Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 80 Comments

Exploding kettle

You know it’s going to be a long day when you wake up as a zombie. You stumble into the kitchen. You switch on the kettle. Then you get a bright flash and a deafening bang. The kettle joins the long line of broken appliances. A nice cup of cold water doesn’t quite cure zombieism as well as a dark brooding cup of coffee sludge. So we struggle on in a permanent haze.

Simple work tasks suddenly became modern day Rubik cube tortures.

Attaching a new belt to the hoover – a five minute job usually turned out to be as difficult as splitting an atom.

Trying to organise a few appointments for our son – might as well have been trying to schedule the next Guns and Roses World Tour.

Trying to activate my new Bank Card over the phone was equivalent of trying to authenticate nuclear launch codes.

A simple freeze wrap food parcel took on the same properties as Adamantium. My lunch wasn’t going to get consumed today.

Unbelievably the sun made an appearance for two hours this afternoon. Just enough time to take the dog for a reasonably dry walk and cut the the grass. Only just enough time. Sat looking at a unresponsive lawnmower for thirty minutes. The last ten of those minutes involved a carefully selected fault finding approach involving a hammer and my boot. Eventually the penny dropped and I realised that it would actually help if I inserted the 36v battery into the cordless mower. As I get older I become more like Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig. Luckily I just about finished the lawn before the weather closed in. The next rain event has now arrived. Looking at the forecast the next lawn cutting window is probably well into 2020.

So today was a bit of a write off. Strangely microwaved coffee doesn’t seem to taste so good. Boiling water on the oven just takes too long – sorry mum and dad. So tomorrow will start with another cup of cold water. Then it’s an urgent trip to the shops for a non exploding kettle.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 93 Comments

Fathers Day

It was Fathers Day in the UK yesterday. Even in Yorkshire. Let’s give a shout out to the Dads. Yes we are in most cases crap at multitasking, dammed annoying, often in the way but we are sometimes useful….. In my case I am still waiting.

So Sunday’s Dad List in this case was

  • Make breakfast – burnt and milk out of date
  • Housework – managed to get the sofa throw stuck in the hoover and snapped the last hoover belt
  • Clothes washing – washing machine stuck on the 10 minute pre wash cycle so not exactly clean so needed to run the cycle 5 times
  • Make lunch – criminally couldn’t get the Yorkshire Puddings to rise
  • Take dog for walk – dog rolled in sheep poo so he stinks
  • Bath dog – then spend an hour trying to dry out the house after the dog started shaking himself down. Aquaman has nothing on him.
  • Pack School Bag – went without incident but will only find its success when he gets back home
  • Time for some me time – made a coffee to sit outside as it’s unbelievably stopped raining, but find a large bird has crapped over the garden chair. Clean chair then find it’s started to rain again. Cold coffee looking out at a monsoon.
  • Change bedding – ok apart from a brutal wrestling match with duvet cover
  • Cook Tea – salad is pretty much Dad proof
  • Wash up – managed to smash one cup
  • Iron school uniform – find that I forgot about the wash in the washing machine. So set off a quick Tumble Dryer run
  • Revise for school end of year tests – another opportunity to show the processing power differences between a young vibrant mind and a knackered old one
  • Run bath – find someone forgot to wash the towels
  • Iron school uniform – presentable but managed to burn my hand
  • Lock doors – not easy when you can’t find the keys
  • Catch up on Work – not easy when laptop decides it needs yet another update
  • Go to bed – can’t sleep

That’s a pretty typical Sunday. So yes Dads can be crap but we also can be busy. Ok that in my case is busy being crap – but it’s still busy. As it’s Fathers Day I will give myself a pat on the back for that. I survived another day.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 89 Comments

Crop Circles

You can’t beat a good crop circle. Such intricate geometric patterns. These aliens are clearly very artistic with boundless amounts of patience. It’s kinda reassuring to know that the earth is clearly the preferred canvas of choice for alien art.

Unfortunately something is a clearly amiss with the Yorkshire Crop Circles.

Have the aliens that visit Yorkshire been indulging in too much Newcastle Nuclear Brown Ale or Black Sheep Holy Grail Ale.

Or are the Yorkshire Aliens the Galaxy’s avant-garde pioneers. No intricate geometric patterns here. Or maybe it’s the weather. You can imagine an alien more at home in fertile hospitable climes saying something like this as he is starting his Yorkshire Crop Circle in the pouring rain

“Bugger this for a lark let’s get it done as quick as possible then we are out of here”

When I told this story to our son he just looked at me with that look… thought for a few seconds then said.

“Dad why on earth would an alien fly all those billions of light years to do a bit of art then fly back again. You need to look for the rational explanation. Clearly we have some mighty big field mice these days”

Clearly the all too common stereotype that autistic people do not have a sense of humour is clearly true which thus means we need a much bigger cat….

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 105 Comments

Moody

It’s been one of those days. Lack of sleep, work piling up, house falling to bits, nothing seeming to go to plan. Mood level – somewhere between not great and moody. This photograph sorta sums it up.

Well Son went to school for the first time since he had his accident at school last week. He was still in a lot of pain but we decided to give it a go. Dosed up on child painkillers he was dropped off. School given clear instructions to contact me immediately if he was struggling with the pain and I would pick him up.

No phone call came from school so I assumed things went ok. If only.

Apparently during his first lesson the pain started to get worse. At the end of the lesson the class teacher noticed he was struggling and he was told to get his bag and go to reception. Reception then sent him to see a senior teacher – a teacher who has had no contact with our son previously. Son told him the circumstances, that he was struggling with pain and the instructions I had given school. The teacher went onto the computer and after a few seconds said something like

“You have had a lot of time off. Your attendance record is too poor for you to be sent home. Go to reception get some painkillers and then go to your next lesson.”

So he stayed in school, in pain and in his words not able to concentrate on any of his lesson.

Mood level now – pissed off.

Yes his attendance record has dropped below 95% – a Government target. Yet that’s because he has had two accidents AT SCHOOL which have required hospital intervention and medically approved time off. Take those out and his record is just about 100%.

So it appears that if attendance drops below 95% then regardless of pain level or illness, a child will not be sent home. However a child with an attendance over 95% would be sent home. Apparently today a girl fell over and hurt her knee. She was in tears and clearly in a lot of pain but was not sent home due to her attendance record. Yet a boy who had a sore throat was sent home because they had a good attendance record.

Mood level now – Apoplectic.

So tomorrow I will drop off son and then demand to see the Headteacher. The only reason I’m not doing it now is that son wants me to calm down as he doesn’t trust me at the moment. That is probably a really good call.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 119 Comments

Tell me why

In my voice – Tell me why

  • My partner was taken from us when she was so young.
  • The system continually fails our son.
  • The Government can find billions to bribe other parties to keep it in power but can’t find the money to fund education support for the kids who need it.
  • I don’t sleep anymore.
  • They say the world is getting smaller yet I feel so isolated.
  • Chocolate has so many blooming calories.
  • Hair doesn’t like growing on my head yet it sprouts like an Amazonian Forest on the back of the my hands.
  • The cat continually finds a way into the wardrobe.
  • I can’t find any socks in this house.
  • They never made a Captain Scarlet movie.

In our son’s voice – Tell me why

  • My mum had to die.
  • Both my grannies had to die.
  • My hamster had to die.
  • My girl cat who was like a sister to me had to die.
  • I can’t read.
  • Some people think I am stupid just because I am autistic and dyslexic.
  • Shops have to be so busy.
  • Hazard is leaving Chelsea.
  • Do people have to kiss in films.
  • Marvel Movies are way better than DC Movies.
  • Most kids don’t like rock music.
  • Broccoli wasn’t deemed an inedible plant.
  • My Dad can’t cook.
  • In our dogs voice – Tell me why
      • I get shouted at for pinching socks.
      I get shouted at for digging holes.
      I get shouted at for eating garden tools.
      I get shouted at for eating garden furniture,
      I get shouted at for digging up plants.
      I get shouted at for burying stuff like socks.
      I get shouted at for pulling bits of the apple tree off.
      I get shouted at for escaping.
      I get shouted at for climbing in the hedge.
      I get shouted at for eating cat poo, cow poo, sheep poo.
      I get shouted at for pinching food.
      My best friend isn’t with us anymore. I know I am a dog but she was a really cool cat.

    In our boy cats voice – Tell me why

    • My sister isn’t with us anymore.

    • My best friend, the really lovely woman has gone. I miss siting on her lap.
    • I get shouted at for missing the cat litter by several feet.
    • I get really shouted at for missing the litter by so many feet I hit the wall.
    • I get shouted at for sitting in front of the TV when a movie is on.
    • I get shouted at for sneaking into the wardrobe and getting white hairs on all the black clothes.
    • I get shouted at for falling in hot plates of food.
    • I get shouted at for always tripping people up.
    • I get shouted at for sleeping on the laptop.
    • I get shouted at for sleeping on the toaster.

    In our gerbils voice – Tell me why

    • We don’t live in a toilet roll factory.
    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 98 Comments

    Confession time

    I need to come clean about something. A secret I have hidden from all but my closest family, friends and postman. Darkness personified. Please don’t be too upset with me.

    I have a beard.

    There you go I’ve admitted it now.

    It’s a recent thing. Not as if I was born with it. I was born with a mass of black curly hair. Was almost called Jimmy after rock guitarist Jimmy Hendrix. Yes born with his hairstyle. A few years later I would have been named Brian after another rock guitarist. In the end I was named after an actor who played in many cowboy movies without a beard.

    When the beard started our son never mentioned it. Well not until he told someone working at a ticket office that his dad was trying to get a job with ZZTOP.

    Trust me it’s not that long….

    I understand the technical term is a short beard. A number 1. Rather aptly I had to re-type short as my first attempt replaced the or with an i.

    It’s funny in the 17 years I was with my partner the subject of beards only came up once. That was on a French TGV speed train. So I don’t know if the beard would be fondly stroked or would produce a Paddington Bear like stare followed by the words “shave it now”.

    Is it time for the beard to go. I’ve decided that I am now even less likely to be mistaken for George Clooney.

    It’s never going to happen. Take George’s beard and transplant it on the back end of a Honey Badger. That’s what we are dealing with.

    So maybe it’s time to say goodbye.

    But our son is now not keen to say goodbye to it. This is an amazing turnaround as a few years back on a French train the guard had a beard. As he walked down the packed carriage our young son stood up, pointed at the beard and shouted “he’s got rabies”. By the look on the guards face that was three words of English he fully understood.

    Now as part of his strategy to save the beard he has named it. As everyone knows if you name something it suddenly gets protected status. So what do I do now.

    By the way the beard is now name Mr Crimble….

    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 65 Comments

    Alone

    Complete white out. Zero vision. Your boots constantly struggling to find grip on the sheet ice. All you can hear is the wind howl and your rasping breathe. Somewhere to your right are bone breaking crags, to your left a 200 feet sheer drop. Holding the ice axe waiting for the inevitable fall. The trail has disappeared. The map is useless. The compass won’t give an accurate reading. Alone. Are you too far right or god help you …. too far left. Too late to turn back. Your only guide is to follow the sharp slope upwards to the summit.

    The delights of winter mountaineering. Or is a metaphor for life. Disorientation, lost, no idea where your going, unattainable goals, alone, no plan, fear and panic.

    Then hope. A kind word. A caring hand in the dark. Brief enlightenment.

    The clouds briefly part. The beautiful mountain summit reveals itself. You survived that crisis. Panic subsides. Your pounding heart starts to ease. The break in the clouds is short lived. But you have a path. You have a direction. You have hope. The climb continues.

    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 55 Comments

    More school days like this

    We have had some big anxiety attacks and tough times recently so it’s nice to have a stress free post.

    “Dad I shared a desk with a ladybird today. He watched a bit of history with me.”

    It’s always good to get close to nature. Especially when you are at school.

    “I wish all school days could be this good”

    The school has a system that everyday a pupil is taken out of classes and assigned to school reception. Basically for the day they deliver messages, photocopy stuff and do admin tasks. It’s supposed to broaden their horizons. Today was our son’s turn. It certainly broadened his.

    “Basically every so often I would deliver a message to a teacher. It was funny when the receptionist asked me to deliver a message to a teacher and the teacher was stood at reception. I delivered it without moving. Then I had to deliver a message about a kid who couldn’t come in today as he had come down with flu – he said he was doing this yesterday as he hated French.”

    “Greta would be very annoyed with me. Every time I used the photocopier I kept getting the paper upside down. Wasted so many sheets. I did get a great copy of my hand”

    You can’t believe how relieved I was when he said hand….

    So what happened when you had no work to do.

    “I went to see the teachers and they just sent me back to reception. Finally one teacher told me to go to the library and get a book to read. Ha ha he doesn’t know I’m dyslexic. So I improvised”

    Did it involve your iPad and games.

    “Not entirely. Yes I played some very educational games like Space Invaders and Sonic. But I also watched a historical thing about how bad the British Empire was and how the navy went after Pirates.”

    So you watched Pirates of the Caribbean.

    “Yes. What a top day.”

    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 45 Comments

    Parent Evening

    Sometimes school does make me laugh. On his return from school today I found a severely scrunched up piece of paper. It’s the invite to the annual parent/teacher consultation. I’ve got to decide which teachers I want to see. Tick the appropriate boxes then get ‘your son or daughter to arrange times with the teachers’.

    I just looked at our son and said that’s not going to happen is it really. Son smiled and said

    “Never in a million years”

    Then we both burst into fits of laughter when we read the next bit of the letter.

    We are happy for students to attend with their parents. School uniform is not required but we do ask that students do not chew gum or wear hats whilst inside the school building.

    WHAT

    “Dad isn’t that Hatist …”

    Yes son it’s very anti hat and it’s also very anti kiddie as well. So apparently it’s ok for an adult to chew gum and wear a hat but not a child.

    “Dad does that mean that I’m ok going in nude or wearing a satanic cross as long as I’m not wearing a hat..”

    Apparently so.

    So we probably won’t get any teacher appointments booked but we are still turning up so I can wear the biggest and silliest hat I can find at the charity shop.

    Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 93 Comments

    Storm Bunker

    We had a large thunder storm pass over this afternoon. The cat was taking no chances. After the first bang he made his way to his storm bunker.

    Unbelievably the early morning cinema screening was very full. The cinema was mobbed. Not seen crowds like that since the ‘Everything for a Pound’ Store had a sale. It’s not a statistical significant sample population but from the early morning hordes I guess that The Avengers movie is going to pull in some astronomical numbers.

    And yes it is an astonishing movie.

    Yes the crowds unsettled our son but we took our customary place on the front row so no one could be in front of him or to the left of him. It’s so close to the big screen that I come away feeling like I’ve been chewing on magic mushrooms but it works for him.

    For 3 hours we both lost ourselves in the Marvel Universe. All our problems and anxieties forgotten. Heroic deeds fill your heart. With even a bit of free grief counselling thrown in by Captain America. But sadly it doesn’t last. You eventually find yourself back in the same place with the same issues.

    In fact it feels like we have regressed. Fifteen months ago we eventually secured some anxiety counselling for our son. I say ‘we’ as the fight to get some help started while my partner was still very much with us. It seemed to really benefit him. Progress was starting to be made. But now due to cutbacks that support has dried up. The anxieties are building and it feels like the system has cast him adrift again. We have been lucky really – far too many families get zero help – all they get is patronising comments from politicians who have no interest beyond their off shore bank accounts and rich friends.

    So as the thunder rumbles on we try to fight demons. Health anxieties, fear of death, school anxieties, friend anxieties, social anxieties, reading anxieties, fear of being left alone anxieties…..

    I’m no psychologist. I’m no health professional. I’m no education specialist. I’m not a grief counsellor. I’m just a parent trying to figure out this increasingly bizarre world with no one to help guide me. Doing the best I can. Deep down this scares me as what chance do I have when I can’t even come close to fixing myself. Queue worried face. 😱

    Pleased to report the immediate threat to life and property must have passed as the cat has made his way back to his favourite chair again. That’s one less worry to deal with.