Poppy

So, today was the day... Actually, YESTERDAY was the day. It's all a bit of a blur, and I realise it's now half past midnight.

But I digress... I am so pleased, proud and happy to announce the arrival of our beautiful little girl, Poppy.



That is her within minutes of her being born. And wow... My first birth. My other three were all cesarean sections, so this was something altogether new and different.

We went into hospital at 9am, and were fully expecting things to be still ongoing at this time. Examination by ten, postrin gel by eleven. Examination at five. More gel. Examination at nine. Hormone drip. Tadpole to be born in the early hours. Long, boring, hard work.

It seems that fate decided to play another fastball with us. We got in at nine. Examination at ten... But no gel needed. Turns out the Braxton Hicks contractions Kellie has been having are ACTUAL contractions - and she was already three centimetres dilated, plus she was having fairly good - but not very strong - contractions already.

Woop!

So the plan became "break waters at eleven, see what happens by five and if needed, onto the drip"which would have to Tadpole coming out in the late evening.

Fine by us.

After the crotchet hook was used to rupture her membranes, it didn't take long for the contractions to get a bit more grown-up, and after a couple of hours, they were making her gasp and stop what she was doing to squeeze my hand.

By three this afternoon, she opted for the gas & air... In the past, it's made her feel sick, but she was limited to that, diamorphine (that'd be heroin then!), or an epidural. She was adamant, NO epidural, so tried using the gas.

It didn't help much, and it did make her feel sick. But she pushed through. Diamorphine crosses through the placenta and can make baby tired and woozy. She didn't want that. The pains built up and up, but she didn't shout, scream, swear, blame me for doing it, nothing... Just lots of gas, and breathing through the pain..

By four she was really suffering, and by half four decided to go for the diamorphine. At 4.50pm she was given it, and Anna, our midwife, had me getting Kellie to stay focused and do hula hoop movements - it kept Kellie from falling asleep, and kept Tadpole awake.

I chose this time to send a text update to a few people, and said it shouldn't be long, which in hospital talk is a few hours. I spoke to Dom, reassured him Kellie & Tadpole were fine... I put the phone down to him at 5.01pm, and as I did so, Kellie made a really strange noise...

She had started to grunt and push.

Midwife jumped, assistant came running, and it just so happened that this was IT.

By 5.11pm, Tadpole was born. No longer Tadpole, but a beautiful little girl, covered in white vernix, bellowing for all to hear. She went straight onto Kellie for skin to skin, we delayed the cord clamping, and there she lay, whinging and moaning with the occasional little tiny tear.

Once the cord was clipped, she was weighed, coming out at a beautiful 7lb 7oz. Tadpole became Poppy.

A few minutes later, the placenta arrived, but - my American friends from CHD lists will appreciate - we opted to not keep it for cooking up. Sorry and all ;-)

Kellie did an amazing job. She never complained, only really cried when (and I quote) "she's looking at me!" and did everything brilliantly. No tearing, no stitches. She didn't make a fuss, shout, swear, just got on with giving birth.

It's an amazing thing, to see a human being squeezed from inside another... Words can't do it justice, seeing this teeny tiny person slowly emerging.

Tadpole and Kellie will stay in hospital overnight... Due to Kellies diabetes, they want to make sure both her and Poppy have normal blood sugars. Here I lay without wife or baby, just for tonight. Tomorrow, the real fun will start.

A huge, huge, massive thank you to all of you - everyone that commented on the updates, pictures, announcement...Not to mention those of you that have kept me sane over the last nine months. It's been a long time in the making, but Poppy is beautiful and gorgeous - she even has a small birthmark on one shin. No doubt there will be plenty more postings to come, but thank you to everyone that has been there supporting, welcoming and congratulating us today. I will be printing out all the comments for the Baby Journal. Suffice to say, it's been an incredible day.

It's been IMMENSE.

0ddness II - A New Beginning

For those of you living under a rock, or more specifically, that aren't on my Facebook (OR have me muted... I know who you are...) you will be aware that August has been, well, mentally manic at Chez 0ddness.

With it being Summer Holidays and all the kids being home, with Kellie working, it was decided that - what the hell - we'd sodding well move house too. Because why not?

We've been wanting to move for ages. Chez 0ddness is was beyond cramped. Granted, it was a three bedroom town house (ground floor, middle floor, top floor) BUT it was narrow. For a regular sized family, it was a little tight, but for the tribe...

Put it this way - our bedroom was in the dining room.

Finally, we found a house that we loved, and thus started the long process of acquiring said-house. It was lovely - big, open, spacious, big kitchen, big lounge, lovely garden, big living room... And finally, mid-August, we were given the green light.

And thus began one of the most stressful self-induced hellish fortnights of my life. I won't go into too much detail. It wasn't the move per sé, and it wasn't leaving Chez 0ddness exactly... It was the mess. The chaos. The disorganisation. The "Shit There Is So Much To Do But We Seem To Be Getting No Where" feeling...

My brain isn't wired for this sort of thing. I don't know what it is. I don't know if it's the loss of control, the upheaval, even the change... But I was a wreck. In agony and pushing through by day, sobbing in the dark by night.

People kept saying to me "It'll be worth it in the end" and "Think of how wonderful it'll be" and similar phrases. But they didn't help.

Being told those things, while literally surrounded by boxes, rubbish sacks, mess, dust and a list as long as my arm...

Quite how I didn't just run and hide I don't know.

Surprisingly, we were pretty much ready *cough*though not really*cough* in record time. The weekend of the 30th/31st August become Official 0ddness Moving Weekend, and all troops were mobilised. The kids were "helping", Kerry and James were slaving away, Mick from work helped, the 0dd Mother and the 0dd Mother-in-Law helped, Callum & Kathleen were beavering away with Dom & Molly...

Again, hell, chaos, nightmare, mess, disorganisation...

BUT by late Saturday evening, the new front door was closed, everyone had a bed, and all was quiet. We sat and ate takeaway on the living room floor. We could breathe.

We were in.

And thus begins a new chapter in our lives. Chez 0ddness is no more. Chez English is the in thing now. WE have a home. Kellie doesn't "live with me" any more. We live together.

Yes, we are still working our way through boxes. Yes, there is still plenty to do. Yes, I still want to run and hide and scream and cry. BUT there are no more deadlines. No more time limits. I cleared through a few boxes in the living room yesterday. Today, I might not do anything.

I want to thank everyone that helped out once more... Because without everyone helping, we'd never have managed it. Kerry & James were absolute troopers - Kerry had to drive the truck (I know, a woman driving a truck! AND there were ZERO deaths as a direct result of her driving!), and James was DIY Man (because I am still not allowed to use power tools). Callum & Kathleen (Kerry & James' two eldest) helped the kids sort their rooms. Our mums were amazing help - the 0dd Mother-in-Law was driving backwards and forwards, carting things around, buying food, and helping with the packing & clearing up, while the 0dd Mother sorted all the houseplants, made up big garden pots of flowers, and has been helping out with other bits as well. Mick from Work helped James with some of the DIY, and was brilliant at shifting and straightening heavy furniture. The kids were all great, helping out, carrying, lifting, clearing, tidying...

And for you that could see I was a mess, and keeping me sane via messaging, thank you... From convincing me not to kill anyone, for telling me murder is bad, and for keeping me as sane (yes yes, I know...) as humanly possible...

Thank you everyone.

I am aware that there is a distinct lack of pictures of the house so far... And I will remedy this as soon as possible. I was hoping to take pictures without boxes in frame, but suspect that might be a while away. So I WILL do pictures soon. Suffice to say, the house is like us. A bit strange, a bit 0dd, a bit weird, and the outside doesn't tell you anything about what's going on on the inside.

Welcome to Chez English.

Hi-Ho Silver, Away!

So, after what feels like eternity, I am finally getting my arse back to that lovely place that we refer to as "Devon"

Ok, so it is actually called Devon, but my statement is technically correct.

None the less, in less than three hours, we will begin the trek to the South West. A gorgeous, beautiful place that... Oh, is about it face the brunt of a massive storm.

Should be fun.

We're going for a week, and this time we're taking ALL the kids. Yes folks, I will be trying to control Dom, Jaysen, Kellie, Molly and Tamsyn into London, then on to Devon.

You see why a hurricane-force storm is no bother to me now, right?

I'm using the rule of thumb that an 80% survival rate for them is pretty good, but I'm willing to let that number drop, depending on how good they l are...

Plans for the week include "not much" "very little" and "sod all" but I also want to explore parts of the moors, eat copious amount of Steak & Stilton baguettes, sample the local breweries, and generally be out and about. Pain & Energy Levels permitting.

Usually before I travel for any real distance, I like to take it easy for a few days in the run up, as travelling and me do NOT go well together. It hurts, it exhausts, and it stresses me out of my brain. This week, however, I feel like I've hardly stopped, and even after being in bed for several hours, I'm in effing agony.

With drugs, I should add.

Saturday was a manic bloody day :-(

And to add to my misery, the clocks went back last night (I say last night, I've been awake since half three, it's now half five... "Tonight" would be more accurate) and while people say "Oh this is the GOOD one, we gain an hour" it's actually horse crap if you're an Insomniac. Forward or Back, it sucks when you can't sleep.

Back: You aren't sleeping, it's all shit. And you watch the clock go Midnight, 0100, 0200 then clicks back to 0100, then 0200, 0300... ANOTHER hour of not sleeping!

Forward: You aren't sleeping, it's all shit. And you watch the clock go Midnight, 0100, 0200 then it clicks forward to 0300, then 0400, 0500... An hour GONE that you will never get back and have lost sleep.

But I digress.

As is usual when in the wilds of Devon, phone sign is, shall we say, a bit naff. Inside the cottage and it's three-feet-thick walls, there is zero signal. Zip. Nada. Outside it comes and goes, depending on where I am on Dartmoor. Luckily, inside the cottage, I will have WiFi, so if you want to chat, install WhatsApp.

Side Note: Do not bother with BBM for Android. It's rubbish, slow, doesn't run well, doesn't actually communicate with every BlackBerry user (which is a joke really) and generally sucks. Honestly, if you want something like it on either iPhone or Android, install WhatsApp or Kik Messenger. BlackBerry needs to realise they are past it, over the hill and crap. There's a reason it's popular with kids... Because they should be counted as a toy.

Anyways, yes, Devon.

I'll probably post the odd photo on my blog or through Instagram... I'll have my laptop too so if I'm indoors vegging out, I may even play some Warcraft or Diablo.

Assuming the storm doesn't knock out the power down there which is quite likely, apparently. Sitting in the quiet, by candle light, with nothing to do except read or talk? WOW the kids are in for a shock!



(Posted from my Sony Xperia Z - excuse typos, strange formatting and similar oddities)

Wedding Pictures

It occurs to me that, despite having been married for over four months now, my blogging radio-silence sort of missed and skipped through the time we received our wedding photos...

Now, I am not going to post them all, just a few from throughout the day - otherwise, you will burn through any web/data allowance you might have by viewing this one post...

The total so far stands at 5Gb. Not too shabby.

Almost all of these photos I am posting were taken by our truly-amazing photographer, Sarah, of Prideaux Photography. Honestly, she was brilliant, more of a guest than someone working through the day (and she didn't just work, she slaved bless her). I am sure we will use her again for family photographs, but if you're in the area and need someone, contact Sarah.

Prideaux Photography: Facebook Page or Twitter Feed

Anyway, these are in a sort of chronological order, mostly by Sarah, some by me, some by James. We have literally hundreds of pictures too, but I'm not going to post photos full of everyone else, because you can bet someone will moan ;)

Warpaint Application

Bride & Maid of Honour

Team Bride

Bridesmaids and Grandad

Jaysen working out shoe-wearing

Dom not understanding shoe-wearing

Half-Nekkid Coffee Drinking? Chilled.

Worlds SLOWEST Driver!

Team Groom!

Guests

Bridal Party in Full

Yeah, I was aaaaall good

Listening to the Registrar

Signing the Marriage Register

Rings

The Shoe Conspiracy revealed

Shoegate

Heading out for photos

Toby & Harry, NOT wanting to be in photos

One big happy family

First Dance

Dancing, Ignoring Everyone

Hotel bed, and we're exhausted

Cloudy

I have no idea what is going on, or whether it's an after-affect of being so happy following the wedding, but things this last week have just seem... hard.

To start with the positive, the painkilling patches I have been on seem to be working quite well. They are called BuTrans, and the main ingredient is Buprenorphine. Reading the literature and information about them makes them seem a little... scary... BUT they are working. I'm no longer taking Co-Codamol which is something.

The side-effects are manageable, and nothing new to me really. Cotton-Mouth, stomach problems, hot-to-cold flushes, plus various other issues - not to mention my skin flaring up under the patch - which has to be worn for seven days. Because I'm a big fat fatty, and because I seem to be doing stuff all the time, I get hot and sweaty which makes the patches peel a little, so we've been experimenting with different kinds of tape to hold it in place. The best so far seems to be a tape called Transpore. Everything else peels off within a short space of time after re-fixing, but the transpore holds for a day and a half at least.

My pain levels are more manageable, back to being below my levels of Functioning/Non-Functioning.

Other than that, everything feels like it's on top of me at the moment. I can't put my finger on any one thing, but lots of things bother me, piss me off, upset me. My energy levels are still fluctuating, so some days I can't do anything where-as other days I can potter around and do whatever I can - till I crash and burn.

Different people have upset me or pissed me off, and part of me wants to rant and rave about it, but I won't. I've kept myself busy, or my brain as occupied as I can when I am feeling crappy, but even then it wanders off and I end up pissed off.

So, I've been doing my own thing, ignoring the people bitching at/about me, not reading through Facebook or Twitter, not posting anything on there, even neglecting my blog - which I am hoping to stop doing. You will even notice the webcam is back on, pointing out the window, watching the world go by...

All in all, I am doing my own thing, trying to keep up with the kids, trying to keep up with the house, trying to get my brain focused and off of things that bring me down. I've spent this morning re-installing Jaysens laptop, while watching Star Wars, while waiting for a delivery (new battery for my laptop! Woohoo!) and debating if I can be bothered to eat or not.

Yes, I am alive, I'm here, and pottering around as best I can.

XIV.VI.MMXIII

So... Wow... I'm married. Properly, honest-to-goodness, didn't-have-to-bribe-nor-threaten-someone, properly married.

To say the words "Thank You" to everyone that came along for the day and the evening seems do it a complete injustice, but honestly, from the bottom of my heart: Thank You. Truly.

Contrary to popular belief regarding weddings and the drama that is present at them, everything - every single thing - went perfectly, according to plan, and like clockwork. Sure, Kellie looked like she was about to burst into tears and/or puke/pass out, but she didn't.

Barely.

The morning kicked off after a completely pointless night of "sleep" and I ended up just getting up at 6am. Had to leave at ten, so no point in getting suited up till at least half nine... And thus commenced the longest morning in history.

In. History.

Every time I checked the clock, thinking "Must be time now, its easily been half an hour!" it had been about four seconds since the last time I looked.

James turned up to help out (because I knew I'd need help getting dressed!) so we stood around - him in a suit, be in a towel - chatting, drinking coffee, eating bacon sandwiches, waiting for the morning to piss off.

Finally, half nine rolled around, and because I'd been waiting all morning to shout it, I ran around screaming "SUIT UP!" much like Barney from How I Met Your Mother.

Simple things...

With one minor wardrobe malfunction, in that Jaysens shoes didn't fit, we were sorted, ready and out the door.

Looking damn fine, I might add...

The Studly Groom

Team Dan, aka, The Dream Team

And thus proceeded the longest journey in the history of journeys... Now, Brentwood is not THAT far from home, but it would appear some little f$cker was changing every traffic light to red, putting traffic on every roundabout, and plopping every member of the International Drive Like A Snail Car Club directly in front of us. One dick in a blue car decided to do HALF the speed limit. FIFTEEN miles per hour!

I didn't burst too many blood vessels on the way, but I may have been screaming at the driver. And noticing how many old ladies were waiting for buses.

We arrived, and to prove how damn STUDLY I am, I will add the following. The following is NOT made up, AND I had many witnesses!

We headed into the Registry Office, just to make sure everything was OK, discovered the wedding before ours was LATE (Grrr!) and as we were leaving, someone in the office said "See you in there soon!" to which I made a comment along the lines of "Assuming my bride turns up!"

Three women in the office laughed and replied:

Woman #1: If she doesn't, I'll marry you!
Woman #2: No, I will!
Woman #3: No, I WILL!

Propositioned thirty minutes before getting married? Huzzah!

And so, we waited. Guests started to arrive, the four-person wedding before ours rushed in fifteen minutes late, and we stood around, twiddling our thumbs. Kellie and her procession were due to rock up at quarter to eleven.

A time that came, and went. Ten to eleven went. Five to eleven went. The previous four-person wedding rushed out. Eleven, time for me to get married, but there was no bride. The registrar called us in. No bride. I went inside with a couple of others, and as I stepped into the building, I head someone call out "Sheeeee's heeeeeeeere!"

OK, it may not have been in that voice, but you get the point. She was late. Shocking. Brides Prerogative, I'm told.

We finalised our paperwork, paid our fee, and had everyone filter into the chambers. Everyone in, I rocked in with a face that I could feel was split with a stupid grin. If I could have bottled the feeling I was feeling, I could cure global depression in an instant. Euphoric. Ecstatic. Over-The-Moon.

And so I stood, waiting. "Please Rise for the Bride" came the voice, and in she stepped.

Kellie leaving the hotel

 Holy. F$cking. Shit.

She looked so gorgeous. Her dress - that she had had made specially - was black and white, and proper medieval-style dress. The bridesmaids - Molly, Tamsyn, Amy and Zoe - all looked gorgeous, but my eyes were fixed on Kellie.

Kellie, I should add, who was on the verge of a panic attack. Her hands were cold, her breathing was coming short and quickly (which, I should add, made her boobies bounce), and her eyes were on the verge of bursting into tears.

Reassuring hand squeeze, smile and wink.

I was worried I was going to be the wreck, but seeing her like it, I calmed instantly and just wanted her to breath and relax.

The Registrar had to ask, legally, if any person here has a reason why we should not be married... I had to turn. I had to look. So many times, over the years, I've threatened to stand up at other peoples weddings, and in the run up to ours, everyone was threatening the very same thing. There was much chuckling, several people gave nervous coughs, but no one was brave enough to face the wrath of the Bride ;)

We gave our declarations. We exchanged rings. We gave our vows. I didn't f$ck up at all. Kellies voice was threatening to burst into tears at any moment, but she got through it.

"I now pronounce you man and wife"

Cue much applause. Cue Kellie squeezing my hand as we kissed. Cue this idiot to turn around and throw his fists into the air in a victory cheer!

What can I say, I was so so happy!

We then had to sign the register, with our much-practiced-over-the-last-few-weeks signatures, and then we had a breather as our wedding certificate was signed.

Signing the Register

Cue me, whipping out my phone to take a photo of the Grooms Eye View. I HAD to upload a photo, I HAD to share with the world that we were, in fact, married.

Friends and Family (couldn't get the whole room in!)

The registrar even tried to get me to put it away, but not till I hit upload!

Out we went, into the daylight. I should add at this point, 6am was brilliantly sunny. 9am it went very grey. 1030am it was overcast, windy and threatening to piss down. By 1130am, the sun was back out!

We stood around outside being congratulated, showing off our rings, thanking everyone, calming Kellie down, posing a bit... Sarah - our exceedingly-brilliant photographer for the day - then led us across to Brentwood Common, which is very green, very picturesque and even had ducks!

The next hour was spent getting different groups of people together for pictures. After they were all done, we got rid of the entire guest list, and sent them off to the restaurant, while Sarah took pictures of us together.

After that, we got in our very nice car and headed to the restaurant together, spending the first time together since the day before.

Man & Wife

Once at the restaurant, we mingled, schmoozed, had some drinks (pushing the boat out with Diet Coke!) and chatted to everyone. Some more pictures were taken, but we had to be social, pose some more for people again, let the kids (of which, an army was present!) chill out a bit before the meal, and generally let the anxiety drain away a bit.

The George & Dragon in Mountnessing is a gorgeous restaurant, and the staff could not have been more helpful. They were brilliant and accommodating and we cannot say thank you enough. Our guests were ushered in and seated, then we went in (to applause again I think!) and sat while starters were sorted. There was much chatter, much socialising and getting along. It was so nice to see our two families and closest friends sitting together and having a good time.

The meal was absolutely gorgeous, and neither Kellie nor I managed to spill any down our fancy clothes. From start to finish, the food was amazing. James was thrust into the limelight when he had to give a toast which was nice, though for an awful minute before he stood up, I thought I was going to have to stand up and say something.

*shudder*

After the meal, we went out into the garden. The sun was shining, the kids were bored, so fresh air and more photos were just the ticket. Sarah had us all posing, standing around looking cool and even pulling faces at one another. Again - she was brilliant. We cannot wait to see the photos.

We spent the entire afternoon at the George & Dragon, and at about five, everyone bar us and Sarah left again and headed to the hall for the reception. We then sat and had a drink together, enjoying the peace and quiet of rural Essex, just chatting and chilling out while waiting half an hour for our car to arrive. We chatting, discussed the day so far, and generally took a breather.

Once the car arrived, we finished our drinks, and were whisked off to the leisure centre in Pitsea for the Paaaaar-teeeeeeee!

Upon arriving, we were greeted by a small crowd that had already arrived, and looked at the hall that had been decorated before we got there. It looks absolutely amazing and wonderful. There were piles of food, balloons, banners, confetti, and we had our own specially-decorated table with extra balloons and stuff. The guest book was laid out, along with pictures of Bethany, Kellies Nan, and Nan & Grandad, and the DJ was playing background music.

And thus started the evening. Family, Friends, even our old couple living next door came along, kids, new partners... It was brilliant seeing everyone there. The music went up, and people started to dance pretty quickly, drinks were bought, and the evening went perfectly.

We cut the cake, posing for pictures holding a very sharp knife. We had our first dance to Jason Mraz - I Won't Give Up


Which went so well, I should add. We both teared up, and the day became very real in front of all our guests. We held one another close, ignored the world, and just... Danced.

The rest of the evening went by far too quickly. Like the rest of the day, it started, then, suddenly, it was rushing by. We kept stopping to take stock, to live in the moment, to think about what was going on around us, but all too soon, it was time for us to leave.

Reception

We said our goodbyes, had another slow dance, thanked everyone for everything, and the now-officially 0dd Mother-in-Law drove us to the hotel. We said our goodnights, and went to the room.

Which, of course, had been decorated.

By this point, we were both running on fumes. I had to help Kellie out of her dress *nudge-nudge* and she had to help me our of my suit *wink-wink* A quick shower, then we literally fell into bed. Well, after clearing the presents, chocolates and confetti off the bed first.

When I say, we were exhausted, I mean just that. Completely and utterly dead. What a lot of people don't realise, is that that morning, Kellie woke up with a very sore throat, and had spent a lot of the day sucking on throat lozenges. By 1am, her voice was pretty much doing the off, and Saturday morning, she sounded like the Emperor from Star Wars.

All that remained was to take one last picture (minds out the gutter!) and hit the lights...

Exhausted

The day was totally, completely, utterly, one-hundred-and-ten-percent perfect. It was so amazing and wonderful, words really do not do it justice.

To everyone that helped out and did something for us, a huge massive thank you. I am sure I have probably forgotten someone, but it is NOT intentional!

- Kerry, the maid of honour. Thank you so much for doing EVERYTHING for Kellie. I'm sorry that our very secret love affair, involving whispered conversations, late-night text messages, and secret gift-giving, has come to an end. But you did so much for the both of us, thank you.

- James, for being my anchor in amongst all the crazy, for taking me to London to geek out for the day, for your toast, and running me and everyone else around. Can't wait to see the pictures!

- Jaysen & Dominic, for being the best Best Men a Groom could ever ask for!

- Molly, Tamsyn, Amy & Zoe, for being the most beautiful of bridesmaids.

- Toby & Harry, for being the most super-cool Page Boys.

- Diane, the 0dd Mother-in-Law (officially), thank you for being there for us both, during every minute of every hour of every day. For getting the Bridesmaid dresses. For running people around. For keeping Kellie sane.

- Sarah, our photographer, of Prideaux Photography. Thank you for being an extra-special part of our day. You were more a guest than "Just a photographer" and you were totally brilliant. We are so looking forward to getting the pictures, and honestly loved having you with us.

- The staff at The George & Dragon, thank you for catering to such a rowdy bunch, for the amazing food and drink and the brilliant, flexible service.

- My dad, John, for arranging the car and driver for the day. And what a car!

- Sue, Kelly and Hayley, for decorating the hall.

- Gemma, the 0dd Sister, for running me around when needed, for all your help, advice and information you collated for us!

- Grandad Jim, for giving Kellie away.

- Nan Oz, for buying the cake.

- Ed & Les, for letting us use your home like a storage locker!

- The staff at Pitsea Leisure Centre, for a brilliant venue.

- All our guests, for the day and that came to the evening, thank you for celebrating our day with us, and making it absolutely perfect.

- And finally, to Kellie... For being there for me, through everything, suffering through my quirks and nuances, my mood swings, helping me through the days and nights when it's all I can do to get out of bed, for helping me through the times when the pain is winning, for being there, through thick and thin, for being my rock, my love, and most importantly, for being my wife.

The End

I'm afraid it has run its course, you and I. I can't say when it started to go downhill, but for at least a year, you and I haven't been on the best of terms... Let's be honest, we've been getting on each others nerves for a while now.

I know I am controlling, and try to put you in your place constantly, but even when I do it carefully, you still decide to break free, do your own thing, regardless of where we are, who we are with or what we are doing.

If I am honest, you've changed, a lot. You have really let yourself go, and it's not just me that has noticed it, others have pointed it out to me too. I tell them I know, and that I'm going to do something about it, but I never do.

And that's why, it's over. Done. Finished.

The last straw came when we were in bed a while back. I was tired, in pain, couldn't get comfortable, and I'm still not sure how you managed it, but you ended up trapping me where I lay. I had to wiggle free carefully, hurting myself in the process, and THEN had to untie myself from the headboard.

That was the last straw. It really was.

I know once you realise it's over, you will just accept it, but I do still love you - you've just outgrown me. I know that in time, someone else will love you - they will love you so much MORE than I ever could. To me, I suppose you were just an accessory... To someone new, you will be a new lease of life.

That's what I am aiming for, to make you more useful for another.

To that end, in a few short hours, you'll be gone. We'll both be different, I am sure of it, but it's for the best.

I'm sure the hairdresser will remove you very carefully, and then we will send you off to become wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy. The money I've raised having you cut off will go towards beating cancer, and saving the lives of children at the Evelina Children's Hospital.

And I will have short hair again.

Goodbye, my long hair, it's been fun - but I won't miss finding you in dinner. In the bed. In the hoover. On the side. Bloody everywhere, in fact!

I am over the moon that, including Gift Aid, I've raised over £1000 for ECHO and Cancer Research UK.

CLICK TO DONATE!

Yes, you can still donate, the page is still active, and there will be plenty of pictures. A massively huge huge thank you to everyone that has donated, shared, retweeted, and given me support. Yes, I'm going to miss my hair, but it is past the point I can cope with it. Kellie has to brush it for me most days, and it just pisses me off at times. It doesn't matter how tightly I tie it back, it just goes made and I end up looking like a mad professor.

Not that my hair will improve my looks, but you get the idea.

So, I've just washed it for the last time ever. I HATE washing it too - I have to brush it, use a shit-ton of shampoo on it, then spend ages rinsing it, then after a shower it takes all fricking day to dry... And it's always bloody knotted too.

I last had a hair cut at the end of January 2005, just before Bethany went into hospital for the last time. After I lost her, I decided there and then to remove my goatee (she HATED it!) and to not cut my hair again. But I believe that now, cutting it, I can give a little something back to the hospital that cared for her brilliantly, give back to the charity that helped me understand her neuroblastoma, and even by donating the hair, give children that need wigs a new lease of life. I don't feel bad that I am cutting it off... I am certain should would most definitely approve of my methods in fact.

So here's to today, by doing one simple act, with a little bit of sacrifice on my part, I can help so many people. Which was always Bethys legacy - she bought so many people together.

I See You Baby, and know you approve.

An 0dd Xmas Message

Here at Chez 0ddness, Christmas has been building slowly over the last four or five weeks, with presents being bought well in advance, wrapped and... no.. Wait...

Let me start over... This year hasn't been quite as manic in the run up to Crimbo as it usually is, and we have been done for longer than normal, but we have been busy these last couple of weeks.

However, for once, we were done before last-thing Xmas Eve. I was completely done 22 hours before Christmas Day. Usually, we're still wrapping/writing/stressing/arguing into the early hours of Christmas Day.

As is the case for life here, nothing runs as it does for others in the world. Case in point: At 8am this morning, Kellie and I had to wake up three of the four children.

I'll emphasis that a little more: we had to wake up children at 8am, Christmas Morning.

I know, it's like some sort of crazy alternative dimension.

By 9am, we were all sat and ready to go, and by 10am, all presents were open, cheered, shown-off and generally done. Kellie was a little pissed off as we had agreed not to do presents for one another this year. HOWEVER: I am a man and there is no way on this planet I am falling for THAT pitfall.

No sir, not this year, not next year, not ever.

To most people, you tell someone you got your better other half a massive beast of a photography printer/scanner/photocopier/fax and so on - and no matter HOW you sell it to another person, it never sounds right. None the less, that is what I got Kellie, a Kodak 6.1 Printer.

Yes yes, I know it sounds like the sort of gift a clueless geek gets someone, but this was actually something that Kellie wanted - however, we had agreed we'd get it together in the new year.

So: Sod. That.

After the scowls of "But-We-Were-Not-Doing-Presents" we started operation Clean The House. We had 50 minutes to get the house tidy, Jaysen & Tamsyn collected by their mum, the 0dd Mother In Law collecting us, packing bags, feeding cats, turning everything off and getting ready to go stay with the 0dd Mother In Law for a day and a half.

Surprisingly, we got everything done and dusted with time to spare.

See previous statement regarding an alternative dimension.

By midday we were off out and away to Canvey, and that is where we currently reside, sitting, chilling, eating WAY too much and having a jolly good time. Kellie, Diane, Dom and Molly are currently "SINGING" on SingStar, and I am pottering around on my phone, blogging, offering words of *cough*encouragement*cough* to those *cough*singing*cough*

Looking back on this past year, it's interesting to see where I started, where I am, and more importantly, how I got there - life is about the journey, not the destination or whatever...

The most obvious thing is my medical stuff, and while I am not any better (If anything, I think I'm worse) I like to think I am on the right path to getting better. I'm finally diagnosed, I'm finally getting help, and I hope and wish with all my heart that 2013 sees improvements both physically & mentally.

Kellie started the year in much the same predicament with her wonky/stressful Cardiac shenanigans, as well as her wonky/stressful Triglyceride shenanigans. However, like me, she is on the right track now and is being seen by both the Cardiac and now the Lipid clinic to get her fixed again.

Plans have not quite gone our way this year, but as there is very little we can do about it, we've drawn a line under it and are moving into 2013 with a positive outlook. More on that in the coming weeks no doubt. I DO need to rant and rave about it, but not yet.

The kids have all had great academic years, and aside from the boys having their own "blips" during the school year, they are both back on track and moving on. The girls on the other hand have had great years without any issue at all. I'm sure that will change as they get older, but fingers crossed they takes a while yet.

Next year - and I refuse point-blank to use the phrase "Resolution" because it's shite and if it goes wrong, it's like some sort of crappy failure... However, that said, next year, I am working on CHANGE. No no, not Obama-Change (No, don't go there America!) but actual change for me. Weight, Hair, Moods, Exercise, Visiting People & Places...

A lottery win wouldn't go amiss either.

Yes yes, people say this sort of stuff all the time, but I am really intending to do it. I NEED to lose weight, I NEED to get some sort of activity too - cycling or swimming. I'm even considering learning a language... The only drawback to this, is the fact that my brain cannot process new information very easily, so I'll have to get a book or audio-guide or something, see if I can do something over and over and eventually drill it into my brain.

But we shall see... As usual, watch this space, and I will slap out whatever I am doing at whatever point I am doing it.

All that remains to be said, is to you - my special little group of readers. Either those of you that come from Facebook, from Twitter, that subscribe to my RSS Feed, or actually visit the blog and read on the actual site... Thank you for reading, and here and there, where commenting. I write here for me - it's my little outlet in the world - but if even just one of you read and enjoy my ramblings, my rants or my tangents, then so much the better.

To readers old and new, friends that live yards away and friends that live scattered all the way across and around the world, thank you for reading, and here's to a very Merry Christmas. Peace on Earth, Good Will to all 0dd People!

Here's to 2013 being a bigger, better, and ESPECIALLY less... End-of-the-World-y...

-Dan

Yes, I'm 0dd... Get over it ;)

My Old Mum

We've all seen her. That woman with THAT child, doing her best to tell the child what he did was wrong and bad, but doing her best to not scream at that child, smack him with a vase and then hide the evidence.

Those woman can't hold a candle to my mum. That woman doing her best to not use the vase would have had a nervous breakdown if she had a son like, say, me...

That other woman wouldn't have known where to start. From the earliest age, it is safe for me to say I was a difficult child, but my mum dealt with it with the stoic patience of a rock. A very small, hard-to-break rock.

Maybe a diamond.

Dear Mum, 

Happy Mothers Day!

Thank you for everything you do for me - for us - and for somehow NOT killing me as a child. Thank you for sitting and talking to the doctors at the hospital on a very (very!) regular basis, and explaining to them HOW I fell over, HOW I fell off something, HOW I fell through something, HOW I fell out of something, HOW I managed to insert that sharp thing into my flesh...

Quite how Social Services never knocked on your door is beyond me...

But with every broken bone, every stitch, every concussion, every poisoning incident, you were there looking after me. It didn't matter that I had already been shouted at for being an idiot, for being somewhere I shouldn't have been, for doing something I was told not to do, for generally being me - you were there looking after me, making sure I was OK and loving me.

Despite everything that happened to us as a family, you were the glue that held everything together, and kept the house from falling apart around our ears. Even now, when I have a problem I can't get my head around, you're there, at the end of the phone, to listen and offer advice.

Happy Mothers Day mum, and thank you for everything you've done for me.

But mainly, thank you for not taking up that vase and telling the police I had run away...

Lots of love,
Me
(Best Son Ever!)

Happy Birthday!

Today is the day a great person was born. Today, one of the greatest men that ever lived arrived on the planet, and his goal in life was to make people smile, to teach people to live life, and to show that no matter what, you just had to keep pushing through everything.

Today, my Grandfather would have been 85 years old.

Albert "Oz" Osmotherly was probably the biggest male role-model in my entire life.  He was the one man that was always there when I needed him, when I needed a smile, when I had a stupid question that mum couldn't answer...

My earliest memory of him was him helping in the back garden of one of our old houses. I'm not entirely sure what he was doing, I just remember him, tanned leathery skin, working hard digging or something.  He was a hairy man, chest, back, arms... And as he got older, the hairs turned a silvery colour.

Quite often, Gemma & myself would stay over at Nan and Granddads for a couple of days - mainly to give mum a break from the pair of us - and if it were a weekday, it started early.  Half five in the morning, we'd all be up, he had to be at work in London, so we would have breakfast at the same time. Invariably, we would "argue" over who had the most toast, who ate all his lime marmalade, and he would have to change his tie because he generally ended up dripping egg yolk down it from his boiled egg and soldiers.

We would then see him off to the station, and spend the day with Nan, charging around, helping out, gardening, baking or whatever. When we knew he was due back, we'd sit and wait for him to get in, and he'd arrive after a long day, and sit and play with us, or sort out the garden bits Nan had left for him... He used to LOVE burning all the garden rubbish of an evening - a Smokey Joe's, he'd call it - and we would sit breathing in the smell of a summers night tinged with smoke.

Weekends he didn't have to work - but we were still up early - and usually doing PROPER garden stuff. It was Granddad that taught me to mix cement, set up a plumb line, doing pointing on a wall, and how to look after a garden.

If Gemma and me seemed bored, he would sort out something for us to do - his potting shed became the Kids Kafe, and he would arrive with things for us to sell him. However, we often used to get blamed for the things he did - he once heard he could trim his own hair with a razor, and upon trying it, he butchered his hairline.

He told his barber WE did it while he was asleep... GRANTED, we used to play with his hair all the time - he styled it with Baby Oil, so no matter what you did to it, it stayed like it.

He would tell us stories about the things he did in the war - parachuting injury scars, meeting nan by falling off a World War II Bomber wing and breaking his leg, things he did "behind enemy lines" and so on... We often thought his stories were just that, but after he died, we found declassified documents that pretty much confirmed the things he did behind enemy lines.

He served the United Kingdom in the Army, and travelled the world. He and Nan had mum while they were stationed in Suez, Egypt. They lived in Singapore and Australia at various times. After the Army, he worked in London, trying to work out how to redevelop land, scrub land left over from the war, wasteland that was old disused dock areas - land that today is known as Canary Wharf.

When he died, it was a sudden shock, and I couldn't believe it. He was such a big part of my life, and I often think about the things he taught me, how he gave me the values that I still hold true today.  He is also partly to blame for my slightly more mischievous side and my dark sense of humour.  Were it not for my Granddad, I would be a very different person today.  His best present, however, was on his 50th birthday, when I was born - even if he did think it was VERY unfair he had to celebrate with me!

So Happy Birthday, Granddad.  I miss you lots, and hope you're having a great time teaching people how to wind up everyone else!

Things To Get You Wet...

Being that this is the United Kingdom, and being that it's the tail-end of summer, the weather is pretty wonky.  To be fair, it has been pretty wonky all summer long, and "damp" is probably being quite generous.

Last weekend, the future-0dd-mother-in-law (she that irons pillowcases) took us to something different... You Americanos might scoff, but Open Air Cinema is not something that is a regular occurrence in these parts.  For reasoning, see paragraph one.  However, Diane had managed to book tickets to see Avatar on one of the local nature reserves. Blanket, coat, picnic, flask o' tea, sorted...

All was booked for Saturday.

Friday afternoon, she comes to collect Molly, and my laptop is open, displaying the weather - not through any sneaky reasons, it just happened to be on my homepage. Friday night, rain. Saturday daytime, occasional rain. Saturday night, rain and wind.

Diane: "Oh, I don't think that weather is right, the one I looked at said it'd be nice Saturday"
Me: "Really? The three I've seen today have all said rain for tomorrow..."
Diane: "But the BBC Weather..."
Me: "That's the BBC Weather you're looking at..."
Diane: "Oh... Maybe it's wrong then. We'll go by the weather report I saw yesterday."

Now, you may be forgiven in thinking this is a conversation with Kellie, but at least you can see A) Where she gets it from, and B) What I have to put up with...

So, Saturday dawns, I check the weather, and it's still showing rain for tonight. It IS, however, quite warm, so I throw shorts on and a jumper, and after Kellie purchases the worlds supply of food (bearing in mind, we're going for an evening) we set about making the picnic.

Diane comes and gets us, and the sky is, shall we say, a very interesting shade of grey.  Rainy Cloud Grey, you might call it... And we head off to Canvey. Five minutes before the arrive at the Canvey Marshes, it starts to rain a little bit.  "It's only drizzle, don't worry..." she says.

We get in, and are told to sit where we like.  I should also point out at this point, that I am carrying two packs of food, five chairs, and a blanket.  Pack Mule Dan.  We decide where to sit in relation to the inflatable screen, pop the chairs up and....

Down comes the rain.  Proper, wet, blown-by-the-strong-wind rain.  Kellie and Diane are wearing their waterproof coats, as are the kids.  I don't own a waterproof coat. Diane produces a sheet of tarpaulin for the kids to hide under, and gives me a brolly.  A brolly, I should add, that is very wonky, and pretty much stood in front of me so I don't get wet - the rain is coming down horizontally.

And it is pissing down.  Full on raining.

For SOME reason, the field starts to fill up, despite the pouring rain.  One group pop up a little tent, and Diane has the cunning plan of calling Jon (The future-0dd-step-father-in-law) and getting him to bring THEIR tent.  Fifteen minutes, he says he'll be. So Mother & Daughter run off to wait "by the car" which I am still certain translates to "Sit In The Warm Dry Car"

Rainbow!

They were missing for about 45 minutes. Me and the kids were sat in the rain trying not to drown.  Then slowly, it petered out and stopped properly raining, and just spatter-rained.  Off to one side, a really bright rainbow puts in an appearance - brighter than it appears in this photo - and we oooh and aaah at that. My legs are soaked, my boots are soaked (but dry on the inside, thank you Karrimore!) and, 0ddly, my arms are soaked.  Dom & Molly have soaked coats, Molly has soaked everything in fact because she kept getting out from under the tarp, and Dom has just minorly damp jeans.

Then eventually, Mother & Daughter roll back into the field.  Watching the two of them put up the "tent" was most amusing with the wind, but they didn't need my help.  And when I say "tent" I mean "Windbreak That Is Questionable In Its Waterproofness"  There are also no pegs, so we decide to weigh it down.

Kids Cowering Sheltering

With the kids.

They are thrown in there along with their couple of bags (which contain blankets) and their food is poured in, their flasks of hot chocolate handed to them, and we sit.

Being that Smart Moi is in shorts, I'm a bit chilly, so have a cuppa and put Kellies woolly jumper on my legs - she's got a thick coat on which doesn't do up with the jumper under it.  So, claimed.

The movie, it turns out, can't come on yet.  Too bright. Have to wait for the Burning Orb That Is The Sun to go do, which, just to take the piss, is now out and mocking us with it's warmth.  "Here you go, warm up, because I'm doing a running in a minute just under the horizon!"

I'm stood up now, I figure that if I move around a bit, I'll warm up in no time. So, I'm up, effectively dancing on the spot trying to get some of that warm blood-stuff in my body to do it's circulatory thing and take warmth all around my body.  As much as I wanted to see the movie, I didn't want to watch the movie while suffering from hypothermia.

Of course, I am sure the others would have found it highly amusing. But I refuse to die for the amusement of others.

A Very pretty Sunset

SLOW-as-you-like, the sun starts to fall out of the sky, but, being that I am ever-so-eagle eyed, I spy the fresh bank of big, dark, ominous, wet-looking clouds that are looming on the horizon.

And to make matters worse, they are approaching with alarming speed.  I point see them, turn, point them out to those that care listening, and turn back, only to see them much much closer now.

Being that the sunset is quite pretty, I take several photographs of it. One, because I am still up and about doing the random-dance in order to get a teeny bit warmer, and two, because I wanna.

All this time - despite the previous, current, and expected weather - people are turning up into this sodding field, setting up their camping chairs and tents and blankets and picnics and everything else, and all I can think of is that I've accidentally joined some Camping Cult that, at the end of the field, will simultaniously commit suicide by throwing itself on a sharpened Thermos Flask.

Bane of my Life...

Well not this person, nu uh.  The movie is yet to start (Avatar, remember - nearly three hours of blue giants running around) and already I am cold and damp.  Figuring this may be my last day on earth, I get a photo of those responsible for my untimely demise for the forensic teams to use should the need arise.

Hopefully the poor couple behind us will be helped by this photograph being published too...

After a few minutes of taking this photo, the heavens opened (again) and I scurried for my chair/jumper/brolly combo.  With the kids in the tent, however the tarpaulin was now free. As was the blanket.

I get a bit of both in an effort to stay warm (ish) and dry (ish) and to see what's happening on the screen.  Oh yes, plus I wear glasses so they are covered in water as well.

Kellie hears the word "Free" and is off like a shot, and around us, I see people donning what appear to be Medical Waste Bags. Over here in the UK, our rubbish is categorised by the colour of the sack it's placed in, and as far as I could see, everyone around us was donning medical waste bags - bright yellow rubbish sacks.  They were giving these away for free, so Kellie grabbed one and made suggested I put it on to help stay dry.

Still no movie, I should add.

Now, dear reader, you should try to picture me.  I am sat in a field. Wearing shorts and boots. Part of my legs are covered in a greenish jumper. Part of my body is wrapped in a blue blanket. Another part of my body is wrapped in striped tarp. I am also wearing a hooded yellow plastic bag. And sunglasses.  AND I'm shivering like a little dog in a public place.

THEN Kellie hands me some food.  THAT was easy to eat...

Finally we have some form of movement from the organisers, and a lady comes on the loudspeaker and thanks us all for braving the weather - there are four HUNDRED people sat in this field. She goes on about some of the stuff the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protect of Birds) do on the marshes, and then gets the film going.

Almost - first there's the ten minute random clips of random critters - prolly making sure the projector hadn't been washed away I suppose.

Now it's virtually dark, and Avatar goes on.  Most people cheer.  My teeth chatter. Saves on energy chewing the cheese sandwich I suppose.

AND the rain stops!  It's still bloody windy, BUT the rain has stopped!

I love Avatar.  I think it's a brilliant movie (even if it is just Pocahontas with blue people) but can't help notice how cold I am.  And such is my shivering, that Kellie notices too.  The entire blanket is bundled around me, the jumper is wrapped around my legs, but I am still made to wear the clinical waste coat.  Tea is pushed my way, as is food and sweeties, but I remain shivering for the entire movie.  Proper full-on whole-body juddering.  I've gotten damp, and now the wind is blowing through me and stealing my body heat, so I am a coooold Dan...

I am good - I don't check a watch nor a clock nor a phone - I just go with it. I'm enjoying the movie, and after all how often do you get to sit in a marsh in the black of night watching a film on a blow-up cinema screen while soaked to the skin and shivering in the blowing rain all while eating a picnic.

In September.

The last scene in the movie flashes on the screen for it's two-seconds, but already I am up, out and moving.  I am packing up, clearing up, folding up and generally grabbing whatever belongs to us.  I NEED to get to the car and I NEED to get that heater on.

Like the wind that has been gnawing at me all evening, I am moving like a thing possessed, and do believe we packed up quicker than it took us to dump everything out.

No sooner are we back in the car and the engine is warm, I've got the vents aimed at me, full heat, full force.  But I'm dead on the inside. My body is all gross and corpsified, and the journey home doesn't warm me up.  By the time we get in, it's nearly 11pm. Kids are thrown into their respective beds, and I am cranking up the heating, the rads and throwing myself into bed with Kellie.  I decide the best course of action is to steal her body warmth. 

Despite being cold and wet and shivering, we all had a brilliant night.  Next time (!!) I think I will wear a couple of pairs of everything I own, PLUS the blanket and tarpaulin. And a hot water bottle too ;)

But the evening did teach me one thing... No, nothing to do with my attire... No, it taught me that the Great British Public will sit through till the bitter end if they have paid for something in advance.  It doesn't matter how much rain fell out of the sky onto us, it doesn't matter if the wind blew the first three layers of our skin off, we paid for those tickets, so we will bloody well get our moneys worth out of it!!