'You’re getting your nuggets chopped off, then it’s back home safe and sound!'

First of all, I would like to start off with a big THANK YOU! To everyone who read my blog yesterday, it meant a lot to me that so many of you took the time to read it, so thanks…

There’s some idiot moth, trapped, apparently, in my light. It’s flapping about like Hitler had been reincarnated as a moth, and was on his way to execute him for being ‘mothish’. Go AWAY from the light, moth, toward the breeze….nope, he is not getting it, preferring to be flapping around a light bulb, mms close to their death by scorchy lightbulb, cant help but follow the …sh*t *scorch*, I’m dead. Anyway, how was your day? Hey? Didn’t spend it flapping round a scorchy lightbulb till you died? No, but you would have preferred that to the day you did have. OK, I understand. To be honest, I feel genuinely as though I have THE worst parent deal this holiday. I have guests, kids on school holidays, and RAIN, not just ‘a light shower’ of it, bloody f*ck*ng shed loads of it, enough to drown a… fish…?

I.AM.OVER.DAILY.CAKE.BAKING.WITH. KIDS-HAVE MERCY, STOP THE RAINS!!!

It’s seriously no fun. I was actually nearly chest pumping myself in the mirror, after getting 4 kids, after not running an ounce of energy off for weeks, to sleep tonight, by 9.30 pm. What’s that about? the food shop was a genuinely glorious occasion-we got to go out.

Bumble, the cat, went to have his nuggets chopped off at the vets today. As Monty holds him in the car, he whispers into the box, stroking him reassuringly, ‘it’s alright, Bumble, you are going to the vets to have a little operation, you’re getting your nuggets chopped off, then it’s back home safe and sound !’ then pushes the lid firmly shut. And I hope he comes back less agressive. I am sure it’s him who sent Weetabix running off. He had become all territorial about the house, and was fending off Weetabix, his adoptive sister (sure it works the same with cats) and so she fled. I am gutted. Today, we deciede to go look for her, and I had quite honestly one of the most awful, upsetting experiences of my life. We go round, me the kids and dog, to various neighbours, asking them to keep an eye out, and had they seen, and so on, my cat. We approach  the neighbour on the corner, I go through the open gates, timidly and excuse myself to the older dude in a wheelchair. The minute he sees me, he starts shouting at me to get off his property, to leave, or he’d ring the police. I was astonished, asked to listen for a second, as in fact I was his neighbour, and we’d lost our cat, he carried on shouting abuse at me, and I was so shocked and upset, I started to cry, the kids ran round, clinging at my legs, all of them crying too, big gulpy, distraught tears, I tell him through my tears (which he screams after me still threatening me, telling me my tears are fake, you should have seen me, I was doing the hiccuppy thing and everything I had been so distraught, no ‘pretend’ tears here, b*****d), that he is inhuman, he should be ashamed of himself for being such a bully and a horrible person, that he thought it was OK to treat people in such a manner, and make 4 young children cry. And then Oliver made it all better…He sh*t right on his drive! Yey Oliver-you do have a purpose, bless ya! But I am still upset. I am a tiny little woman, I was with 4 little children and a soppy gay dog-how threatening?? So all in all, he is a hideous human being. But the problem was, the kids were so disturbed, they cried all the way back to the house. So I decided to try and help them understand what had happened. I explained how, even though he was a total looney, hateful, spiteful and all the rest, that we did not know what kind of life he had had, to actually behave like that to people like, in that instance, us, innocently asking if he’d seen our pet, there had to be something wrong. We should feel compassion. I read them a story out of my favourite ‘Buddha at Bedtime’ story book, which illustrated this perfectly. It calmed them all down at least, my poor little babies…

The sign the kids made for the ducks so they know where they live, Daisy, Minnie, and Posh and Beaks...

Their mother is, however, struggling with the compassion thing, and wanting to go and throw stuff at his house and let the wheels down on his wheel chair…Is that really wrong?

See you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x