a 15th

#2 will be fifteen today, one good tooth less than 18 months ago.

His mum would have felt the same bloody sadness as I did when he banged out on a jump and lost it in the lawn. I had tears pissing everywhere while I tried to find it so I could jam it back in as soon as possible.

After all that food jammed down that throat and all that bloody brushing and all that, and he banged it out doing his favourite thing, just before the evening meal.

He said something to me the other day about next week, not sure what it was now, something in passing, with a strange look on his face.

I think I nodded and mumbled something back. Yep, next week.



He is feeling a loss, now that he is growing up, with a nice girl friend to go out with.

I have slowed down a lot of things the last year- not so much drinking to excess and not smoking, for the moment anyway since January 15, just a few puffs, to see/taste/smell what I don't miss.

Tried to engage with them (the kids) more without being a control freak, or not caring less than I was, just trying to be "good" now that the four of then are really seeing me as a role model, a civic minded being trying to get on.

'Dancin in the street'

Trying not to let too many taboos be thrown down their necks, or religion shoved in their ears, show that some authority that has no reason but to control the masses is not good. To talk.

And instead of just writing drunkenly in a hidden diary about things that occur to me in a drunken state, I put it here, looking to show that I think I am a grown up and not ashamed to show my fears, and hopes. That diary still sits above me, full of hopes and fears, struggles and tears. Aims and losses. Ambitions and plans.

Frazlerdazzler has got a lot on his mind now.
He needs a job to achieve the little things that I cannot just hand over for doing a lawn.
He is trying hard to be such a better person than he was as he got into puberty- I am so happy that he can do things without loud shit fights, things that I never had with his brother or me with my own dad.
And he is better. He comes to sit near and have little chats now, and I try to be patient with him.
He does know everything! Some kiwi blood?
But I really try to say something to get through, and sometimes, the penny drops, THANK F#$%^ christ I say under my breath, a win.

The target is to get through this year with a financial loss on one hand, and a great report in my other.
He can see it. It is on the kitchen notice board. Signed by both parties.

Achieve and receive.

I think we will get through the anniversary next week without too much trouble.
It's a boggy misty vale every year, that some people once close to me didn't quite get.

But then, maybe I was the same when their special anniversaries came around, I don't recall, but I try to be sensitive if I do realise.