Heartbreak Hotel and other such priestly colloquialisms

Well I guess you're aware of the fact that I got left behind again . He didn't love me and actually just hated who I was as a person apparently . He could have just got in line behind myself. I guess I don't want to talk about the situation anymore. I guess it just helped me realize quite a few things in the process . You can't escape being lonely , yup I could share my body with him or with any other randomer but It's still going to get me last thing at night. I can't change who I am , I wish I could because it would be a hell of a lot easier to be someone else . Unfortunately i can only get my head around being me . Who apparently Is a crazy , mean bitch . Maybe if people looked past the crazy harder and decided I was worth the effort they'd see how fucking hard I try.

I've never done less than a hundred percent by every guy I have been with. I've been the model girlfriend and put up with their shit and neglected mine. Mainly because If I'm focused on someone else then I'm distracted from the mess inside my head and more recently my heart.

My heart cheated on me . It should have been the reason I got dumped other than being crazy and mean. Because before , where I was able to give a hundred percent I wasn't able to commit myself fully to him this last time . Not because there was anything wrong with him . I couldn't believe my luck when someone as smart and as handsome and as kind as the boy decided I was worth the effort. I was so fucking happy whilst I was with him and I lived everyday (rightly) fearing he'd decide I was too much hassle. I felt guilty from at least two months in because I felt a void in the feelings I should have because I knew and kept denying that the void was a missing piece of me that might forever belong to someone else. I guess I'll never get over the American . I really did my best by the boy I worked hard on not keeping tabs on the American , pretending he existed I even wrote him and told him not to contact me in anyway shape or form so I could work on getting that part back. And yet it remained blank , a void , a guilty secret I was trying desperately tried to path over in the hope that the boy would regain the last bit of unheld ground. I knew I felt very deeply for him but he just wasn't him. I worry alot I worry that there is 'A One' And the American was it and then I flip it and worry that If 'The one' still is out there that by the time we meet I'll have had so many chunks torn out of me there will be nothing left to give him. I placate myself in the mean time telling myself that there is no 'one' just chances , that for me go missed and sometimes finally , Theres no such thing as any kind of 'one' and I stupidly did not treat men with enough contempt before. I surely believe it's my own stupidity that has got me so hurt so many times. It's alot to untangle in my head amongst the voice of my depressive self and the reality of what is actually happening now stuck in there too.

What if for instance that my theory of missed chances is right ? What if My old ex was just something I took too far ? That we should have dated for a few years and called it a day instead of getting engaged and making me miserable for years after that? What if the American was simply not my 'one' because of a ten year time lapse in which he never knew that I existed led a life and got married before I collided into him? What if the boy wasn't the one because we just were ignoring the fact we were completely incompatible ? And really just not suited to being together?

What is this constant obsession with my search for the one ? I'm not a fluffy cutesy girl who is waiting naively to put my virginity on the line with Mr right . I'm into Mr Right Now's , I have and do enjoy sharing myself with someone who I do not wish to keep In anyway shape or form. So why do I keep coming across men I can picture as the father of my children ? And stupidly keep working on relationships that suck and dont go anywhere when I could be having fun and not getting hurt ?

At the moment the American ensures for the immediate future I will hump and dump men and keep them at arms length which is fun but again leaves me just as lonely as I was single. I loved him harder than anyone , we challenged each other to our very limits and survived it time and time again. I had met my match in him anything I could do he could do ten times better. We made each other better , bigger and I felt how strong he felt for me I realed because I never expected anyone to except for me to be capable of feeling that strong. He was passionate and inspiring my cheerleader and my worst enemy rolled into one and he made me feel like there was no other greater force than me. How do you go about reclaiming that piece of yourself ? Or is possesion nine tenths of the law ? does he get keeps on it ? And If that is the case do I bother finding this elusive 'one' because already , I'm not a complete set. Is this my fault for opening up my heart too many times already ? I have no idea what the bloody answers are but there are too fucking many questions.

Oh Ballz !

See this is why I don't tweet or blog much in the summers , I hang with two little people under the age of six all day everyday . I cannot hold an adult conversation , I'm fascinated by the constancy and frequency of poop and I can hold my own in a hypothetical debate about who wins : Iron man Vs. Superman .I'm queen of the trampoline ,I'm the go to gal for kisses on scraped knees and I can finger paint a turkey in under three minutes. Essentially I'm a stay at home mum . Or rather a rent-o- mum. I have no children of my own but get paid to look after a very sweet , smart (dangerously so) and adorable six and two year old but boy some times do they know how to push my buttons. For Instance , this morning:

Scene set: Returning from arts and crafts with my six year old , swinging a bedazzled iron man toy and my two year old that has already ingested over the recommended daily intake for Crayola and paint. Today was the 'Day of awesomeness' It means the adults get Dunkin' Donuts coffee and donut balls for breakfast ( I do not however because I am Gluten intolerant , I'm sure a crucial decider in whether you choose to follow me ) *see earlier tweets . My two year olds dad gave him a donut ball this morning and of course he has developed a taste for those sticky bite sized little treats. The only problem is , that these donuts are a limited supply thing and are practically inhaled by staff in under a minute.

My two year old ( smacking lips) : Niiiiiiice donuts . Niiiiiiiice donuts

H e picks the rest of the caster sugar from his t shirt amongst the second course of glue and glitter sprinkles.

My littlest: Nannypoopoo? ( yes apparently that is what I was christened) I has anoser (another) Niiiiiiiice ( yes we have established that) DONUTS.

Me : Chicken I think they are all gone . We'll find you some fruit.

My littlest : Nanna I haz teh donuts !! I likesd teh donuts ( yes He does a rapturous rendition of a lol cat)me likest the donuts I wants the donuts!! I haz donuts now pleeeese ?

And so it went on , me fruitlessly explaining that there probably wasn't any left and unsuccessfully trying distraction techniques . Then he decided to mean business.

My Two year old : I WANTS DONUTS NANNY ! I likes tem , gives tem to meeeeeeeeeee!

I try , failing miserably to barter a 'froot' roll instead. FAIL.

My two year old : I WANTTTTTSSSSS DA DONUTS . I HAZ EEEEEET I HAZ EEEEEETTTTTT!!!! GIIIIVE IT TOOOOO ME !!!!

And he brought out the big guns . The convulsion tantrum , right there in the middle of the walk way where he was gunna bang his head . Normally I wouldn't be too fussed, me and his parents usually ride them out and let him get on with it as long as it's a soft spot. Nope , no such luck . Tarmac. Forty Fucking minutes this kid owned me . He wailed and kicked and screamed and protested and shoved . Eventually after maybe fourteen minutes I resolved to be his bitch and find him another damn donut ball. I walked the three mile around camp with my screaming toddler tucked under my arm like a football to stop him hurting himself trailing his less than impressed big brother behind me in search of a donut ball. I interrupted meetings , received death glares rummaged in the most obscure of places until forty minutes later I was able to crash yet another important meeting with said screaming toddler and procure two of the last three donut balls in existence. I present him with gooey baked treat. He just stops.

The river of snot is snorted back up for later use . The tear faucet is turned off , His face returns to its normal colour and he beams at me sweetly

" I haz goldfish now" He tells me.

Marvelous, owned by a two year old . I guess the moral of the story is don't tut and scowl at those parents in the store , in the restaurant , in the cinema , at the pool with the wailing child . Not unless you conquered a two year old determined to make you his bitch.

pile of shite but truth all the same

So , I have been in a weird mood all day maybe it's because today I truly found myself back at the beginning but with a million different changes , changes that when I'm wondering around in the dark at camp seem too good not to be some kind of mental break I have imagined. Last night I bathed my boys , I listened to my eldest (six) discuss consumerism in context to the adult, the child and Ben 10 I put my youngest to bed and enjoyed his joy that we had been reunited again. ( No I don't have children ,I'm a Nanny). This morning I was greeted by my children's mother informing me that my baby asked for me as soon as he woke up at 5am and had him hang off me and encase me in cuddles and kisses all day as if he didn't hold tight enough I may disappear in a poof of smoke. But later , I couldn't get a hold of the boy. I've tried to talk to him everyday without fail so far and today we just seemed to miss each other. But when I let a day go by I get scared that I must have made him up that I must have imagined him because he is far too good to be true. Sat with my kids it's easy to believe that not a single minute has ticked by since last year and so much has happened.

Here's what I know is different and things I have learned :

DON'T ever take the fall as somebodies muse

Only love if you are loved in return

Chocolate always tastes better molten and licked off your partners body

If it feels too good , let it , Don't fight and run away.

Drink in your partners face when they sleep.

If you lose grip hold them even closer

Trust everyone on a clean slate not on the slate of others

If someone wants to look after you , let them and enjoy it

Don't let people who don't deserve your thought stay under your skin let them go.

Try to be less of a social retard.

Smile and you might eventually smile because you want to

Believe the boy most of the time he is right

Let him make you feel safe

Don't have little mental breaks and wig out that because geographically you are in the same place as last year even though your life is not.

I miss my Boy thus follows the list :

I miss him resting his head on my chest last thing at night and dozing for nano seconds during the film we are supposed to be watching, I know this because I don't watch the film either , I watch him.

I miss being dragged to starbucks for the fifth time that weekend.

I miss him making me take a bath and washing my hair for me because I'm ill even if I don't want to because I take showers.

I miss being brought breakfast in bed.

I miss being kissed and nuzzled in the middle of the night when he thinks I'm asleep.

I miss random things he leaves me to find up on his laptop screen and the picture messages he sends me at work.

I miss him telling me with a very serious face that gifted and I are mutually exclusive

I miss our little weekend adventures.

And for once In my life I find I have something to be rushing on home for