Every 4^th of July I get cautious teasing from friends and colleagues and with an undertone of caring concern…

REALLY! I’M NOT BOTHERED! If Brits got upset every time a country celebrated their day of becoming independent from the British Empire they’d spend the majority of the year miserable.

Another misconception that Americans have about English folk is that back in Merry Old – come that final Thursday of November – we’re all whipping out the turkey, sweet potatoes and green beans and having a big ole Thanksgiving dinner.  NO! We don’t celebrate that one!  The fact that you were all starving to death and then some Native Americans – who you later pooped on – helped you out isn’t really relevant to the English nation.  And guess what – they probably don’t celebrate it in Japan either.  Though interestingly enough, they kind of celebrate it in Grenada…

Because the lovely Jude has been less than enthusiastic about paying child support and has also left me paying a bunch of his bills that are in my name (honestly, what a pig – his new floozy is more than welcome to him) Finn and I are on the super duper leanest of lean budgets for the moment.  Amongst other things, this involves the cutting off of the phone line/internet connection.

As my mother tells me ‘Nothing is forever’ and I’m sure I’ll be out of this sticky patch and be back entertaining you all with Finn’s debacles in no time.

I forecast several wonderful things happening in 2011:

1. The ICM agent who asked to see my latest novel about a month ago will call me up all in a flutter telling me how she loves it and how she has several publishers lined up all competing with each other to give me a huge fat advance.

2. As I got not one but two promotions in 2010 I’ll be presented with another big ole pay raise in 2011.

3. Jude will take on his own bills so I don’t have to pay them.

4. BB and I will move in together at which time I will get internet access again. I can’t imagine BB going one minute without full internet access at his place of residence!

So there you have it – one way or another it shan’t be long till I’m back entertaining you all again.

However in the meantime be happy, keep well and I’ll see you all in the marvelous 2011!

BB never puts the seat down after he pees and you know what – I don’t mind a jot.  Every time I see the seat in the up position I feel smug for two reasons:

1. I know that when I lower the seat and take a pee I’m not going to get a butt covered in man urine.
2. The seat up in my bathroom is a clear sign that there is a MAN in my house!           

Smug! Smug! Smug! Smug! Smug! Smug!

So you won’t find me ranting and raving about the seat in the up position.

Besides as one boyfriend once asked me: Why do women always leave the seat down?

 Now I’m not going to point a judgmental finger today or say, “Well – you just try being a single mom all the time lady.” Because, lucky for her and her child, she’s not found herself in that awful position.  She has a husband who, from what she was writing, is a very helpful and actively involved father.  Good.

“I can’t take it anymore” lady had been driven to the brink of insanity and into the depths of utter exhaustion by spending the weekend alone with her one year old son.  And today I’m taking the time to say: “I can’t take it anymore” lady: It’s not your fault.  

 “I can’t take it anymore” lady felt like a total failure of a parent for not being able to handle her kid by herself.  But the truth is – none of us should have to handle under fives for hours and hours upon end in utter isolation.  It’s not the way things were set up originally.

Now I’m not saying everyone should shuffle themselves off into corporate cubicles and employ full time live-in nannys. What I’m saying is that before the time of the invention of deodorant, the raising of a child used to be much more of a tribal event.  And that’s the way it supposed to be.  Half way through the last century we started to forget that.  And then these poor women who are left at home alone and unsupported looking after these kids all day long wonder why they are going insane.  Yes – I know there are lots of SAHMs who take it all in their stride and don’t ever have a melt down moment.  Good for them! Some women are also brave enough to serve in the military – guess what – they are in the minority.   I think the majority of stay at home moms are probably secretly driven to the brink everyday and can’t figure out why.   “It’s supposed to be this way.” They think: “It’s the most natural thing in the world for a woman to stay at home and tend to her children so why am I going crazy? Why am I so exhausted? Why am I considering going back to my law job? This was supposed to be fun…”

You are going crazy because, yes, though it is the most wonderful and natural thing to be able to stay at home with your children and raise them – you are not supposed to have to do it for 10 hours straight ALL BY YOURSELF.  That’s right. It’s too hard.  Back in the day when the raising of a child was more of a tribal affair there might be as many as three women in the home raising the kids: mom, grandma, ma in law.  And next door or two doors down lived your sister; over the road was your cousin.  A short stroller ride away was your best friend. There were more people around.  These days we all live 12 states away from our parents and the other side of the Atlantic from our siblings. Our best friends live half an hour’s drive away. You know what I’m going to say – there’s no community anymore and that leaves women looking after their children all day in utter isolation.  And that’s not a natural way to live – it’s too hard. 

As you know I’ve been a single mom since Finn was 8 weeks old and have no family in the area.  The wonderful friends I do have don’t live that near (no one lives near to anyone in LA) and they don’t have kids.  So up until quite recently I was functioning as an isolated unit most of the time.  And I have to say – as much as I adored my baby from day one – it definitely took the shine off the whole the parenting experience.  I only know this in hindsight as these days I rarely spend anytime with Finn alone.  BB is normally here in the mix.  And having him around makes parenting the delight I always knew it was supposed to be.  Not because I do less work or am less engaged with my son but because if I need to take two minutes to go the bathroom, or I fancy drinking a cup of tea, there’s no issue and if Finn throws a fit or does something heart-meltingly cute there’s someone else around to talk to about it.

Stay at home parenting is so hard because of lack of community. Women need other people around them.  10 hours alone with an under five is just too hard.  I’m not saying we should all move in with our mother in laws; I don’t really know what the solution is.  But what I am saying today is: I hear you “I can’t take it anymore” lady and please don’t beat yourself up any longer over it or think of yourself as unsuited to parenting.  That weekend you were stuck in a situation that wasn’t supposed to happen.

If ever I find myself in the position of being able to stay at home with my kids I think I’m going to have to remember how important it is to create a strong community around me.  I’ve seen it happen outside of big cities so I know it can be done.  I remember when I was a kid my mother had a constant stream of friends, neighbors and relatives dropping round and we were always out shopping or visiting one of the many friends, neighbors or relatives.  I think that’s the easier way to do it.   

So stay at home moms – I take this day to salute you and to remind you that if you are finding the battle too intense, get out and make some strong bonds with other mothers. They are probably as desperate for adult interaction as you are.  If you are lucky enough to have relatives around, as annoying as they may be – go hang out with them – drink a full cup of coffee safe in the knowledge that you’ll be allotted the time to pee it out later.

For it is my belief that every woman in this great land should have the freedom to visit the bathroom whenever she needs to.

 SAHMs would love to hear your thoughts on this topic.

So you may remember my rant about Wells Fargo Dealer Services, the company that liked to not send me a bill and then charge me lots of late fees.  When I questioned the policy, they told me that a bill was only a ‘courtesy’ and in reality I should have a detailed Excel sheet nestled on my desktop which I checked every day with a sweaty fervor to see if today was the glorious day I got to hand over a big chunk of my paycheck to their company.

Of course what with them not sending a bill and my not having an excel sheet I paid the bill late and got a nice little fine.  Which resulted in their big fat sweaty bank account getting even bigger and my anorexic, bugged-eyed account getting all the more smaller. 

Now – it is my belief that AT&T are on to the same gig as those f*ckers at Wells Fargo… Recently I stopped paying my ex husband’s phone bill and opened a new account just in my name.  The first bill didn’t come when it was due – and still not having that excel sheet up and running I was none the wiser – until I got a text message from AT&T saying my bill was overdue.  What? I never received a bill from you in the first place, you sods!

So I gritted my teeth and called them up and got to speak to a nice but dim lady called Debbie Perry.  She didn’t try and convince me that their providing me with a bill was a luxury of yesteryear – thank goodness – but she did try and spin the following:

1. I was a big fat liar – I had received a paper bill but had just neglected to pay it.
2. I probably accidently signed up for paperless billing and had ignored the email too.

 No and no!!  Luckily I caught AT&T with their pants down this time and I managed to squeeze my payment in 24 hours before they would have charged me for a late payment but really – there must have been tons of other people who didn’t get to it in time when their bills went ‘missing’ and those poor fools got suckered into paying the late charge.

 Of course it’s only a few dollars – but a few dollars extra from even just 20% of AT&T’s customers will make these wealthy wealthy people even more FILTHY RICH.  FOR NO OTHER REASON BUT THAT THEY DECIDED TO BE SNEAKY. Lord above it annoys me.  BB has a punching bag down in his basement that he’s offered me use of to punch my anger out over my divorce.  I don’t have any anger over my divorce. I am very happy not to be married to an irresponsible child anymore – the only sad part is that Finn is going to have travel back and forth between two homes like the proverbial ping  pong ball most of his childhood. BUT I may have to take him up on his punching bag offer to punch out my fury over AT&T and Wells Fargo Dealership and their conspiracy to squeeze ever more money out of innocent consumers.

Don’t you have enough yet? What else do you want from us apart from the entireties of our bank accounts? Are you going to come and shave our head in the middle of the night so you can sell the hair to some factory you own in the Far East where you have enslaved four-year-olds sewing together wigs?  When will you be satisfied you greedy greedy bastards?

Sorry.

I’m done now.  No more need for the punching bag. Phew!

Me: Hey. Can I have a chocolate croissant please?

Server: A what?

Me: A chocolate croissant.

Server: A muffin?

Me: No. A chocolate croissant.

Server: What?

Me: What?

Server: You want a pastry.

Me: Yes – a chocolate croissant.

So then she picked out a muffin, put in a bag and sent me on my way.  So now I am at my desk munching on a muffin I don’t want as I was still too grief stricken from dropping Finn off to argue the point with her any further.

Is it me?

I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it…

Suddenly I have some sympathy for those women who keep breastfeeding their kids till the age of five. “I just don’t know how to stop.” One of them confided in me once.  Well goodness.

The other day BB and I were at a restaurant and I heard the woman on the table next to ours say to the waiter: “And can we also get a glass of milk for the baby.” I swung my head around, eager to get a look at the cute little ‘baby’ but sat there was nothing but a  long legged six-year-old girl punching her older brother in the arm.  I kept a slight eye on the family for the rest of the meal.  No ‘baby’ showed itself at any time.  However when the glass of milk arrived the six year old stuck a straw in it and sucked down the whole thing. 

If I’m still calling Finn ‘Baby Finn’ by the time he’s out of diapers can someone please take me aside and have a word…

However recently he seems a bit happier about his All Star greeting and he wanders over, pulls up a chair and sits down inbetween them.  Recently he’s started to steal their cheerios – they don’t seem to mind.  This morning he struck up a casual conversation with the snottier of the two.  ‘The Finn! The Finn!’ said snotty.  “Blu cubble, doggie,” said Finn.

Well quite!

American men? Care to let me know what’s really going on?

Whatever has happened, the result is that I’m finding myself turning into one of those mothers.  And seeing as none of my friends or colleagues have kids I’m probably annoying the crap out of everyone.  They probably thought, with relief, that I was ‘cool.’ I was the one mom they knew who hadn’t become obsessed with her child’s bowel movements.    But now I am beginning to see why parents hang out mostly just with other parents.  No one else can stand to be around us as we continually clap trap on about how divinely cute and interesting our children are.  BB does a good job of listening to my continual clucking. In fact he even joins in and makes good points of his own: ‘Look how his language has developed this week – there are now three more unintelligible sounds he’s making! Look how he almost didn’t drop the ball just then!’  He always agrees with me wholeheartedly when I tell him how adorable Finn is.  He even bought a parenting book about toddlers in order to read up on the whole thing! Who knows maybe the real reason mummyhood has suddenly become a bundle of fun is because I have someone to share it with. Whatever the reason, even though these days I’ve become a bore, I am a very happy bore.