My mother was given the facts. Six months had passed since the affair had been discovered and she hadn't moved on a day. She was becoming bitter and twisted, and had a bad habit of discussing every small detail of what was occurring in front of all the children, sometimes even in front of their friends. She wasn't going to work and was at risk of losing her job, and she needed to pull it together and sort it out. The situation was not going to change, and she had to move on and act responsibly for the sake of the children. It wasn't about her anymore, it was about them.
The children were told that they were trying to take every available liberty going and I could see through them. The affair was becoming an excuse for their lack of interest in school, and my mother was encouraging this by lying to the school and providing excuses on days when the kids decided they didn't want to go. This all had to stop.
So the result was this: The boy has steadfastly refused to talk to me since January of this year, as it was the first ever time that I had gone against him in something. I have always supported the children in whatever they have wanted if they have been in the right, but on this occasion he wasn't, so I wasn't going to allow it.
The school decided that the best course of action would be for Paige to be removed to my care for the remainder of the school year, so as to ensure that she attended school and achieved the best possible grades in her exams. This did not go down well with my mother, but everyone knew that the strokes Paige had been pulling with my mother would most certainly not wash with me at all. So it was done.
So I became Mum. And it was a wake up call. I've had my own place for years now, and although I always have people over, and there is never an opportunity to get lonely, I didn't know just how used to having my own space I really was. I had a one bedroom place, and now I had a teenager too, and going from sleeping in a bed with one of the girls on a weekend to sleeping in a bed with my sister every night (who throws her weight and elbows around to no end while sleeping, I can assure you) was alarming. Nothing was mine anymore... clothes, toiletries... you name it. And it became claustrophobic. But I knew what my responsibility was and I was adamant that any inconveniences would be fine in the long run if Paige turned out okay.
So we got to grips with it. Purse strings were pulled in tightly (neither Paige's mother or father felt that they should be financially providing for her if she wasn't living with them) and routines were established. I wasn't there to be a constant whirlwind of barking orders, but there were certain things that had to be done and that was that. Schoolwork was priority and perhaps creating some sort of plan for her to start achieving.
And it all started to work. Paige's attendance at school increased by 80%. She was attending every lesson and completing all outstanding work (some of which had been outstanding for months). And revision for exams was being done. Now I knew that Paige was somewhat behind when it came to her studies, so I knew that we weren't going to get a full sweep across the board when results day came, but we both said that if Paige did her best, then that would be enough.
And then Paige decided that she wanted to stay.
Back in January, things started to really go down the crapper at my mum's house. The kids were refusing to go to school, and Paige was in her last year at secondary school and seriously screwing up her exams. The boy had completely stopped going, and everything was being blamed on the affair that had been discovered in the summer. Now, don't get me wrong, I know that these things can have serious effects on kids, but the one thing that they need is support and routine. And these things are something my mother has never been able to provide.
The result was that at every opportunity, the eldest two children were walking all over my mother and resolutely refusing to go school because, quite frankly, they couldn't be arsed.
Now, I am the first one to admit that my attendance at school was definitely less than regular. I was expelled from my first secondary school for non-attendance, and there were many incidents during my time at the second when I came close to being booted out again. The difference with me was that I didn't even have a place I could call home. I spent four years moving 17 times between foster carers and friends' houses and really had no support whatsoever. Even though this was my situation, I knew that there was only one way I was ever really going to be able to sort my life out, and that was by getting an education and doing things for myself. I had no one handing me anything on a plate as a kid. If I needed money, I didn't get it unless I worked, and I had a succession of jobs from the age of 14 onwards. With all of this going on, I still managed to walk away from school with 9 GCSEs all A* to C, and 4 A Levels A* to C.
Because of this, I knew that even though you can have hardships going on, there are certain things in life that it is better to throw your energy into during these hard times, rather than giving up on them completely, and I wasn't about to let the kids go down that road.
The school ordered a quick succession of meetings with my mother and as I was a previous pupil and they knew that I played a big role in the kids lives, they wanted me present too. This originally went down well, but when everyone involved realised that I was about to blow the whistle on them and give them a few home truths, well, that didn't go down so well.
My mother was given the facts. Six months had passed since the affair had been discovered and she hadn't moved on a day. She was becoming bitter and twisted, and had a bad habit of discussing every small detail of what was occurring in front of all the children, sometimes even in front of their friends. She wasn't going to work and was at risk of losing her job, and she needed to pull it together and sort it out. The situation was not going to change, and she had to move on and act responsibly for the sake of the children. It wasn't about her anymore, it was about them.
The children were told that they were trying to take every available liberty going and I could see through them. The affair was becoming an excuse for their lack of interest in school, and my mother was encouraging this by lying to the school and providing excuses on days when the kids decided they didn't want to go. This all had to stop.
So the result was this: The boy has steadfastly refused to talk to me since January of this year, as it was the first ever time that I had gone against him in something. I have always supported the children in whatever they have wanted if they have been in the right, but on this occasion he wasn't, so I wasn't going to allow it.
The school decided that the best course of action would be for Paige to be removed to my care for the remainder of the school year, so as to ensure that she attended school and achieved the best possible grades in her exams. This did not go down well with my mother, but everyone knew that the strokes Paige had been pulling with my mother would most certainly not wash with me at all. So it was done.
So I became Mum. And it was a wake up call. I've had my own place for years now, and although I always have people over, and there is never an opportunity to get lonely, I didn't know just how used to having my own space I really was. I had a one bedroom place, and now I had a teenager too, and going from sleeping in a bed with one of the girls on a weekend to sleeping in a bed with my sister every night (who throws her weight and elbows around to no end while sleeping, I can assure you) was alarming. Nothing was mine anymore... clothes, toiletries... you name it. And it became claustrophobic. But I knew what my responsibility was and I was adamant that any inconveniences would be fine in the long run if Paige turned out okay.
So we got to grips with it. Purse strings were pulled in tightly (neither Paige's mother or father felt that they should be financially providing for her if she wasn't living with them) and routines were established. I wasn't there to be a constant whirlwind of barking orders, but there were certain things that had to be done and that was that. Schoolwork was priority and perhaps creating some sort of plan for her to start achieving.
And it all started to work. Paige's attendance at school increased by 80%. She was attending every lesson and completing all outstanding work (some of which had been outstanding for months). And revision for exams was being done. Now I knew that Paige was somewhat behind when it came to her studies, so I knew that we weren't going to get a full sweep across the board when results day came, but we both said that if Paige did her best, then that would be enough.
And then Paige decided that she wanted to stay.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
