theres a baby on the way.

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And it’s not mine.

The baby in question is the half-brother or sister of my son.

My ex has got his girlfriend of three and a half months, three months pregnant.

Very quick work by any ones standards. But, even worse when you consider that they are meant to be god fearing christians who do what the bible tells them.

This is a relationship that I was against from the start given the mess everyone’s lives was in during the time they got together.

I can’t help thinking that there is something majorly wrong for them to be expecting the baby around the time of my son’s birthday.

My son who’s going to be affected by this more than anything is so excited about their being a baby. He’ll make a wonderful big brother. He’s the most loving and caring child you could ever met, even after everything he has gone through in his short life.

So because of that I need to be positive about this.Which from where I’m sat is pushing things a bit too far.

This is a child who’ll be born to parents who don’t know the first thing about each other, who fell into bed as soon as they could. One of whom less than a week before the falling into bed happened said he didn’t think he could ever be mates with the other never mind anything else.

When my ex told me he said he knew that the news would upset me. But at the moment I just feel numb about it. My father who is the most pleasant person you could ever wish to met has stronger feeling on this issue then I do at the moment. He’s upset, disappointed and angry enough for the both of us at the moment.

My god mother said that this just shows how much of a bastard the man really is and how lucky I am to be out of a relationship with him now.

It’s true to say that he is no longer the man I fell in love with. Hell the fact that this womans pregnancy is nearly as far a long as the relationship has been happening says a lot.

I know for a fact that the other sexual relationships he has had only started after he had been with those people for at least four months.

I think the main thing that has hit me is how hard this is going to make my spending time with my son. Before this baby, I was promised that I would spend my son’s birthday with him and christmas. I don’t see how that will be happening now. That girl is going to be there for everything, that as far as I can see she has no right to be.

the main thing I feel about this is just numb. Theres nothing there for me to feel yet.

Even through out this whole thing i have loved this man. Before we got together he was my best mate. Throughout this whole mess i’ve not only lost the man i loved but my best mate as well. I dont believe that there could ever be a chance any more for us to even get that friendship back.

This woman has made sure of that. Not by getting up the duff. But, by making sure that she is always there whenever i have to deal with my ex, or see my son.

Either way i have six months to come to terms with this and try to sort things out so i can still be there for my sons birthdays and christmases.


Trying to be a professional writer


So for the past three years I’ve been writing and rewriting my first novel.

It’s a story that had plaugd me for years before I put pen to paper.

Growing up reading was one of my biggest pleasures and wanting to be a published writer was something i kept coming back to when asked what i wanted to be when I grew up. Along with dancer, teacher of various ages and subjects, actor and quite possibly the most outlandish of them all a singer. Its only outlandish because I cant sing a note. Which is a shame as i love to sing, alone in my room with the music turned right up. Or very loudly and badly when around a campfire.

So this novel I’ve been writing has been n the works for quite a while. When I finished the first draft I sent if off to some agents and got positive responses back. Well as positive as a rejection can be.

They all liked the idea behind it and the pacing of the story, only problem was as a supernatural vampire story it would be even more difficult than before to get it taken up by publishers. Fair enough. At the time I submitted it twilight was constantly in the top ten best sellers. The vampire fiction market was fully saturated.

But this book is still bugging me. Wanting to be out there for others to read. And hopefully one day it will be.

So in the mean time I’ve tried to write other types of stories. Crime, fantasy and romance.

One things for sure I’m no romance writer. Reading back over what I’ve written makes me wince, so those prototypes will never see the light of day.

Crimes a little easier to write but still some of the things I’ve written make me wince and are yet to be seen by other eyes. Theres something very therapeutic about writing a good murder scene. Even if no one else ever reads it. Only thing is most of the times the people who end up dying in all sorts of nasty and slow ways could quite reasonably be said to represent people in my life I’m having problems with.

So not a good idea when your writing fiction and trying to prove to the world that you’re a nice sane person. Plus it brings up some interesting legal issues. works of fiction aren’t meant to be based on life. So for the moment crimes off the list of genre too.

Which lives fantasy.

Something that is much harder to write then one may think.

My favourite example of fantasy is Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels. I’ve been reading them for years and will beg borrow or steal to get the latest one on its release day.

The reason I find his discworld novels so engrossing are the lengths he’s gone to, to make the world real. Theres so much back story and basic information about the things to be found there that many people all have the same idea about what things are like in his world. Theres not many books where that happens. Not even Harry Potter which has a lot of research backing it up.

The couple of short fantasy stories I have submitted to various people have all come back with the same comments. “I close my eyes and I feel like I can see you world, but the characters are too one-dimensional.”

All fair points. It’s so easy to get caught up in trying to make another world believable that you forget to make sure that the characters are believable too. The way they interact with each other and the world around them all helps to make the story believable and it doesn’t matter how well you describe the world if the people within it don’t grab your attention too.

Something i forgot before sending the stories off as I was so proud of being able to creat a believable world I didn’t check to make sure the people in it where up to the same standard of writing. Something I’ve hopefully rectified now and will start getting acceptances.

There are other ways of getting your work out there. For example Unbound. Which is a lovely website for airing your work. And it would be something i would maybe consider doing in the future. As things stand I wont be going through them. When my work is released for people to read I want it to be the best it can be. And to me that means getting an agent and then on to a Publisher where I can work with an editor to make it even better.

If someone is going to take the time out of their day to read my work I want it to be the best it can be, so when they finish it they feel like it wasnt a waste of their time and hopefully want to read more of my stuff.

Finding something I didnt know was lost.

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Friday night I died my hair for the first time in years.

And i feel great. I’ve gone from a very dark brown to a very dark red almost purple.  And I found after doing it and seeing the results that its something I was missing in my life.

I started dieing my hair when I was fourteen. Back then it was just getting it to be a few shades lighter then my natural colour. When i turned seventeen i started experimenting with colours after a few hits and misses I settled on a bright in your face red. I was that coulor untill i moved in my ex.

The last time I died my hair was when my son was three months old and it was to make my hair a brown close to my natural colour. Since then i’ve let the hair grow out and become its almost black brown.

Any one who knows me knows that my hair is a big part of who I am. For as long as I’ve been in charge of my hair its been long. Very long. The shortest i can ever remember having it is a couple of inches below shoulder length and not being hapy with it, as i thought it was too short. The longest i’ve had it is below my bum. That didnt stay for very long as i got fed up of sitting on it.

At the moment its about waist length and will more then likely stay that way till i’m old and very grey. Or i get together the balls to have it cut short so that the hair can go off to be made into a wig for charity.

I stopped dieing my hair cause my ex wasnt keen on me doing it, and liked it natural. It wasnt a lot for me to give up for the sake of being with the man i was going to marry. He gave up things for me too.

So i stopped expressing mysekf through my hair and got on with life. Only life got shit and I’m now with out my son and the man i was supposed to marry is now with someone else.

My threapist when i saw her on thursday asked what i liked doing as a way to express myself before i got together with the ex. I told her about dieing my hair and all teh colours i haev gone. And thre ones i would never go.

Pink and blonde are to pretty much the only colours i would never go. Pink because its not a colour i’m fond of and blonde because I have olive toned skin and it would just look stupid. I grew up with a naturaly blonde sister and best mate. Who are the oppisite ends of the blonde scale and both of their skins look paper white compared to mine, even in winter.

So the thearpist ordered me to die my hair over the weekend. We talked about it for a while as i wasnt sure its something i wanted to do.

However i did it and something inside clicked into place. I’d found something i didnt know i had lost. I’ve been on a bit of a high since i did it and nothing has been able to bring me down so far.

I know its not a lot and seems like nothing to a lot of people but i realise that i gave up a big part of myself when i stopped dieing my hair. I’ve taken a bit of contolr over my life back and it feels great.

I think the thearpist was right when she said that i was still chained to a rule my ex put upon me about dieing my hair. A rule i havent had to follow for a year.

Now i’ve done it i feel like i’ve taken a part of myself back from the me. A part he’ll never be able to take from me again. Its a small thing finding the part that was missing after being with someone for nearly five years and a way of getting my control back.

Who knows next time i may go blue.

It’ll be a while before i go bright red again. too many memories of the early days with the ex to go back to that colour just yet.

Growing older

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I’ve lived on the same street for most of my 24 and a half years.

And during that time very little has changed. Two thirds of the people who lived here when I was born are still here now.

Of the houses that have changed hands all but for of them have people living in them who moved in years ago and who I also know fairly well.

Our street was built-in the 60s and quite a few of the houses are still owned by the people who bought them as new builds. The house we live in has only two previous owners and my family have lived in it far longer than any one else. In a town that dates back to the Doomsday book it might not be that surprising in the grand scheme of things.

But in this day and age its a bit of a wonder. The average age of a resident in my town is mid sixties. People tend to move into the area as somewhere to retire by the sea.  Plenty of the large Victorian house have been turned into retirement flats. And none of them are ever empty for long. Even during the worse of the latest recession the flats where changing hands in a matter of weeks or months.

All that aside it suddenly struck me the other day that the people I grow up around or old. Not just in age, as they have always seemed old to me considering most of them are at least fifty years older than me,. But, old in the way they talk and act.

The fella across the street who as me and the few other kids on the street chased us off his garden after a ball landed there, is suddenly hobbling around on a cane, un able to mow his small patch of lawn in one go without having to take a break half way through.

The woman next door who is the noisiest woman you would ever meet, is now in her seventies and spends her days tending the small garden in front of her house watching the world go by. She only retired from her job six years ago, but even then she only worked at the garden center behind our houses.

I’m ashamed to say that if I see her outside her house if I can I pt off leaving the house till she’s gone back indoors. Shes a lovely woman but she will talk the hind legs off a donkey when she gets going.

One night the other week my father and I where coming home late after doing a weekly shop. she was walking the street looking for a missing cat. She stopped me to ask if I had seen the cat and an hour later I was still outside in the cold talking to her. Even though I and made attempts to get in and she said I should get in out of the cold.

My father who had put the entire shop away and made a snack thought it was funny that I was stuck talking to her and he had in his own words “dodged the built”.

Thankfully that cat turned up the next safe and sound, and most of the street have heard about it turning up at least three times since. As far as I am aware she doesn’t have any living family and so I try to be nice to her, but sometimes it’s just so damn hard to listen to the same handful of stories she has been telling for as long as I can remember.

At the bottom of our cul-de-sac is a couple who are the grandparents of someone I went to school with. I can neer remember their name just the name of their black labrador Bumper who’s been dead over ten years.

A few houses down lives someone who was one of the science technicians at the high school I attended. She retired the same year I left he school, but for the whole time I was there I had to make sure that I didn’t do anything to bad at school as I knew she would tell my mother before I had chance to get home. Even now when I see her she’ll remind me of something I did when at school and want to have a laugh over it. Mostly it’ll be over the company I kept at school. The way she tells it I had a different boyfriend every week or a group of boyfriends all at once.

At high school most of my mates where boys, none of us really fitted in with any of the other school clans so we tended to call our self the rejects and untill they demolished the old languages building we had a little sheltered corner we called rejects corner.

The whole time I was in high school I only had three boyfriends and those relationships never went ast kissing and hand holding. Quite innocent given what a lot of our peers where up to.

In my own house three of the family have moved out perminally. I tried to move out but well I ended up back after a gap of three years. My father is now nearly 61 and older than some of the neighbors where when I first came home from the hospital.

He’s now one of the old guys to the handful of kids who are living on the street now. The oldest of whom I can remember being brought home for the first time. At the grand old age of twenty-four that makes me feel old. She’s in  high school now and getting ready to choose her gcse options. I’ve watched her grow into a beautiful young woman who has the boys including my brother lusting after her, just waiting for her to become legal before they make a move.

Although they will have to go through her over protective 18-year-old half-brother who moved on to our street nearly four years before she was born. A handy play mate for my brother who at just a year older than him was more than happy to have a boy help balance out the play of two older sisters.

So thats the short story of my street growing older, and what it has meant. How over nearly quarter of a centuray it hasnt changed much. Any one from 25 years ago would reconise it as it is today and most of the people living on our street. All be it older and frailer then they where back then.

Hell even now I’m just an old person to the kids living on the street. Just another adult who might want to tell them they cant do something, or be quite or get the hell off the street. It doesnt bother my father or i if balls get kicked into the garden. The plants there have already survived twenty odd years of balls and worse hitting them. If they where going to die from that they would have done it years ago.


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In the commercialised world that we live in to-day most people have forgotten the true meaning of Easter.

Today we buy Easter egg, have egg hunts at we and generally eat more chocolate in a short amount of time then we probably will for the rest of the year. We can go into almost any shop and find eggs and cards, soft bunny toys and chicks. Theres very few shops where you can find anything to do with the reason we celebrate Easter.

It’s a sad fact of life and something that we have allowed to happen.

Easter is one of the main foundations of the christian faith. It represents the time when Jesus died on the cross and was raised from the grave for our sins.

By coming back from the dead he proved that he is the son of god, with the power to forgive us for sinning and give us hope and faith in god and his good nature.

As a sign of his raising again christians are given the chance to start over again once a year. The slates wiped clean and there’s a chance to do things differently, better for you and those you love.

The hollow eggs we eat at this time of year are meant to represent the empty tomb that greeted Mary Magdalene and one or more women. The gospels don’t agree on the number of women but they all do agree that christ appeared to Mary and instructed her to go to the disciples  and pass on word of his Resurrection.

During the time that jesus spent on the cross, his time in the tomb and his resurrection are all heavily linked with women, most of all Magdalene. I’m not going to go into what sort of relationship they could have had for her to play a big part in his death and resurrection, or that she was the first he appeared to. That’s a topic for another post.

But it does show that jesus loved the women in his life just as much as the men and trusted them to pass on the message that he was risen. It also showed that he had faith his male followers would listen to the women and believe them. Something which many within the christian faith have forgotten. By saying that jesus only trusted the men to pass on his message they miss one of the main points of Christianity. Jesus loved us all equally. Trusted the men and women in his life the same and hell it wasnt a woman who betrayed him, but someone of his own sex.

There is strong evidence that the reason jesus is refered to as the lamb of god has a lot to do with the time of year he was crucified. His death happened during the jewish festival of passover and the last supper was most probably a passover meal.

The fact that he used unleavened bread to symbolise his body tells us that his death accord during passover, the time where jews eat unleavened bread.

Any way at the time of his death Jews would sacrifice lambs as part of the rituals of passover. This would happen between two evenings, mainly at twilight on the friday. Which is when Jesus is said to have died.

Easter tends to move around a lot as is celebrated on the first sunday after a full moon after the spring equinox. A complicated way of working it out I know. But hey it’s not as bad as celebrating Jesus’ birth months after it happened. Again a topic for another post.

So as you tuck into your chocolate and lay a hunt for the kids, spare a thought for the reason why we have this day for chocolate. And remember if you’re a member of the church of england Easter Sundays is one of the three Sundays you’ve promised to attend when you got confirmed.

Or you could just watch which ever service the tv has on whilst you munch away like I will more than likely be doing.

Not being able to have kids.

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I have one son who I have spoken about in earlier posts.

The chances are he will be my only child. Which is something that I never thought would happen. I always thought that i would have a handful kids. I love kids and enjoy being around them as they experience things and seeing the wonder in their faces when they do something new.

Because of something that happened a couple of years ago I find myself in a position when I can’t bring myself to even think about having another child.

Two years ago my son was taken from my care by social services. after a long court battle my ex who at the time this all happened I was still with and planning to marry got sole care of my son after we agreed to spilt up.

At the court session I was told that I would only be allowed to see my son under supervised conditions for just a few hours a month. This is because I failed my son by getting ill and not providing the sort of living environment that he needed. During this time I feel I wasnt given the help I need to be the mother that my son needs. Even after I asked for help and tried hard to do the things that help set out for me.

Hell even two years after this all started social services still havent got my name and date of birth right. I mean how hard is it to make sure that a name and date of birth are right. It took nearly a year to get them to admit that i wasnt brought up in a single parent household in the area i was living in at the time and that the man i was engaged to really was my sons biological father. Bit hard for him not to be considering that he was the only man i had slept with for two years before my son was born. Hell un like a lot of people out there i have only slept with two people in my entire life. both of whom i was oin a long term relationship with. Not because of religious reasons. More because i brought up to believe that taking taht last intimate step is something you should only do when you really care about someone and are planning on being with them for a long time.

According to socail services this makes me niave and inexperince. How the hell can not sleeping around be turned into a bad thing?

At the same session I was told that from now on till I die I will have a note on my medical records that means that if I ever get pergant social services will be informed. This is something that will hang over me for life and will have to disclose to anyone I may be starting a relationship with.

It’s not something that I could hold off telling someone till I was sure that we could go the distance. Thats just not fair on that person. So they would need to be told as soon as it was clear that there was something between us. Thats a lot to put on someone. And hope that they can deal with it. I’m not sure that I could deal well with it if I was on the receiving end of news like that.

This order waput on my records fairly quickly which i found out when i went to the doctors after suffering a misscarriage. Since i had lost the child there wasnt any need for socail to find out. Yes up until recently i was still sleeping with my ex as i believed thatthere was a chance we could still be a proper family with our son.

He recently realy hurt me when he told me he had started a relationship with a new girl and that he had been looking for a way out of our relationship even before socail got involved. Which let me tell you was news to me. Theres no way in hell i would have carried on sleeping with him if i knew he felt that way. Hell he hasnt even traded me in for a better model. she’s younger then me but every one agrees i am the better looking and thinner. The main comment about her i have heard is she looks like the back end of a bus and has a not very nice personilty.

I went off the rails and caused probs for him and this girl. Even calling the police on this girl after hearing some concerning stuff about her from my son. It turns out that there was nothing to it and after a few days suspended from her work things are back to normal for her. Do i feel guilty? Not at all. I was merely trying to look after my son from a postion of not knowing this girl and only going off what my son told me about her.

Not being in a good mental place before this happened due to depression i prob way over reacted. And because of that and the results of doing what i thought was best for my son, all be it missguided i am in a worse place then i was and things are pretty bleak right now.

There will always be a part of me that loves my ex. He helped create the most amazing child in the world. But there will always be a part of me that hates him for allowing things to get out of control by working away from home when he knew i wasnt coping well. Leading me on and dropping me like a piece of rubbish when some girl bats her lashes at him. And even hearing through the grape vane that he doesnt believe i have the misscarriage. He wont even talk to me about it anymore as we “dont have the emotional connection” thats needed to do so any more.

He’s moved on with his life and is now with a girl who’ll be able to give him as many kids as they want witout any problems.

Yes i hate her because of that. And the fact that she has taken everything away from me that my ex promised. all within a sort space of time.

I cant help how i feel about her.

Just like i cant help the fact that any future partner of mine will have to deal with me not being able to give him kids with out there being a question mark over if we get to bring them up ourselves.

I couldn’t put someone else through that. Having to go through having every part of your life examined by people who are looking for a reason to take your child away from you. The possiblity of that child being taken away. what sort of life ould that child have. spending the first god knows how long being a ward of the state while the court waits for socail services to tell it what to do.

Knowing that they would have to ave been a super man to deal with the baggage i come with and the fact that they will never ever be number one in my heart. That place belongs only to my son, and takes up so much of my love i dont know if i have any left over for someone else.

Just how badly would it effect the child i already have? Knowing that there is a brother or sister growing in mummys tummy and then being told that they cant meet them because some cold hearted witch came and took the baby away as soon as it was out of mummys tummy.

Just how badly would the stress i would be going through effect the baby as it grows within me. Would it cause complications for the baby? Could the stress of the situation result in another child?

It wouldnt be fair to put anyone through that. even more so the child i already have. the one who didnt ask for this to happen and doesnt understand why mummy and daddy arent together anymore, why he cant spend more time with mummy or call her when ever he wants to.

God only knows what the future may hold. But for me it more then likely holds never having a true relationship with someone again and growing old having only hjad one child who by a twist of fate and the innterferance of socail services is being brought up in a broken home whilst he father brings other women into his life.