Its Dylans birthday on the 3rd of March, he is 6. I know its a cliche but I really do wonder where the time has gone.

Last night we were "discussing" the plans for his birthday party.

Its a pirate theme, unbeknownst to him I have organised for Captain Raggy Beard to come and join us. He was pretty specific about certain things

1. No girls!
2. he has invited 8 friends, 8 is a good pirate number.
3. He wants a cake in the shape of a treasure map - thanks to Becka Seal I can provide this.
4. He wants games, several we made up last night, I'm not sure I remember to rules to "blow up the shark" but I'm hoping Capn. R. Beard will be entertain him enough to forget this one.
5. He wants a plank, for adults (who have to also come dressed up) to walk when they are being naughty!
6. He wants a shark - I put my foot down on this one, we settled for stuffed crocodiles!
7. Oh, did he mention NO GIRLS!

Then this morning, after talking to Becks about the cake I went in to let him know the treasure map would be ok. "hmm mummy" he said, "perhaps we should have invited Mia and Alex, Alex would be a good pirate boy." 

"Ok", said I, "but Mia is a girl and you definitely said no girls".

Deep thought ensued, then his face lit up with his 'Ive got it smile'. "Thats ok mummy, cause she will come with cake".

Boys!

Sleep really is the answer to all my problems.

I've had two nights of drug induced sleep, and I'm not saying this works for everyone, but I feel great. This week, my week off from Sing and Sign, I've had a cold, a sore throat, an ear infection and generally felt like a piece of chewing gum on the bottom of someone's shoes.

Dylan left for Keefe's on Wednesday, and I spent the day cleaning - just the usual household chores. I could have done something wonderful like walking along the beach, going into Northumberland, read a book that enlightened me, but life still goes on and my floors really did need cleaning.

So one Wednesday night I combined two tablets I've been prescribed to help me sleep, but were not working on their own and bam! - sleep!, 9 hours of sleep. No dreaming, no flashbacks, no pondering on the minutiae of life at 3am in the morning. I woke yesterday morning and found that I had some energy, something I've been missing in the mornings. Once again I chose to ignore the wonders of outside and did the ironing, yeah I know, but I like ironing so it was a bit of a stress buster for me.

The day passed with my ear ache recurring and I cancelled a Sing and Sign class, it made me feel crap, so to boost my mood I changed the beds, cleaned my windows and scrubbed the bathroom till it sparkled. Then I run a really hot bath, took my drugs and read for an hour... no sleep. I read for a further hour and then I woke up this morning at 3.30. Turned off the light, put down my book and then went back to sleep. I woke again at 7.15 and since then I've not stopped. But I did sit down just now with a bacon omelette a cup of coffee and listened to the radio! Kairos moments!

Sleep oh Sleep, where art though sleep!

Its been three weeks now and Im running on empty. I go to bed at a sensible time, following a nice bath, I dont eat before I go to bed. I have a cool room, and Im fairly relaxed. I read, nothing too thought provoking or taxing on my brain.

And I fall to sleep!

All well and good, yes!

No!

Somewhere between 1 and 1.30am I wake up. Im wide awake, not just sleepy awake that comes with needing the toilet or hearing a strange noise. Not even dream/flashback awake, recovering from burning again. But wide  awake. I stay wide awake till somewhere between 4.28 and 4.32, yes somewhere between those four crusical minutes my brain shuts down and Im asleep again.

Which would be great if Dylan didnt wake up between 5.45 and 6.30.

Im running on empty, Im crabby, Im resorting to drinking - although its not so much a resort as a way of living now. But Im making mistakes, stupid ones that impact on my daily life. Not being able to find the keys, that I had put in the door. Forgetting to call people back, or calling people back when I had just spoke to them. Or the best one by far, walking round the house all night being quiet so as not to wake Dylan and being able to assist my neighbour at night time because Dylan was in bed. Then going up stairs to say goodnight to him, and remembering that he was at my mum and dads.

Im going to make an appointment to see the Dr. Its not normal, its not how I want to be, I want a tablet! Several nights of tablets. I want to wake up with the Disney birds and butterflys chirping me awake! It used to be like that, why did it change?

Heaven

Just had a conversation with Dylan and his friend Michael about Heaven.

Apparently you go there when your dead. Right!

You can stay there for 100 weeks and then come back if your really good.

You meet your family who is deaded and only really angry people go to bad heaven!

Looks like I might be going to bad heaven!

Thanks Steven. Im so far away from this its like comparing chalk to cheese.

But it did make me laugh!

Tap, Tap, Tap

Hello the world.

This used to be something I did to try and figure stuff out. It used to be a way of venting and procrastinating and generally keeping in touch.

My counsellor says I should write things down, so I'm writing. It may not get better than this, but I am going to attempt to update the last 9 months, some will be diary entries I wrote in the hospital, some will be stuff I wrote since.....since the second fire, since hospitalisation, since depression, since getting better....

That's a lot to blog. But hopefully some of it will make sense.

Ahh the Summer Holiday.

They come round each year and each year we look at them with trepidation, joy and lets face it panic.

Six weeks of your child at home, six weeks of entertaining them, of cleaning up after them, attempting to appease fights "Im not your friend anymore" and ensuring that they still have a routine of sorts, eat well and dont drive you into crazy mummie screaching and threats of "Your grounded till Christmas".

We have had some lovely play dates, which generally ended with a very tired Dylan screaming that he hated who ever he was playing with and "I never want to see them again". Joy!

He has had friends from the estate in to play and wreak havoc on the house.

Sometimes its a joy and yes, sometimes it isn't.

We visited Shaun and Joji

and went to a farm - Walby Farm which was fun, especially getting lost in the Maize Maze.

We climbed hills

Chillaxed

and Rock Scrambled.

It was a lovely couple of days, but Dylan was wearisome and made things hard. Why doesnt he appreciate days out, or play dates. I question if he gets too much, are we spoiling him with love?

On our departure he wouldn't kiss Shaun and Joji goodbye, I knew this was really because he didn't want to say goodbye, but it made me so mad. He seemed so unappreciative of all that had been done for him, so rude! I found myself in the car reading him the riot act "There are lots of children who didn't get to go to a farm, or weren't taken out, you don't appreciate anything, that's it, next week you get nothing, no trips to the park, no friends over" - yadda, yadda.

He fell asleep, tears staining his face and I screamed at myself "He's Five"....