Mummyfried

Every day, I push a boulder up a hill. It’s shaped like my daughter — brilliant, sensitive, misunderstood. But I’m not pushing her. I’m pushing the weight of judgment, bureaucracy, and the constant need to prove she belongs. She was bullied again. The more it happens, the more she retreats, becoming “weird” in their eyes. And now the school says she should go to a special school. Bullshit. They don’t want to support her — they want to pass her on. We’ve changed schools before. A kind but clueless principal shut the door. I had high hopes for this one, but here we are. I’m heartbroken and angry. At the same time, I’m searching for a therapist who sees her, not just as a case file or a checklist. This is someone’s life — not a 9 to 5. Your words and your choices shape her happiness. I’m not asking for the answer I want. I’m asking you to look at my daughter and see the brilliance she carries. The fire, the sparkle, the potential. Neurodivergent kids need a break, not a shove....

Until yesterday, I looked at my angels and saw two mini versions of me.   Mini-Me 1:  A pre-baby body.  A pre-Mr Lucky, pre-debt, pre-stress, and exhaustion from cleaning cooking working, and caring (not in that order). A fit, healthy, rested body - a result of sleeping in till 2 pm after five nights of solid clubbing, hence laughing, exercising, flirting, and genuinely enjoying life. An occasionally clumsy, happy, cool cat that moved in different social circles with lots of friends.    Mini-Me 2: Post-baby body. A doughy soft, perpetual beginners level yogi, with a LOVE  of good food, a select group of very very good friends sprinkled with a blessing of earth angels who have made me laugh, be grateful for what I have, and who encouraged me to appreciate the small things, and become someone filled with endless buckets of positive affirmations, a sun worshiper in a bikini with that 'I know, I shouldn't, but I  am happy and it's comfortable' fa...

I suffer from PTSD. Yes, another ailment to add to my many. No, I have never thankfully been in the line of true fire, and the following does not intend to be disrespectful to anyone that has ...but being back in work environment occasionally gives me flashbacks to a work environment of a few years ago.  And the story goes like this... I sit at my desk and feel my heart beat faster each time she walks past my office. I wonder why, at age with years of experience under my belt I experience such a knee jerk, projectile vomit, knot in my tummy reaction when my eyes follow her as she strides by. I loathe every moment I have to interact with her. The trenches were dug and war announced before I even had time to warm my desk chair. This woman had her war cry entrenched in her psyche years before she joined this work battlefield. She has 'Warning, Armed Mean Person' tattooed on her forehead. I observe her guarding the CEO's office, waiting, watching for her opportunity t...

. I often don’t write about things that make my blood boil or things that upset me. I take all that out on Mr. Lucky, and I pity my keyboard. It has already lost the TAB button and I don’t think I could bear it if I lost any other key. Being in Greece for some time now I have seen shops close, people lose their jobs, and homes. The Greek financial crisis has created a fear that has dented Greece’s normally euphoric,’ live and love life to the fullest ‘state of being. There is a growing divide between those who have, and those who have not. We were in a taverna the other day. A young man came in selling candles. Nobody bought any. He left looking devastated, desperate and lost.  After lunch, we walked to a children’s play cafe to let Little Miss run around. While we sat there, the same young man came in this time without his bag of candles and asked the proprietor for work.  Without even looking at him, the proprietor asked him to leave.  As he esc...