The warrior's guide to survival

Oh dear oh dear, well, I've finally found out exactly what you've been telling everyone and it is quite ludicrous, not to mention highly exaggerated, what shred of truth it actually contains.  Here's one that you told my mother too: "she's been a crackhead for twenty years"...think about this carefully - is this the same twenty years when I somehow managed to get a degree, AND a Masters? in Computing?  (well, lets not lie I didn't do the dissertation, I got  PGDip, but nonetheless still managed to pass two years worth of hard study).  Is this the same twenty years within which time I travelled the world, studied kung fu, boxing, kick boxing and escrima? I was a stripper when we met and you helped me turn my life around. Oh, how I lol'd at this one.  Yes, I was a stripper, I'm not ashamed of that.  YOU should be ashamed that you were a punter, well, I say punter, you and your mates weren't punters you were tourists, you came in for a drink an

Dearest Son of mine, Wowee you are growing at a rate of I-don't-know-whats at the moment, physically and mentally.  One moment I forget you are only three and a half because you are amazing me with witty conversation and worldly knowledge, and then the next moment I am reminded of your age when you crumple into an emotional heap of tears because I have told you that you can't eat fish and chips for breakfast and sweets for tea. I love it when I hear "I love you Mummy" and, "I am so happy, I just can't stop being happy", and words of wisdom such as "I know Mummy, what we need is a giraffe!".  I like less when I hear "I am going to put you in the bin". You think you can fix anything "I'm an engineer", and if you can't fix it, I will be able to fix it, and if I can't fix it, Grandad will, in his amazing workshop with all the tools.  I love that workshop too, you can definitely fix most things there. You and y

Hello my honey bunny, Actually, you'd object to that, you object to being called anything that you are not, such as 'baby' ("I'm three and a half!").  Unless we are playing, and you love to play pretend games, such as tortoise, where you hide under my pink washing basket and shuffle around the floor, or pussy cat where you miaw and let me stroke your hair.  Or dog, where I throw a toy and you fetch it, or if we are on an actual dog walk, you attach the lead to me or yourself and we take turns.  Now you are stronger, we play koala too - a bit like a piggy back but with you holding yourself on.  You invent great games, like today we were at the park near the trains (your favourite) and we took your boom bats, a couple of cars and a cricket bat and ball and you invented several hours of games to keep us entertained and active. You make me laugh so much, and now you are older I know you do it on purpose, to me and other people too, you love being the entertai

Well hello my love, and its been such a lovely summer.  You have grown in height, in shoe size and of course wit and intellect and you continue to amaze me daily with your words and actions.  We have just had a quiet week, mostly me and you, enjoying what will probably be the last of the summer sun. We had an amazing holiday in Norfolk again, and we were both sad to leave.  But when we returned, we had a half birthday party for you at Granny and Grandads house. It was a fantastic Thomas themed day and ran on way past the finish time.  Your best friends attended; Oliver, of course, and Benjamin and Elodie, Eva, Chloe and Kian, William and Georgina.  Your new friends Charlotte, Thomas and James came and they brought with the their remote controlled Thomas to play with.  You liked it so much that I found you one on ebay and then the sound drove me bonkers.  Actually,  I think it drove us both a bit bonkers because you let me tape polystyrene to the windows in an attempt to block out the

We are back at the same holiday home that we stayed at last year.  You are one year older, two inches taller and a hundred times cheekier, more inquiring and more eloquent.  Ive been meaning to write to you since my last letter in Novemeber.  Last winter I first of all had the court case with Darren to contend with and then I was so ill with the mystery skin thing I had and still plagues me in a lesser way today.  I could not write while the court thing dragged on. All I could think of saying to you were so many apologies for not choosing the perfect dad for you.  But you are you because of the unique set of genes that your father and I have combined and so you wouldn't be you if I had not met your dad.  I wouldnt change you for the world.  You are a unique, kind, strong, funny, clever, compassionate and beautiful inside and out.  You are confident and healthy and can climb, jump and run with such ease that I envy your self assurance and physical ability.   I was always a bit rubb