Mummy's Rant

There's inevitably somebody, somewhere, spouting bollocks about mental health. Now, before I get your back up, let me put you straight. I'm not saying mental health issues are bollocks, I'm saying how some people "deal" with it is. I won't bore you with the details, but sometimes, I have really shitty days. I know the signs, I know the reasons, and I know the solution. AND THAT SOLUTION IS NOT THAT I PULL MYSELF TOGETHER! Let me chuck you an analogy: someone's leg has snapped at the knee - shattered bone fragments have ripped through the skin and their foot is facing the wrong way. Are you going to make like Jesus and say "Rise... and walk"? No, because their leg is broken, and they can't. And when someone's mind has broken, they can no more pull themselves together than Long John Silver perform Riverdance. So get off our backs, OK? We're doing the best we can. It's said that beautiful things come in small packages, an...

When you're little, like Micro-RM, you fall in and out of friendships in the space of a playtime. At Mini-RM's age, allegiances are starting to form that are exclusive and excluding; feelings become intense and hearts are getting damaged - all a precursor to them being broken by mid-teens (or earlier these days, I'm writing from my point of view). End of school days, and you're promising to stay in touch forever, only to lose touch within a year. People who were integral to your life are gone. They may have been in your life for a single summer, or throughout your schooling: there's no falling out, you merely drift apart and suddenly you've both moved on and are part of each others' lives no longer. Someone once told me a true friend is someone you may not see for years, but with whom you pick back up as if you've never lost touch. That has happened to me twice, after an extended separation, and it's magical when they - the one who is so like you...

Yep, I said bees. You know, those furry yellow and black stripy fellows who bumble around like their moniker. Except ours aren't flying. They're keeping me awake. A couple of years ago, a colony of bees found their way behind the fascias at our bedroom window and set up residence. They weren't really any trouble - any that did end up in the house were patient while we caught them and set them free, although it's the strangest herding I've ever done. But as the temperatures dipped in the evening, they would start vibrating their wings to keep their babies warm. Depending on the ambient temperature, we would be treated to a pastoral symphony of buzzes or a full-scale rave. I found myself heading to work shattered because of disturbed sleep and then lying in bed waiting for the cacophony to begin. We went off on our annual fortnight away and when we came home, the bees had swarmed. The sound of silence was immense and it took a fair while to adjust to it. About...