Thought for the week..

This one is doing the rounds via Email, but I liked it, so thought I would share!

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck.
One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.
At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water..
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.
But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.
'I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.'
The old woman smiled, 'Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?'
'That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them..'
For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.
Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.'
Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding.
You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.
SO, to all of my cracked pot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Savvy savings..

Like most young family's, we pretty much live pay cheque to pay cheque.

We have a savings account in which we put some of our hard earned cash into each month. Not as much as I'd have liked, but it's there all the same and it does make a big difference.

We also have a Christmas fund, making the annual event a whole lot less stressful, especially given the amount of people we have to buy for at that time of year.

We also have a Tesco Club Card, a Nectar Card, a Boot Advantage Card and we collect the in store food stamps at Tesco, Sainsburys and Iceland to help with the ever mounting costs of a growing family.

I avidly look for ways of saving money where ever I can. The following site has truly been a life saver at times and I want to share it all with you.

The lovely Martin Lewis at MSE is an invaluable source of knowledge!

It will take you months to get through all of the brilliant money saving tips and ideas on the site and I can't express enough just how wonderful it is.

Martin is also the author/editor of some brilliant money saving books.

This site really does cover everything that you could possibly want to try and save money on and includes all of the latests offers and discounts from food to days out to holidays and weddings. You name it, someone on Martin's site has covered it!

Go and check it out today.. now in fact! I guarentee it will save you money somewhere.
And while you're there, sign up for the free weekly emails which are packed full of yet more money saving ideas.

Criticism

Following on from my last blog post, you will know that I'd received some nasty comments from an 'Anonymous' person, who is apparently a parent of a child who goes to my children's school.

This person obviously doesn't know me very well, judging my their comments.

I do not seek public approval. Or approval from anyone in fact.
I will gladly take criticism, when it is due.

If this person was so very concerned about mine or my children's behaviour, why write an anonymous comment? Why not come and see me face to face? Or send me a message?

Clearly this person has some kind of distorted view of me and my family. And I would be more then happy to discus any genuine concerns that this person may have.

I am a good person, and a good mother. I have nothing to hide. I do not claim to be perfect.
These are the messages sent to me by this person.

Fed very well? Isn't it you who is always tweeting about feeding your baby cocktail sausages and burgers? Full of salt? Which you aren't supposed to include in any child's diet under the age of 1 year!?
Wotsits as a breakfast staple?
4 types of carbs in one meal - what was it? Wedges, pasta, yorkshire puddings, and I forget the other. Again, all processed crap.
No food in the house when you return from holidays.
I sit, aghast, reading your tweets and wonder how long it will be before one of them ends up with kidney failure

Now just to point out that the above comment is partly true. Although, this would of course assume that I never home make any of my children's meals.

I did indeed tweet last week while on holiday about Wotsists being a breakfast staple. This was not a literal statement. I do not let my children eat Wotsists for breakfast. They had already had cereal and toast that morning, but had been up very early and were hungry again and asked for a bag of the aforementioned crisps.

Again, 'Anon' was correct in saying that I provided several types of carbs in one meal. However, this was not for all of my children, this was for the baby, who at 9months old is still getting to grips with weaning and prefers 'proper' food as apposed to pureed. I had given him lots of different things (not just carbs) to try at this particular meal time to see what he liked. All but the pasta was homemade I might add.

The 'No food in the house following holiday' tweet was again correct. This did only refer to me as I am on a diet and my other half hadn't shopped for my diet. The children were very well catered for.

Another comment from this person:

Not printing my acurate comments though hey Kerry.
Hum, no I don't post on just anyone's blogs, just people whose kids go to my kids' school and whose behaviour I am very concerned about.
I couldn't 'unfollow' you as I am not on Twitter, just managed to track you down on here as you are very easy to find - desperate for public approval, and eager to comment on others' behaviour but unable to take criticism when it is deserved. You have admitted it is deserved by not printing my previous comments.

While some of your comments were accurate, they were not in context.

Oh and just so you know, I do not sit at the computer all day, the wonderful thing about technology is that you can keep up with the world on the move. Handy little things, iPhone's and the like are.. It means I can post updates from where ever I am, be it the park, a holiday site, or my home. It literally takes seconds and I can do this while getting on with my daily routines.

Like I said, I have nothing to hide, I do my best, like all mothers.
And like I often say, I'm not perfect, who is?
I give my children the odd sweet and bag of crisps. I let them watch cartoons and play video games. I even buy them McDonald's every now and then. And hell while I'm at it, I'll admit that I drive a people carrier, I don't grow my own veggies and my tumble dryer is on most days regardless of the weather..

Start as you mean to go on..

..Fuck I hope not!

I'll set the scene for you.

It's a wet, windy and stupidly cold August Monday morning.
Last night was bad. All 4 kids woke more then once each which is not the norm, so I'm mega tired.
I have a migraine. The kind that makes you feel you as if you have been hit by a train.
I can barely open my eyes through the pain, and when I do all I can see are coloured spots, like someone has been taking flash photography.

Drew leaves for the Doctor's surgery to have his stitches removed before going in to work.
I reluctantly pull myself from my bed and throw on some clothes. As I begin to walk down the stairs, the following happens.

CRASH...BANG...THUD... SMASH

I feel disorientated as I hear the screaming coming from the kitchen.

I run to the living room and am greeting my my 6 year old. She's wet. She's shouting above her sisters' cries.

I make my way past her to the kitchen. The scene that greets me is chaotic. The 5 and 3 year olds are standing there shouting and screaming and crying.. They are both wet too.

I carefully lift them over the carnage that once resembled my kitchen. They are both shaken, but unhurt.

The floor resembles the shallow end of a swimming pool, but it is not water across the floor, it is oil.

It seems that the numerous tellings off and trips to the naughty step for the 6 year old have not paid off.

She decided to climb on top of the the chest freezer, using my washing basket (full to over flowing with last weeks dirty holiday clothes) as a step and then to stop herself from falling back down, she heaved herself up on the steel utility shelving above which housed the following items:

A set of 3 Le Creuset pans, a 6L slow cooker, 2 measuring jugs, AND a deep fat fryer.

The full basket of clothes have had to be thrown out. They were drenched in oil. They are gone.

My wash basket. Destroyed.

The utility shelves, gone, along with some of the plaster from the wall.

The fryer is still in pieces, yet to be considered salvageable or not.

Luckily the pans survived, although one of their lids didn't.

The slow cooker is OK

The jugs. Gone.

The kitchen floor will be OK. However, for now it will be used as an ice rink as I just cannot get the greasiness off.

The beige living room carpet is another right off. There are now 4 sets of oily foot prints clearly visible making their way from the kitchen.

To say that I am angry would be the understatement of the decade. The amount of money it is going to cost us to put this mess right is immense.

It has taken me 4 hours to clean it up and it is still not 100% finished. I have used 6 whole rolls of kitchen towel half a bottle of washing up liquid and a full bottle of bleach to try and remove the greasy feeling from the vinyl, with little success.

Don't get me wrong, I am relieved that none of the children were injured, really I am.

But I am ready to kill today.. In fact I don't know how I have managed to control myself.

My chest is hurting, I have cried and my migraine isn't any better, but I've had to cope and carry on.

I needed to write this blog to get it off of my chest so that I don't take it out on the kids.

Any tips for the floor would be very much appreciated!!!

Potatoes are made from sheep..

I'm stressing that I haven't even begun to pack for our week long trip to Kent.
We leave on Monday, and I have yet to get the cases down from the attic!

I decided that a very quick, trashy dinner would do for the kids and served up some sausages and Alphabites.
The kids all love Alphabites, they love to spell their names out on their plates, so who am I to argue?
It's an educational dinner, right?

Then it happened. Out of the blue, the 5 year old turns to me and says
"What's this made from?"
Holding up a half eaten Alphabite.
I reply with
"Potato"

"Yeah, but what is it?"
"Potato!".
"Yes Mum, I know, but what's it really made of? Is it sheep?"
"What?"
"Is this made of sheep?"
"Huh? No!It's potato!"
"But it's white and fluffy"
"That's what potatoes look like!"
She turns to her sister, and mutters
"Ah, so it is sheep!"

Me *sharp intake of breath, closes open mouth and walks away in disbelief*

Parks, picnics and 17 kids..

Today, we had a 'Ghost Hill School' meet up at a local park.

Che, in his new O'baby Stroller

I loaded up Che's new O'Baby stroller (which I bloody love, by the way!) with picnic food, beakers, changing bag, potty, rugs and of course the camera and off we set for the 25min walk to the park.

When we arrived, there were quite a few of our fellow comrades there waiting for us.

After a quick head count, I realised that we had 17 children with us aged between 9months and 8 years old, with 7 adults supervising!

Out came the sun, and the picnic blankets and a whole hoard of food!

There was laughter and happiness in the air. All the kids got on and there wasn't a single fight.








All of the babies managed a little nap under the shade of a big tree, as the older kids climbed another.

Alice, Hannah, Ava, Lauryn and Jacob

I  really couldn't have asked for a better day.
To be able to share it with so many of my friends and their families was the icing on the cake.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
And I've now got some fab photo's and memories to boot!

Ashley

Nathan and Che, the babies of the group

Cheeky little Rocco

Not for the easily offended..

As my bipolar cycles kick into overdrive, I have come to realise that no one is safe when I am at the top of my 'game'.

It seems that I turn into some crazed wild animal, ready to pounce upon my prey at a seconds notice.

It really is a need. An obsessive, compulsive itch that must be scratched.

I don't want meaningful 'love' making, I need rough, hard, give it to me right now hot kinda sex.
Once is never enough.

I feel incredibly powerful, and sexy. I'd even go as far as to say irresistible. (?!)

The need to be touched and paid attention to, is acutely strong.

My persona distinctly changes and I become this seriously over confident, lustful, nymphomaniac.
I wear out my poor other half, who doesn't know what the hell has hit him, and I still want more!

I have no control over this. Seriously. I have tried to curb my 'enthusiasum' to little or no effect.

I am frustrated beyond belief. And nothing helps.

I feel like I've been torn in two. Mild schizophrenia or something?
One day I am Kerry, mother of 4, dowdy housewife. The next, I'm Kerry, filth for brains, sex crazed MILF!!!

Apparently, or so my Doctor says, this is completely normal for someone like myself who suffers with such intense cycles of Bipolar. I have been told to 'go with the flow' and to 'play out my fantasies'

The problem is, it's not about 'fantasy' it's simply about the urgent need to have huge bouts of sex. Over and over and over again.

I find people, in general more sexy. More appealing and attractive. I find talking about sex easier.
Of course, I would never, EVER, even for one second contemplate anyone but Drew. (Well, there is 'The List' obviously, but everyone has one of them. The unlikely chance meeting of a overly perfect hot celeb when you can have one night and not answer for it..)

Is it unrealistic of me to want to have that kind of great 'got to have it, rough, dirty' kind of sex that you see in the movies? (and I'm not talking porn here people)
The kind of sex which leaves you both feeling drained and breathless and glowing.

Now, I'm not saying for a moment, that the sex I do have isn't up to standard, believe me I have no issues on that score! But it's a different kind of fulfilment. A different itch which needs to be scratched in a particular way.

Maybe it is all about fantasy after all..

Release

I am writing this post for the beautiful Josie's Writing Workshop.
I have chosen the prompt : Release.

The empty pages before me are crying out to be bought to life.
A little doodle here, a phone number there. They don't mind how you resurrect them.

I have a passion for bettering myself. Well at least trying to.
I try to be creative. I try not to be disheartened when I realise that my efforts aren't in anyway close to those around me. I just concentrate on the feeling of how proud I was that I'd finished something that I wanted to achieve.

Writing this blog is an achievement. I know, it's not much. And I'm very aware that I can not 'write'.
But it's an achievement for me none the less.

When I have time, I like to try my hand at painting. I have painted a few canvas'.
None great, but again I am proud that they are recognised and they are displayed in my living room for all to see.

Music. Music (as it is well documented in this blog) is my most productive form of  release.
It lifts my mood when I'm down and carries me along when I'm soring through the clouds.
It's as if it knows me better then I ever knew myself.

Then there is of course, the one thing that unites the world. It's a renowned feel-good measure.Sex.
Break up sex, make up sex. Meaningful sex and even a sordid 'quicky' in the back of a car..

Many things release me from the cage that I have become trapped in over recent years, and I am so very grateful for the occasional break.

This page has now been born again.
Like a Phoenix rising from it's flames. It's beautiful. It's colourful and it will last forever.
I have been released from my cage of entrapment once again.