PSF Momma's Boy

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek


J1's dad stepped out of our lives when I was only 5 months pregnant. The story is too long as to why or who was at fault, but believe me, it took two to destroy that relationship-- not three as sometimes a child will try to believe.

When our son was 7, Deadbeat cautiously became Dad, although it was from a distance and with a new wife at his side. Being from a very small town, I heard every doubt, criticism and frustration J1's dad and his wife muttered, but the one that stands out in my mind was, "I don't believe Deadbeat's really his father-- he's NOTHING like Db", meaning that my son who had grown up in a single parent home didn't act like his father. Db hunted. He lived for being drawn in any hunt lottery. He had thousands of dollars worth of guns and the sportiest vehicles to carry them in.
In contrast, I was scraping by. There was one low point when we didn't have enough money for toilet paper, so my bathroom was stocked with those little purse-packs of tissue that places gave away. Me and the little guy read. a lot. The library was our outings. We spent time together laughing, singing and acting out movie roles. We went to school theatrical performances (cheaper).

When my university degree was nearly finished. I splurged one Christmas to take J1 to see Phantom of the Opera. He was enamoured and vowed to be on a stage like that one day. That's where the ugly comment came from. J1 was too "artsy" to really have come from his dad. (!)

13 years later, Deadbeat's guns have been stolen and he works long hours. I think he leases his vehicles now.

J1 has developed my eye for beauty around him. He loves taking pictures. While he was here, that was the primary thing we did together. We drove through the countryside talking and stopping on a dime to catch the right light hitting farmland.



We traipsed all over London at night so that he could get a panoramic shot of the London Eye and Parliament.



I will treasure that time and I took plenty of shots of him taking photos to keep it fresh in my mind.

Ooga Aga Ooga Aga

I can't stop this feelin'-- wait, that's not what this post is about.

This is your basic "All About My Aga" post that I know everyone has been sitting on the edge of their computers waiting for.

Everything you ever wanted to know about an Aga-- it's here folks, look no further. (ok, maybe Google was your better option)
Some of you said you'd never heard of it before. Don't hang your head in shame, the first one I ever saw was in a small cottage with a tiny kitchen and this monstrous beast-looking thing was taking up precious oven room. Didn't I look stupid when I asked if the landlord would be removing it before we moved in. He informed me that it was "the bee's knees" and people really wanted them.

I hate looking stupid, so I researched and he was right. I wanted one. There are Americans over here complaining that they can't get theirs to work properly, or that they can't figure theirs out ...but it's because they didn't take the time to learn about their cool toy. I did and am TOTALLY enjoying mine.

First of all, an Aga is a cast iron monster that can set you back about £9000.00 for a really good one. Since it's cast iron, your foods cook evenly and the moisture isn't lost.

It is on all of the time, you don't shut it off when you're finished cooking. Leaving it on actually uses LESS fuel than an average stove/oven because no heat is lost (your average oven has to keep reheating to maintain an even temperature).
The Aga is like a traditional baker's brick oven, producing wonderful biscuits and featherlight pastries.

The one I have has two ovens. One is a roasting oven, using a higher temp to cook roasts (28 pound turkey can cook in about 3 hours) and a simmering oven for steaming fish or stewing meats or slow cooking. I can move things from one oven to the other rather than turning the heat down or up as I need it.













There's two hot plates, same theory. The intense heat allows water to boil almost instantly on one and after I've reached that boil, I move the pan to the other to let it simmer. This morning I made scrambled eggs for breakfast burritos while I heated the tortillas on the other. Several pots or pans can be placed on each plate at the same time. Only a portion of the pan needs to be on the plate to still get great results.



Since the Aga is always on, the kitchen stays warm and inviting.

Brilliant. I love this thing. I did tell the Hubby that the Air force is going to have a really hard time getting me out of here. I may tie myself to it.

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OTHER NEWS

The move went really well and our new house is starting to look homey-- a very cluttered chaotic homey. Our first couple of days in here, it snowed and then the UK was hit with an arctic blast. I waited for 15 minutes at the kids' bus stop in -9c weather, only to discover that the bus couldn't get through because of a road closure.

And finally, thank you for your support these last few days. I've decided to postpone the lobotomy for now. I can't tell you how much I appreciated your comments and reassurances that I am not alone with the current parenting stage I am in.

Thank you!

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Emotions are draining.
I'm wondering if there's a prescription to numb feelings. Or maybe lobotomies are still available?

It's 6 am and I just waved my oldest off into the frosty darkness for his travel back to the U.S.
I'm teetering between sobbing on my keyboard or cooking breakfast for the other kids before they return to school today at the end of their Christmas holiday.

There's a Risk board set up on our dining table that sits there as a reminder of things that weren't and I'm not ready to dismantle it. I'm not ready to look at the territory cards my son held in his hand (with gleeful thoughts of destroying our armies) for fear I might discover this could have been his year to win (a good thing since I usually slaughter everyone with dumb luck). It's tradition in our house to play Lord of the Rings Risk for New Year's Eve, but this year, we were moving on the 2nd and so even though the game remain unpacked, the table wasn't available.

J1 hovered around, very unhelpfully, questioning when the game would begin and I explained that the minute we got into the new place it would go up. It didn't. It did go up Sunday, but he was in rare form with his insults and impatience and when I tried explaining to him that he was going to need to learn to have more tolerance for other people, he started spouting off how we criticise him all of the time and he's tired of it. I was finished with him and the game.

And so it sat.

All day yesterday.
When my Husband got up and left the house early Monday morning on our last day together as a family, it set me off. He returned with tools to drill holes in walls and caulk for tubs and windows... and proceeded to work despite my protests.

The game taunted me from the dining area.

I could also hear in my head, my son (on Friday night), "I haven't really had any time with Dad-- what's going on on Monday?"

By 3.30 I had a washer and dryer hooked up, but I never wanted to see my husband again. His deployment couldn't begin quickly enough. I watched the clock like a woman on death row and despaired as the only sunshine we had (for the 2 1/2 weeks while J1 was here) slowly faded into dusk.
In all fairness to the Hubby, there was all of the time before that last day that a very reclusive man-child wasted. His appearance rarely happened before 11 so he never had breakfast with us. He complained of boredom while we packed and even while there were people hauling things into our house for us. He chose not to attend church with us ("no one ever woke me up"), not even for the Christmas Carol service. He was completely self-absorbed and pining for his girlfriend. I wanted to get a family shot of us outside of a castle or other English heritage site, but he said "I'm not interested in buildings". He had in his mind the things he wanted to do and most of them didn't include his siblings.

There was laughter. There were good times, but not as many as there should have been for that length of time.

So you can imagine the state of my emotions as I stood in the darkness with icy crunching under my feet and watched the car tail lights fade from view. The regrets of things that never were. The photos we never took, the fun we never had, the game we never played. Wasted sunshine. Wasted moments.

I want to crawl back into my bed and pull the covers up, but there's four little faces that are going to come downstairs in a moment. Faces that will be excited to begin school again to see their friends. Faces that will bravely try not to cry that their brother is gone again.
Love stinks.

I'll take that lobotomy now.

She's Baaack and Whinging in the New Year

Some people try to make themselves hard to love.

You may know one...
Someone who is negative.
Sarcastic.
Sometimes caustic.

Any sane person would distance herself from someone like that...
From someone who can drain the fun right out of Disney World with their intolerance,
arrogance, or prejudices.

What do you do when they're family though?

I believe we have unconditional love in our family, but my oldest would tell you we don't. He'd tell you we only criticise him (which is NOT true, I have holes in my tongue from biting it all of the times he needed a good telling off during his stay).

He is a brilliant, talented, creative individual who is currently sporting a massive chip on his shoulder. I hope this is just a stage.
Is there a stage called "Terrible Twenties"?

Here's to 2009!

The next time you hear from me, I will be broadcasting from our new place. We'll be without internet *gasp* until the 5th, at which time I intend to play catch up. If there's a particular post you'd like me to read, please email me the link or leave it in the comments.

*since I began this post, Hubby talked to BT and they're predicting our original hookup-- maybe as early as tomorrow!

My little boy is finally playing today. That was one nasty sick spell he had. It was like he went through three different illnesses. Thanks for your concern and kind thoughts.

2008 sucked.

Fine, I guess it's in all in the perspective one sees it. I could dwell on the fact that I lost a good friend (two actually because when the husband died, the wife I knew went as well), a sweet neighbor and a beloved uncle. I could focus on the blues that I just couldn't shake completely, or the homesickness that crept up out of nowhere and kicked me in the buttocks.

Or

I could give thanks for the miracle or waking up to my family each day; that we have the finances we need to bring our oldest to us for the holidays; for the convenience of email (to keep in touch with our parents and my Hubby when he's out playing in the middle east), and blogs.

It was a good year in the fact that I have made some amazing friendships with people I would otherwise have never met. It was a good year because our country remains free and optimistic and there's still a few countries that love and respect it.
Through the tragedy of Dave's death, our circle of friends here has grown tighter and more intimate. He'd like that.



So, 2008 was not all parties and laughs. I'm glad to see it go and look forward to this next year with great expectations.


I don't set New Year's goals, but do consider changes that could be made in my life.
For instance, there won't be weight loss goals, but I do want to live healthier.
I want to sing and dance more. I want to play more, entertain more and and see more England. I don't think that's too unrealistic...

How was 2008 for you? Anything you'd like to shake off? What would you like to see happen in 2009?