This week has been one of those weeks (again), but thankfully blogging has kept me somewhat sane. All that angst that has building up inside me needed to be shared with the world (whether you like it or not!). What a great way to whine about things that has happened over the week and to tell the world to Flip-Off!
So here goes:-
Flip off to DOG SHIT! - Yep it’s happening again. Actually, it’s been happening for the last 2 years! Ive never known anything like it. For the last 24 months I’ve been trying to find out who’s been responsible for letting their dog or dogs foul on my lawn.
The dog warden have been called, the council had been informed, but the doggy doo offender still haven’t been caught. I’ve even gone to the extent of doing a dog shit vigil but yielded no results.
So feeling rather tired of it all, I shoveled every single one of those offensive doggie doos and strategically placed them on the painted sign NEXT TO MY LAWN (yes people are also illiterate as well as ignorant!) just to subtly hint that I do not appreciate their dogs shitting all over my front yard!
Dog owners that let your dogs do this, SHAME ON YOU!
Flip Off to lack of sleep and feeling tired all day! – This week I’ve been walking around like a zombie. The lack of sleep is really getting to me, every morning I wake up like a bear with a sore head. Sleep deprivation has been known to be used as a form of torture, so why me?
Flip Off to the weather! – We were teased with a few weeks of sunshine in June, and now July (nearly August) the British weather has not failed to disappoint. It’s been raining, cold and grey for the last 2 weeks and really I could do with the sunshine now that the school holidays have begun. There’s only so much ‘indoor wet play’ I can take, I need sunshine please! And make it last- all summer preferably! That’s all!!!
Flip Off to not having time together with my husband! – All work and no play makes Fairyboo a pissed off mofo! The days and nights are getting repetitive (that’s marriage for you). I was telling a friend just the other day, that the last time that me and MrB had a time alone for more than a day,was when we had our honeymoon. Ermmm 3 years ago?! Yup, it’s all about the kids and work now, and the over time that MrB is doing is not making things any better. I need a break – we need a break – I expect it in a few years or so….. *sigh*
Well…. that was theraputic! Thanks Kludgymom 
These are the new photos released today of the blue eyed angelic Baby P. A toddler who endured countless physical abuse that ended in tragedy, his innocent life cut short in the hands of his mother, boyfriend and friend.
Baby P was seen 60 times by social workers, health visitors and doctors in the last eight months of his life, after he was put on Haringey’s Child Protection Register.
Despite his obvious weight loss, bruises and other injuries not one of the officials intervened to stop his daily torment.
Baby P’s abuse trial heard he was used ‘as a punch bag’ in the four-bedroom council house in Haringey, North London, which he shared with his 27-year- old mother, her sadistic boyfriend and their lodger.
At his death his tiny frame weighed only 23lb – the healthy weight for a child five months younger.
Four separate inquiries have been launched into the failure by child protection and health authorities to halt Baby P’s suffering.
Source: Daily Mail
I have never felt so strongly about anything, and as a parent, I want to make a difference and put stop to this kind of abuse. So I would like to ask the support of my readers to please sign a petition to sack the child protection officials who failed Baby P. We want lessons to be learnt from this and hopefully safeguarding our children from this kind of monstrous abuse.
Some of you would probably agree that sometimes I talk a lot of crap but this time I really have an excuse. It’s been a long on going saga for me and really I have had enough and feel that I have to air my views.
Since moving to our new home 6 months ago, I’ve noticed that there are a large majority of people who own dogs in our area compared to where we used to live in Cambridgeshire. Now, I don’t have any problems with this, but I’ve also noticed that most of these dog owners let their dogs foul on the pavement without even batting an eyelid.
There had been a few occasions when I have been taking Sam out for a walk in his stroller and seen people actually standing there waiting for their dogs to do their business and just casually walking away afterwards. Many times I have stood with jaw on the floor, surprised at their attitude knowing that someone was actually watching them and STILL they let their dog leave a great big turd on the street.
Not only that they use the pavement as a toilet but they also seem to like letting their dogs loose on grassy areas where obviously kids go out and play. I don’t know about you but I find this attitude ignorant and unacceptable, and feel that dog owners should take responsibility for picking up after their pet. I don’t know what kind of mentality they have but I know that if I was a dog owner I would feel pretty bad if I let my dog just shit wherever it suits. I like taking Sam out for a walk but have to closely watch where I’m wheeling his stroller for the fear of having a great big piece of shit hitching a ride on one of his wheels. I’m sure it doesn’t take a lot of effort to carry a poop-scoop that’s why I just lay this down to pure laziness.
What really got me about this was an incident that happened a few weeks back when I saw a great big steaming turd neatly standing on my front lawn. I can’t believe the cheek!!! These people are just unbelievable!
West Yorkshire council has enforced a fixed penalty for dog owners who let their dog foul on the street. Anyone who does not pick up after their dog gets a £50 fine and this must be paid within two weeks or else they will need to appear in court and have another £1,000 penalty. This doesn’t seem to deter dog owners and I don’t think it ever will unless tougher and stricter penalties are brought out. But until then, I shall be keeping a close eye on the culprit who thought it was OK for their dog to use my front garden as a toilet!
Ask me 10 years ago what I think about shopping and I wouldn’t hesitate to give you an enthusiastic answer. My obsession for handbags and shoes are legendary, how I used to look forward to pay day and blow hundreds of pounds on pointless accessories, what a difference ten years make. My trips to Rackhams has been replaced by mundane weekly shops at Tescos. Instead of looking for the latest autumn collection from Dior I am now sadly searching for the best buy one get one free offers.
The weekly shop has been slowing become a battle and shopping experiences for me nowadays is slowly becoming more of a punishment. As I get older my patience seems to wane, and the more I get irritated by other people’s existence.
A few weeks ago, my daughter was literally ran over by one of those mobility scooters, instead of an apology we was given an evil glare and a mumble of what I can only identify as abuse. Not wanting to cause a scene and taking into consideration that this lady was disabled, I held my tongue and let the incident pass. But, what gets me ,is that, when I see these ‘scooters’ they seem to think that they have the right of way, and ignore the fact that there are other people around them. I fully understand that they have a disability but I can’t comprehend their ignorance, when they drive these things around at 10 miles an hour on a narrow shopping aisle, running over everybody’s toes as they go by.
After the stress of walking behind indecisive individuals who thinks going shopping is a leisurely stroll in the park, elderly people who decides to discuss their weekly ailments to whoever who wants to listen in middle of the gangway and irritating kids who treats the aisles as race track, by the time I get to aisle number 20, I’m about ready to explode, of course my shopping experience wouldn’t be complete until I encounter the miserable cashier who would rather be in the pub sipping a bottle of WKD than serve me on a Saturday afternoon.
Which brings me to an episode of Little Britain USA that I watched last night, that shows an example of the joys of British customer service. How I love British humour! (WARNING: Contains strong language).
Being a parent has prepared me to the daily challenges of life, and getting used to illnesses and minor complaints has just been one of those things. But lately I can’t help but notice that my children and husband seem to complain a lot more when it comes to being ‘ill’, and without being sexist men are the worst offenders when it comes to being hypochondriacs.
When they have a cold, they swear they have the flu leading to pneumonia, indigestion can be interpreted as a heart attack and of course a headache can lead to aneurysm. To be fair, my husband is not a wimp, but there was a time when he must have eaten something rancid which caused him to have a bad tummy, which lead to unbearable wind.
At first my sympathy was endless, of course we all know what it’s like to have a tummy bug, so armed with everything that I can get hold from the chemist I nursed him hoping that he will get better in an hour or so, little did I know that this would last for a whole day which you would probably think is not so bad, but when he couldn’t go for a minute without having to ‘let off’ then my sympathy quickly turned into anger.
“Would you stop letting off, it’s really pissing me off!” I would scowl at him.
“You know I can’t help it!” he would reason out while cradling his stomach, somehow looking for a little sympathy which ran out about 12 hours ago.
There’s nothing I hate more than people complaining endlessly about their illnesses, whether it would be a cold or just a bad back. Ok, it hurts, you’ve told me, now let it go and deal with it, and avoid situations where I am expected to ask how someone is, for the fear of the boring rendition about how they are feeling that day, to be honest sometimes I just don’t give a monkeys. Heartless as it may seem you can see I don’t offer much patience for drama queens. So, I’m determined that my kids are raised to toughen up when it comes to minor grazes and sickness.
But like most children, my kids can win countless Oscars on their performances whenever they hurt themselves. The other day my little boy came home from school with a graze on his elbow.
“Look mummy look…. I can see my bone! I really think I broke it this time!”
From his dramatic reaction you would be lead to believe that his arm would actually drop off, but in most cases I will need to put on my glasses to see the offending scratch.
My daughter however, is a walking chemist, there was a time when she had a mouth ulcer and I never heard the end of it. So knowing that it wouldn’t kill her, I pointed her to the direction of my medicine cupboard and told her to find something in there to put on it. Only to find out a few days later that the contents of my cupboard were missing and I only had to follow the strong smell of TCP to find that she has taken all of my medicine and put it in her bedside cabinet for future use. She carries around a ‘medicine bag’ and loves the idea of putting plasters on anything that resemble a ‘bite’.
I can’t help but think that maybe my unsympatheticness (if there is such a word) has led my children to become the future whiners of the world. Maybe I should pay more attention to their whimpers or maybe they will just grow out of it.
