Who is Fruitloopmum?

They seek her here,

They seek her there,

Those readers seek her everywhere,

Is she loopy or just plain dumb?

That damned elusive Fruitloopmum!

Hi Fruitloop fans. I got a polite but terse email over the weekend requesting that I submit my photo for inclusion on a mummy's blogging site. Uh-oh, sorry guy's no can do. Well at least not a real photo of me anyway. There are some very good reasons for this, and they're pretty obvious to anyone who reads my posts:

- I have recently made a dramatic and long-awaited escape from a psychopathic husband and have actually been writing humorous posts about him. Yeah, that pretty much confirms the loopy part of me. Probably not a good idea that he finds out about this though. You've all seen the film "Sleeping with the Enemy" right? Well admittedly, I haven't actually had to fake my own death (I just managed a disappearing act that David Copperfield would have been proud of - along with half the furniture one day) but that film is pretty close to my story. However, I don't want to fake my own death just yet. I've only just re-discovered fun, love and laughter.

- Even if I managed to escape the physical attentions of said psycho, I can guarantee that I'd be in court for defamation quick as. See, although many people have witnessed said psycho's behaviour, he's oh so desperate to make everyone think he's normal. My defence would be that I haven't written anything that is untrue, and I have the paperwork to prove it! But, I've been in court more times than the f**ing bathroom in the last few years thanks to this bugger, and I really don't fancy any further courtrooms just yet, thank you.

- Here's another really good reason for not identifying myself.....My posts are absolutely FULL of swearing, sex and body parts. In real life, I actually look like a sweet, innocent, yummy mummy. Hell, most of my casual acquaintances would be mortified if they knew about the real me. I would probably be barred from the parents association, the library and the women's knitting circle if they knew I was Fruitloopmum.

Okay, so my close friends and some of my family are aware of my identity, but I reckon they love me warts, wicked indiscretions and all ,and they're not likely to dob me in to The Psychopath or the school committee, but I still have to be careful. So, my apologies to anyone who is remotely interested, but I will not be posting my picture or revealing my identity any time soon. You'll have to make do with some colourful fruit loops. Come to think about it, I'll probably be barred from the nice mummy blogging site anyway once they actually read my blog!

What's in your genes?

I have to say, I was shocked.

Bemused and embarrassed came close, but shocked was a more apt description of my feelings when I realised that my mum had lived a secret life.

She'd managed to keep a lid on the whole thing until I was about 35. There was I thinking that my mum, that sweet, quiet, gentle woman who had raised my brother and I, was just an average, much-loved, run-of-the-mill, mum and grandma. You know, the type you see portrayed in nice family TV shows. But, oooh no....One fateful night I discovered that beneath that quiet, unassuming exterior was a sexy, sassy, fun-loving, hell-raising, bloody maverick! So forget Carol Brady in the Brady Bunch and think Patsy from Ab Fab.....

Actually, in retrospect I should have realised that something didn't quite add up. As a child I remember being sent home from school to change because my outfit was distracting the class. It was about 1969 and mum had made me a dress with little hippy bells on. Then there was the case of the black PVC hotpants....yeah, let's not go there. Oh, and of course those friends of hers. As a child, you tend not to evaluate or judge adults too much but thinking back now 'eclectic and left-of-centre' would be a bit of an understatement!

So back to the fateful night of the revelation.......

After 30 years I met up with a childhood friend who had lived next-door to us in the 70's. We picked up where we had left off and even settled an old argument about those coveted Chopper Bikes. Anyway, we decided that it would be a fantastic idea to get our mums together too as they had been quite good mates back then. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

What subsequently followed was an evening of hilarious reminiscing in such intimate detail between two 60 year olds, that the conversation on adjacent tables stopped so that they could enjoy the entertainment. My friend and I were appalled. Highly entertained, but appalled by our mother's revelations. Their stories featured police raids, parties, joints, unsavoury characters, hair-raising antics, and as for the sex.....Well, I mean, you just don't like to think of your mum having a sex life at all do you? Let alone a better one than you've had! We decided to frog-march the pair outside when as a finale, they began discussing oral sex. Enough was enough.

So, what am I saying here?

Well, I guess my point is this: Until the age of 35 I thought that I was the only sexy, sassy, fun-loving, hell-raising fruitloop in the family.... Funny that.

Post Script - provided by my brother via Facebook last night.

"Sis, mum just drove us back to the airport. On the way I asked about the old friend of hers that she'd taken the kids (my niece and nephew) to visit in Soho yesterday. Mum said "Yes, he played the piano for them, but I think he only smokes the occasional joint now, and of course he is gay!!" I just sat in the back of the car in stunned silence....and you wonder where you get it from?"

PPS. For those who have done the math....my mum is into her seventies!

So, when exactly did you realise you had married a psychopath?

It was a straight forward enough question, over a glass of wine at a party.

We had been chatting about relationships and there was a frisson of something in the air between us. I felt a nervous twitch coming on. All his fault of course...'the ex' and the twitch...not the very cute guy interrogating me.

The trouble was, it was a bummer of question to answer and the cute guy knew it because he was grinning mischievously at me. I mean, how do you explain a ten-year marriage to a psychopath without making yourself look like a complete fruit loop yourself?

Obviously, I could have gone on the defensive, explaining that psychopaths are masters of disguise, you know, seemingly normal and often charming people until someone or something tips them over the edge.

I could have recounted the psychologist's explanation that 'the ex' suffered from the same personality disorder as both Hitler and allegedly Stalin. Shouldn't that elicit some degree of sympathy and understanding from my sexy interrogator?

Or, I could have given a boring monologue of dates and times when I noticed that 'the ex' was behaving just a little left of centre, and then cleverly lifted the conversation with the hilarious story about my 'aha moment'

Hell, even the explanation that I am a truly benevolent soul, believing in the best in people until proven otherwise makes me sound like a naive nutcase given a ten year marriage.

Now let's face it, it's not often that a divorced mum of four gets chatted up by a good-looking younger man. I damn well wasn't going to let this opportunity pass without some attempt at making it clear that I consider myself to be a balanced, emotionally mature, exceedingly yummy mummy.

I took a sip of wine, gave him my sexiest, most mischievous smile back and told the absolute truth.....

"Well, I suppose I realised the day that I stood in the laundry dosing all of his underpants with itching powder"