Used Cars and Shiny Suits

Buy a used car as a single woman? I think I’d rather go skydiving.

That moment when something goes wrong with your car, whether it is a complete breakdown on the motorway or a funny knocking sound coming from the engine area, you know it’s going to be a pain, and you know it’s going to be expensive.

Recently my car has been making more weird noises, things that are supposed to open don’t and intermittently where there should be a digital dashboard there is only darkness. The dilemma – do I fix the things that are wrong or do I cut and run, part exchange it whilst the faults are still relatively minor?

My car is a family wagon, 7 seats of fun with all the cubby holes, cup holders, tray tables, high road tax, massive petrol bill and poor manoeuvrability your average family could want. (ok so that last one is more about the driver, but it’s big and hard to park) It made sense when we were a family of four plus dog. Now we are a family of three it doesn’t seem to fit with us anymore. This could be down to its size but I suspect it has more to do with the fact the Ex chose it.

So decision one made, the beast has to go. Decision two, what to replace it with? As images of slimy car sales men, dodgy back street ‘Eastender style’ garages and trawling Autotrader flash through my mind I start to feel a bit perturbed. Being a single woman the chances of being ripped off seem inordinately high. I could ask my Dad to come with me, I know he would but he is so busy I would feel guilty. I could ask the man in my life but as I don’t think we are at the ‘car shopping’ stage that’s a no. I could ask my brother, but as he is currently a 40 hour and four plane journey away, this is not a viable option either. I guess it’s just me then.

Bull-by-the-horns style I set off to look at used cars. My criteria: 5 doors, room for the pushchair and shopping, cheap road tax and must look pretty. Now scoff at the last one if you will, but I want something I like after driving round for two years in the ugly monstrosity the Ex’s kindly picked for me. A few helpful sales men later and I see it. Shimmering red, cute and slightly under my budget, it meets all the requirements. A test drive later and I’m sold so the Sales Manager and I set about the merry dance that is negotiation.

He is wearing a shiny suit I can only assume he bought from Car Sales Men R’Us, informing me of how much he has spent on new tyres and the extra warranty. I look disappointed at the amount he offers for my car, he points out the dent in the back bumper (don’t know when I did that) and the fact he is offering 12 months tax. We finally meet in the middle, but something stops me from signing on the dotted line. I tell the shiny suit I’ll think it over and get back to him.

Prudence is no bad thing but this is more that that, this is indecision. Something is bothering me that I can’t put my finger on. A cup of tea and half an hour of chewing my mum’s ear off about the pros and cons of it all and I realise what it is. It’s not the car or the deal, it’s me. The responsibility of making all the decisions for our family can be a heavy burden. Everything from what we eat, to where we live is down to me. It can be great, there is no compromise but there is also no support and reassurance of the eventual choice.  Whilst I am not walking my life’s path alone, the two little hands that hold mine look to me for guidance. It can be daunting but I have to trust my own judgment, accept that I won’t always get it right and forgive myself the mistakes I make.

Driving my shiny new car home I feel a bit of pride at the deal I negotiated.  It’s another miles stone (no pun intended) in my single life. Another thing I have proved to myself I can do. Now fingers crossed everyone I haven’t just bought a lemon.

You know you have a toddler when

You wake up in the morning ready for battle and go to bed at night not sure who won

You feel the baby days fading away as nappies, pushchairs and quiet milk feeds all slowly disappear

You sound like a broken record, the stressed out mother you used to judge in the supermarket and, worst of all, your own mum

You start thinking the male Cbeebies presenters are cute and find yourself singing the Pepppa Pig theme tune in the shower

You are ‘that’ parent allowing your small child to wee in a lay-by, behind a tree, down a drain or pretty much anywhere

Your handbag is filled with crayons, stickers, baby-wipes and raisins, your lip gloss is dusty in the draw, no time for that now

You have to hide to eat a biscuit but have an audience when you use the toilet

You get passed a banana phone and actually speak into it

You think 7am is a lay in and a complete impossibility

You find Weetabix glued to your jeans at the end of the day and realise you have been out like that, but you are too tired to care

You need at least 20 minuets notice to leave the house and popping to buy a pint of milk feels like an epic journey

You wonder what you used to do with your time and money, what peace and quiet is and where you sanity has gone

You can’t remember what your carpets look like because they are always covered in toys, but it fine because you haven’t got the time or energy to hoover anyway

Your are word perfect in The Bear Hunt and Hairy Maclary but can’t remember anything else

You start counting down the hours till bed time at 10 am and wonder if it is ok to have a glass of wine before they are fast asleep at night

You smile through gritted teeth when well meaning people say ‘enjoy this age, it goes so quickly’

You see a glimpse of the child they are growing into and it makes your heart melt

You know your love for them is infinite so you try to have patience and understanding

You know you have a toddler when your looking forward to the time you can reflect with rose coloured glasses at these stressful, crazy, funny, difficult days 

A Passion for Writing

How often do you have the opportunity to indulge a passion? Well last week I did just that on an Arvon writing course.

Wet and late was not how I had planned to arrive after six months of anticipation, but no one told the M62 or the Yorkshire weather. Winding my way through the narrow lanes, the weather getting worse, the light fading and the directions getting evermore complicated I begin to question my judgement at booking this in the first place. But when I finally arrive the warm welcome calms my anxiety, reassuring me of my choice for a week away.

The Arvon foundation runs residential courses to assist writers with unlocking their creativity. I chose Beginning to Write at Lumb Bank, a house set in the stunningly beautiful West Yorkshire countryside that once belonged to Ted Hughes.

Our tutors for the week are as contrasting as they are inspiring. The irrepressible poet, Lemn Sissay, energetic and funny; the wonderful and insightful Hannah Pool a journalist and author. Both equally passionate about writing and helping others develop their voice and style. They guide us through the stimulating workshops with a good mix of technical information, enthusiasm and humour.

Living at Lumb Bank with the 15 other students is an experience in it’s self. Sharing creativity and talent along side cooking and washing up, they become a surrogate family; warm, nurturing, good fun and with the odd strange one (mentioning no names, you know who you are). As the week rolls on, the wine and conversation flow more easily and lasting friendships are formed.

So what did I learn? I have a voice, inspiration is everywhere, self editing is vital and most importantly, write something, anything, every single day and trust the process. Would I go again? Without hesitate. Before the course I packed plenty of guilt with my laptop and wellies, leaving the girls with their Dad for a week felt very selfish. But I have come home with so much more than a technical improvement in my writing, I have focus, motivation and a new, wonderful feeling of being at peace with myself.

The Terrible Two

Well life has certainly got away from me over the last few weeks; I can’t believe that we are already at half term. The last few weeks have gone by in a blur of getting up, dressed, breakfast, out the house for school, doing my day job, rushing home to pick the girls up, then swimming, food shopping, book reading, tea cooking, laundry doing, pack lunch making, bath time, bed time and then me lying face down on the sofa in a state of complete exhaustion!

In between all of this the terrible two’s have hit our house in a big way. CJ is developing into a playful, cheeky, loving little girl, but with this comes the steep learning curve that she can’t have everything her own way. She is also into everything! If she not tipping a box of 6 50 piece jigsaws on the floor, she is climbing on the table, emptying the bubble bath on the floor, picking the cat up by her tail, jumping on the sofa, running off or taking all the baby out the packet. She can often be found in ‘time out’ and the most commonly used phrases in our house at the moment are ‘CJ no, Mummy said no, now put the cat/snack basket/jigsaw/bubble bath, anything else she can get her little fingers on, down’ The selective hearing usually kicks in and so this is then closely followed by ‘CJ that behaviour is not ok’

But far worse than all mess she now makes is the tantrums. A word that will strike fear into heart of any parent with a toddler. There haven’t been many (yet!) but she can go from sweet to horrible in less than a second and will communicate her disapproval at the word ‘No’ in the most vocal and animated way possible.

So it came to be that during a recent trip to Sainsbury’s CJ could be found screaming, face down on the floor, myself and IK watching on. Now you might think that I would be embarrassed by this behaviour but actually on this occasion I wasn’t. You see firstly I have lived through this stage with IK and we both came out the other end relatively un-scathed so I have hope it won’t last forever. Secondly I understand that a tantrum is not necessarily her being badly behaved at her age it is really just an overflow of emotion. CJ is a strong willed little lady who is learning how to deal with life and trying to find where her boundaries are. When she doesn’t like those boundaries she can’t always cope with the flood of emotions that brings, so it overflows out of her in torrent she isn’t yet able to control. I’m sure we can all relate to how she is probably feeling, although for most adults it is not usually over a Peppa Pig magazine and I personally try to keep the face down screaming in Sainsbury’s to a minimum!

But that said, I will not be dictated to by a two year old, even if I do love her more than life itself. So it is my job to teach her that yes these emotions are difficult to deal with, but screaming / shouting / hair pulling are not the best ways to do this. That is hard for a two year old to understand so the only way I can communicated this with her is to try and ignore the negative behaviour and praise her on those occasions when she does listen or I do say no and she manages to carry on with life in more composed way.

However, the theory is great, but in practice some days my supply of patience is rather depleted and sometimes I’d quite frankly rather walk away and pretend the screaming child belongs to someone else. But this particular day I didn’t, IK and I stood there watching her, getting funny looks and the odd tut, then IK said the funniest thing ‘Mummy this is not ok is it!’ her tone exactly the same as mine (hardly surprising as I say it about 50 times a day). And I laughed ‘No IK it isn’t, but she is learning so we need to be patient with her, and she will stop soon’ which she did. Despite it feeling as though an hour of my life had passed it was probably less than two minutes. CJ stood up and looked at me, I asked her if she was finished, she said yes and we carried on with our day, without the Peppa Pig magazine that had started the whole thing.

So to those who’d tut whilst my littlest lady is behaving in this way I would say this:

‘I’m trying to bring this little person up to be a well mannered, well behaved, confident, thoughtful, happy young lady. I’m doing this incredibly difficult, demanding and emotional job, twice and alone. I don’t get it right every day and neither does she, but we are both trying our best to find our own way through the complicated journey of life. So I would ask for some patience and understanding, your dirty looks and tuts are as offensive to me as my child screaming is to you, so keep your opinions to yourself and if you really can’t…..just sod off!’

First days of School

Such a big day for every family. The first day of School. Almost since the day IK was born I have imagined what that day would feel like, watching her walk into school in her uniform. Some times I have wanted it to come quickly, usually on the days she has driven me slightly crazy, other times I have wanted to slow time down and keep her little and at home safely with me.

After applying almost a year ago and months of build up with leaving nursery, taster days at school and uniform buying, the day finally dawned. I watched my little girl dress herself in her uniform, so far from that small baby who was dressed in white baby grows, helpless and tiny. I brushed her long blond hair and tied it up, so far from the crazy mop of dark hair she was born with that smelt like baby shampoo and powder. I watcher her, walking hand in hand with her sister, down the street to her first day at school, in some ways so grown up, so ready for this big step and yet, still so much my little baby.

This day was so far away from what I had been imagining for the first three and a half years of IK's life. I had always thought we could go as a family, her Dad with us, hand in hand, sharing the pride of our daughter growing up, remembering the baby she was, wondering at the young woman she would grow into. The reality was different; it was just us three, braving another new adventure together. Her Dad was not there, he had completely missed this special moment in our little girl's life. It can never be re captured, but it is not the first important time he  has missed and it wont be the last. I wondered how both girls would feel looking back on their childhood and realising their Dad missed so many things. This is one of the hardest things to for me to come to terms with as a single parent. If we had both tired harder, would our girls be having a happier childhood, or was this outcome inevitable? Did his sudden departure merely save us from a few unhappy years before we eventually called time on our marriage? It’s a question I know there will never be an answer to. So I have to comfort myself that over a year on from our separation, both girls have adjusted to our new life and seem happy and content.

So I left IK in the classroom, looking slightly apprehensive but sitting ready to start this journey with the other children in her class. When I picked her up later she emerged with her usual happiness and seemed totally un phased by the big step she had taken. The funny thing about the first day of school was it is only the beginning. I had focused so much on the first day I had forgotten that she would be going every day! The world of the school run, packed lunches and homework will now dominate our lives for many years to come, but for now I am just pleased she has settled in so well 

Working, Weddings and Feeling, Well, Rubbish

Well it has been a while since my last post and that is because quite frankly life has got away from me a bit.

Working – Just in case you were wondering I didn’t take my own mug and I opted for a skirt and smart white top. It is so far so good. My first week was great, I got to meet lots of new people, drink lots of tea and drive a golf buggy. The second week was when the work started coming in, and it’s a good job I like to be busy because I think I will be. It has been more tiring than I thought, even though I am only working part time, and it is safe to say the housework and laundry have been slightly out of control, but if something has to give, I’m happy for it to be that!

Weddings – There is something quite surreal about attending a wedding with your ex husband. I will explain a bit more. One of the ex’s friends from school got married last week and it is someone I have know since before I even got together with the ex (a mutual friend thing that is too complicated to go into). So I was really touched when the girls and I were still invited to the wedding, despite having divorced his friend. We came to the mutual decision not to take the girls (small children + wedding = no fun for mummy). The wedding was beautiful and full of little individual touches that really showed the couple personality, my favourite was the song that was played during the signing of the register Stevie Wonder’s Signed Sealed Delivered (I’m yours), very cute.

The champagne and wine flowed, the food was lovely, there was much dancing and lots of fun had. But being at a wedding with the person whom you made those, supposed binding vows with was strange. It wasn’t awkward and we didn’t argue, it was just weird thinking how I’d felt the day we had got married and how it had ended. With him being so physically close, and yet our lives are now so far apart. There was a funny moment however when we were stood outside the reception having a chat about the girls and some mutual friends when a friend did a casual walk by, I think at the insistence of his wife, to make sure we were busy killing each other! It has been hard at times, to preserve our amicable relationship, and I know that it isn’t always possible; divorce is a painful and at times traumatic process that brings with it a lot of anger and resentment. But it has definitely been worth the effort, after all, we have at least 16 years of parenting our girls to do!

Feeling, well, Rubbish – The thing I hate most happened this weekend, D&V hit our house. It started with CJ and meant our plans for a weekend away visiting friend were out the window. After being up most of the night being sick she seemed ok, if tired. My mum took IK out for lunch then to play at hers so me and CJ could catch up on some much needed rest. Now I have more reasons than most to hate it when either me or the girls get sick, you see I used to suffer with emetophobia (a fear of vomit) It is a this point that many of you may laugh, but trust me when I say this fear, like many other, was debilitating and at times ruled my life. I would avoid any situation where I could potentially get trapped with someone being sick (train rides, limo rides, hotel stays etc) and I missed many birthday and hen nights. In fact it reached crisis point when IK got a tummy bug (and so did the ex) when she was about two. I was a nervous wreck and wanted to run away and leave them both. Not the caring, loving mummy reaction I would hope for. So I invested in a self hypnosis course specifically designed for emetophobia and whilst I felt generally calmer and stopped (almost completely) avoiding potentially sicky situations, I had not yet had to deal with either the girls or myself being ill (the last bout of D&V happened on daddy’s watch). So when I was calmly dealing with CJ and the unavoidable clearing up job, I did feel a bit of pride in how far I had come and that actually I was only concerned with getting her cleaned up and comforting her, much more the mummy reaction I would hope for. But it was inevitable I suppose that it would not stop with CJ, thankful it was after the girls had been collected by their Dad that the symptoms finally got the better of me and it was my mum who then stepped in. She bought me round some fizzy water and made sure I drank plenty and it was her soup that finally made me feel a bit better when my appetite returned a bit.

So, touch wood and fingers crossed, we are all ok, because this week is the big one, IK is starting School………

The start of something new

We have lots of exciting new things happening over the coming weeks, IK is starting school, CJ is starting nursery but before all that I am starting a new job tomorrow….eeeekkkk

After nearly 14 months of being a stay at home mum I am feeling both excitement and trepidation at the prospect of going back to work.

I have been really lucky to find a flexible job that will fit in around the times the girls are at school and nursery, meaning during term time I can drop the girls off and then be there to pick them up again. However as I am starting four weeks before the start of term I do need some extra help with childcare. The girls are spending some time with their Dad but I’m really grateful that my mum, sister and their other set of grandparents are also helping me out. So keeping my fingers crossed, everything should fit together nicely.

Since I was offered the job I have been focusing on the positives, becoming more financially independent, getting out the house for a few hours a week, meeting new people, and using my brain again for something more taxing than ‘what will we have for tea tonight’ Then it occurred to me, I’m going to have to use my brain for something more taxing than ‘what will we have for tea tonight’! After more than a year at home, what if everything I used to know, is no longer in my brain. What if I can’t still plan a work load, multi task and work as a team, as I said in the interview that I could. In fact this is the third time in last four and half years I have taken a year off work, meaning I have only worked a total of about 12 months since IK was born! But I’m hoping that it is like riding a bike and so I won’t have forgotten. (Although for the record I think I have forgotten how to ride a bike, so that is maybe not the best analogy!)

I know that the time I have spent at home with the girls over the last year has been really important. There has been a lot of change and insecurity and I think me being at home with them has helped all of us settle into our new home and lives. But now is definitely the right time for me to go back to work. This job is the first step in moving our lives forward; it is more independence for me and working towards my long term goal of buying us a house. But all that is for the future. My immediate concern is what should I wear tomorrow and should I take in my own mug! 

Busy Bees and Bad Behaviour

The girls and I have had a very busy 10 days. We have been to two birthday parties, a Christening, a play soft centre (as my gorgeous niece would say), the zoo, a rather crazy afternoon at a friend’s house and two sleep overs at opposite ends of the country. On top of this the girls have spent two days with their Dad doing what ever busy things they get up to with him. (It can still be a bit difficult to piece together exactly what they have done but I know they went for a Coffee and Cake and to look at bedroom furniture, the rest is still a mystery)

All of our adventures meant the girls spending a lot of time in the car, eating in many locations and sleeping in some new places. On the whole they did really well and I was, as usual, proud to say they were mine. However, IK and I did have a falling out at the zoo, for which she is only partly to blame. My friend and I had told the girls and her two boys before we went to the zoo, they could have an ice cream if they were well behaved. This, in hindsight, for IK was a mistake.

We had only been there about half an hour when the, “can I have an ice cream?” question arose. The answer was “no, you can have one after lunch.” The second the last grape was eaten at lunch time, “is it time for an ice cream” “No not quite yet, lets just wait a little while for your lunch to go down”. After what felt like the 100^th time of asking, I snapped and said if she asked one more time, there would be no ice cream at all. Inevitably 5 minuets later she asked again, so that was it, no ice cream. What had started as low level whinging and built steadily throughout the day into full on moaning, suddenly became an outright tantrum with shouting and feet stamping. At four and a half this is not behaviour I am happy to accept from her. 

And after about 15 minutes when she showed no sign on calming down I gave her a final warning, stop or we leave. Her response was to scream NNNOOOO at me. My response: we are leaving. So we did and at a rather fast pace we went back to the car, IK quite literally kicking and screaming all the way. CJ had fallen asleep in her pushchair by the time we got there so I opened all the car doors and told IK to sit in her car seat and I would talk to her once she had calmed down. 15 minutes of crying and shouting, followed by 5 minutes of quiet and she was back to her usual lovely self and ready to talk to me.

Reading this back now, I’m still not sure if I did the right thing. You see I can see I handled it badly from the start. Firstly I needed to have more patience with her, and a bit more understanding that after a busy week and a late night the previous night, she was tired. I should have also told her a specific time, such as an hour after lunch, or before we leave, for the ice cream. She still doesn’t fully grasp time and a woolly ‘later’ just doesn’t seem to work in her brain. She used to be the same when I said her Dad would be picking her up in a couple of days. As soon as I said she was going to see him, I think she thought he would appear at that very moment and then she would get very cross with me when he didn’t. In the end I got her a calendar and she sticks a sticker on the date he is coming and then we tick the days off until then. So I should know my daughter better, and for that I did and still do fell bad and its never easy to say ‘I got it wrong’ But here is the thing, I find constantly demanding, pestering, whinging, moaning, shouting and screaming unacceptable behaviour. She knows this already, she had a warning and didn’t heed it, so the consequence was we left.

I guess the thing about being a parent is you have to decide what behaviour is and isn’t acceptable to you, and then act accordingly. I suspect there are many people reading this who will think I am too strict; why didn’t I just get the poor child an ice cream (well I wanted her to eat her lunch, then she needed to let her lunch go down a bit, all of which I did explain to her) Those of you who know me will know I’m big on rules, routine and manners. They are important in our family and for the most part, it works well. As I am now on my own with the girls, I feel this is more important that ever as now the responsibility of raising them falls to entirely me. Whilst their Dad and I do communicate well, agree on most things and I know he carries on with the rules I have in place, they are my responsibility. I have to be set the boundaries, follow through with discipline, decided on what is and isn’t ok and what is and isn’t important. There is no one there to ask an opinion of, no one to talk though how best to deal with things, no one to back me up, no one to help out and no one to say if the rules are too strict or too lax. It is a massive responsibility to bear alone. Parenthood can be a daunting path for everyone and no one knows what is coming next, but when there is no one walking it with you can be overwhelming to say the least.

So IK, when you are reading this in 15 or 20 years time, I am sorry we left the zoo early that day. I fully accept my part in the incident; for not understanding you enough that day and for not having all the patience I needed to handle it better. I’m sure it is not the last time I didn’t get it all right. But I hope you now understand that we had these rules because I wanted you to grow up to be well mannered, well behaved and have good values. I wanted you to learn how to behave appropriately in many different social situations, I wanted you to learn to listen and I wanted you to respect other people. I hope I have got more right than wrong, and I know I will continue to be proud of both you and your sister.

Confused, so very confused

Ok so here is my confession of the day. I am seriously behind the majority of the word with regards to Social Media. Up until about three months ago my experience was limited to Facebook and I was quite happy to update my status with random snippets (interesting ones obviously) about my daily life, photos of the girls and generally keep up, and be nosey with what friends and a few random acquaintances were up to. Then I was introduced to the world of Twitter which is a different animal all together. I love that can follow anyone you want to which means I can keep up with what John Bishop (yum) is up to. Once I’d got my head round the # thing and that people I’d have never heard of were following, replying and re tweet things, I was away.

Now I consider myself relatively intelligent and I used to pick things up quite quickly, but two babies and a year as a SAHM means my poor brain is stodgier than the porridge I make. But this was one of the main motivating factors for starting my blog; to exercise my brain, to try and keep up with the world and to see if I can actually write.

But blogging is a BIG thing with a whole world of its own that I knew nothing about. It turns out it is not just emptying the contents of my head onto the World Wide Web. There are, amongst other things, content strategy, monetization, traffic generation, self hosting, guest blogging, pugins and communities to get to grips with. Whilst at the same time making sure what I’m blogging is interesting and has personality and integrity. I know a bit about Facebook and Twitter to promote my blog but what about Google +, Pinterest, Intragram, Linkedin and Youtube! There is so much to learn and I’m not sure where to start. I feel out the loop, out my depth and a bit like I’m the last one to the party! But my mum has a great saying for times like this “How do you eat an Elephant? One mouthful at a time!” This is certainly an elephant, so pass me the fork, I’d better get stuck in!

On to the next big thing

This week has been one of goodbyes as IK had her last day at nursery. This is a big thing for a little girl as she says goodbye to friends, teachers and her pre school days. In September, with many other people we will be entering a brave new word of the School run, uniform and stricter routine. We MUST be on time and will be tied to taking holidays and days out during School holidays, although with the governments plans to allow Schools to set their own term dates, who knows when that will be!

I wondered at the beginning of the week if I would feel sad collecting her from nursery for the last time, but I wasn’t. You see I’m not sad that she is growing up and moving on in fact I’m really pleased she is. She is much more interesting now than the baby that I bought home from hospital. She is growing up into a bright, spirited, inquisitive, fun and often cheeky girl. If she is thinking something she has to say it and if she feels something she wants us all to know about it! She loves food and has a very sophisticated palate with smoked salmon, olives and chorizo being among her favourite foods. As with all children she has her challenges, the biggest of which is her quick temper. Helping her to learn how to control and manage it has been our biggest source of anguish and distress over the last year and I have no doubt will continue to be over the coming years.  

So I didn’t cry when I picked her up for the last time that was until I read the card she had been given by her teacher. It was warmly and genuinely written and made me proud of how well my little lady is thought of. I do however think her first day of School will be an emotional business. Sending her off in her uniform for the first time, grown up and ready to take on the world (or Primary School at least) will certainly bring a tear to my eye. September will also see CJ starting nursery and I’m 99% certain there will be tears all round there. I must stock up on tissues in August!!

But before we get to the new beginnings there is the summer holiday to contend with. I, like millions of other mums (and dads!) will be wondering how to keep them occupied for 6 weeks, and in our case, on a budget as well. (So all tips / advice / suggestions gratefully received.)

Wednesday Words - I am Woman

Yesterday was one of those difficult days, when for no particular reason the girls seemed to have forgotten how to share or play nicely together. They spend most of the day falling out with each other, wanting the toy or book the other one had, shouting at each other, pulling each other’s hair and generally being unpleasant. It was hot yesterday, lovely if you want to sit and not do a lot, but when your trying to wrestle a toddler into clothes, or chase them round with sun cream or a hair brush its not as much fun.

By 10 o’clock I felt frazzled; the heat and horrible behaviour meant I was in a pretty awful mood myself and kept snapping at the girls, which did nothing to improve the situation. The day was in a downward cycle and I felt as though nothing could rescue the situation. But then a song came on the iPod, Helen Reddy’s I am Woman and IK shouted ‘Mummy it’s our song’

It is indeed our song and so I decided to share the lyrics today for my Wednesday Words. When we were first on our own it became our anthem, I’m a bit of a closet Country Music fan and the lyrics summed up so eloquently the way I was trying so desperately to feel.  We would put it on, turn the volume up and sing and dance together and it always made me feel better. We haven’t listened to it for ages but as we turned it up yesterday and danced round the dinning room together, I instantly felt happier and I realised I wasn’t trying to feel strong anymore because I do feel strong ….well most of the time!

You can bend but never break me
'cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

Oh yes I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong (strong)
I am invincible (invincible)
I am woman

Words and Music by Helen Reddy and Ray Burton

Potty training: a learning experience for both of us.

That time has crept up on me again. Some how CJ is now two and the signs are were there that she is ready give knickers a go. Over the last few weeks I’ve come up with a few reasons to delay it, holidays, day trips, parties but mostly it was just that I wasn’t ready. You see I’m not very good with mess in general and potty training is the ultimate in mess management. But I didn’t want to miss the window of opportunity, so I decided that when they came home from their last visit with their Dad we would get straight on with it. So on Friday we were in through the door, the nappy was off and the knickers were on.

There is a plethora of advice / theories / strategies on potty training. Pull up nappies, books, reward charts, stickers, fancy singing potties and who knows what else. All designed to make the process easier, or if you’re a bit cynical, to make you part with a bit more money. And with IK, we went for it in a big way! In fact I got myself into a right kerfuffle with the whole business ‘Was she ready?’ ‘What if she poo’d whilst we were in Morrisons?’ ‘How would I possibly manage the torrent of wee and poo that was about to surge from this small child’

So I turned to a good friend with two slightly older children for advice. She told me the best thing she had done with her second was to wait till he was really ready and could recognise the feeling of need to go, without her having to constantly remind him. It had made the whole process quicker, less messy and less stressful all round. Her words were wise and meant I decided to leave in IK in nappies for a while longer. So when 4 months later she asked me if she could wear knickers instead of nappies because the other girls at nursery did, she went dry straight away and has only ever had a handful of accidents.

However I promptly forgot all this on Friday and by the time bedtime arrived I was a frazzeled mess and so grateful to put a nappy on CJ. We had wee and poo in the knickers, on the chair, the sofa and the carpet.  Aaarrrrhhhh!!! I had found myself saying ‘Do you need a wee?’ or ‘Remind mummy when you need a wee’ about every 5 minuets which just upset CJ and she still wee’d everywhere but the potty!

So on Saturday morning I wondered if she just wasn’t ready and thought about keeping her in nappies. But I decided to persevere; I pointed out where the potty was, with more hope than expectation and then went for a shower. Much to my surprise, 5 minuets later, CJ walked in, sat on the potty and had a poo. No fuss, no bother and no reminding. A big kiss and cuddle for her and a light bulb moment for me. I had forgotten the wise words and I had been going about it all wrong. I didn’t want to ‘train’ her to use the potty when I told her to, I wanted her to learn to go when she needed to. I realised I quite literally had to let her do it in her own time.

So I gave my controlling side a stern word to give the poor little thing some space and a reminder of what my role was in the process; To show CJ were the potty was, gently reminder her if it been a while since went (and I mean an hour Emma, not 5 minuets), clean up any mess and most importantly congratulate her when she does well.

And she has done well, she had only one accident yesterday and today #veryproudmummy. Yes there will still be accidents and the inevitable ‘I need a wee’ usually at the most inconvenient moment, like when you’ve just put your shopping on the checkout or your stuck in town in traffic. But I know I will just deal with any mess, and maybe have to find a new supermarket to shop in!  

So I feel I can say that potty training has been a success, not just because CJ is now clean and dry in the day but also because she reminded me that as a mum sometimes it is important for me to relax and run with it and that positivity is always better than stress. Well done CJ, you clever thing.

And the Kitten make four

One of the things I miss most about my life PD (pre divorce) is Freddie, or Brown Bear as we affectionately called him. Freddie is a rather large, over excitable chocolate Labrador. The ex and I got him shortly before we were married and he was part of our family in a big way. He was a nightmare puppy, eating the fence, the shed, the door frames, the expanding foam out of the door frame, (which required a trip to the emergency vet on Christmas Eve!!) contact lenses, a pavlova, the contents of the bin on most days and more dog toys that I could count. But he was loyal, loving and a great excuse for a long walk. So when the girls and I moved it was with a heavy heart that I realised he wouldn’t be ale to come with us. My housing options were limited to a choice of one; it is small and only has a little court yard garden. I knew keeping him would be very impractical, but couldn't bare the part with him, so I was really pleased when my in laws, who have always had a soft spot for him anyway, offered to take him on. They have a lovely big garden, lots of doggy friendly walking on their doorstep and most importantly the time he needs.

So for the last year we have been a pet free household and it did feel as though there was something missing, apart from my ex husband! I’d been thinking about getting a kitten for a while, but I am a self confessed ditherer and now I’m on my own my ability to make decisions seems to be getting worse. So I asked my four year old, IK, for her opinion on the matter. Her eyes lit up, her smile widened and he said ‘Yeah mummy, lets do it’ Decision made! As this was about a month before went away I decided to be sensible and wait till we got back, however this did mean I had a whole 4 weeks of IK chatting about the kitten and asking when we would be getting it.

I called the lady at the local cat rescue place and her response of ‘Now you do know its going to be like having a new born baby in the house?’ still makes me chuckle. I assured her that after a puppy and two babies I was quite prepared for the work involved, but my only stipulation was we had to have a female. This is a house of girls and we are not ready for any male intrusion just yet! So just over a week ago Koko (IK 's choice of name) came home and so far she has fitted very nicely into our life.

Now the only similarities I can find between her and a new born baby is they are both small and both very cute. I feed Koko three little meals a day, she has a few toys she plays with and she sits on my knee for some fuss when it suits her. She likes to hide and so far I have found her in the bathroom cupboard, in the shopping basket of the pushchair, behind the sofa and in the dolls pram. She is fluffy and has the loudest purr I think I have ever heard but she is fairly low maintenance.

My memories of both of mine being newborns are a bit hazy but they were certainly not low maintenance. There was lots of crying, from me and them, explosive nappies, so much washing and not much sleeping going on at all. There was also a general feeling of confusion about what day and time it was, should I be dressed and when exactly did I last have a shower. I often found myself wondering if either the baby or myself should be eating something, that was if could remember when either of us last did. And then there was the big one, how were we going to leave the house, ever. Taking a newborn out for the first time is a gargantuan effort and a logistical nightmare that for many new mother, awash with hormones and overly emotional, can feel the equivalent of climbing Everest!

So I can say that without doubt, having a kitten is not the same as having a newborn. Koko is a long term commitment and does need love and attention, but nothing like on the same scale as a baby….thank goodness 

Wednesday Words

I’m a bit new to the world of blogging and Twitter and I occasionally feel as though I’m missing out on the party! But today I kept seeing #WednesdayWords and though I should investigate. It was started by a mummy blogger @crazywithtwins to share quotes, poems, lyrics etc (although I apologise to Emma now if this is quite right)

I like to join in so I thought I’d give it a go.  I love quotes; they can say so succinctly what I’m thinking, make me what to get off my bum and do something or move me to tears. A good friend and I often share inspirational quotes (together with pictures of glasses of wine and chocolate) to give us a lift during those difficult days. So my first WednesdayWords is for her. She has a difficult day to face tomorrow and I wish I was closer to help and support her.

I love this quote, it reminds us that everything that’s happens, good and bad, is what makes us, us. We have both tested the old adage ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ especially over the last year. But through all the tough times she has stayed positive, with a strong resolve to build a great life and it has made her the understanding, thoughtful, kind, generous and lovely person that I’m lucky enough to call my friend

“Everything that happens to us leaves some trace behind; everything contributes imperceptibly to make us what we are” 

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

What I wish I'd known....

Today marks my first anniversary as a single mum. The day the ex left he took with him his things and the corner stone of my life; everything came crashing down. I knew as he closed the door behind him I was starting on a journey I never thought I would take. I wish I had known then what I know now. I would love to go back to that moment; I would sit myself down with a tissue and a cup of tea and tell myself a few things.

The first steps are the hardest – Packing the first box to leave your old family home, going to a new playgroup for the first time, going on a first date or the first run. But the more first steps you take the easier they become. Don’t let you world become small. Just take a deep breath, smile and step into the unknown you never know when it will take you somewhere great, like to a new friend.

You can do more than you think – Finding a house, making it a home, choosing a School for IK,  dealing with a slugs, managed sleeping problems, tantrums and anger, setting up the computer, running 5K, building bunk beds, starting a blog and dealing with everyday dramas. Give it all a go and surprise yourself

Not everyone will be there for you as you thought – But that’s ok, everyone has there own lives and you won’t be there for everyone either. Be grateful for those people who are. You have an amazing family and some great friends who will help you in hundreds of different ways (and much more than they will ever know.)

Not every question will have an answer – Think carefully before you ask, the answer might not be one you want to hear or there simply may be no answer at all. Not everything will make sense. For your own health and happiness, let some things go.

Not everything is you fault, or his – It takes two to tango as they say. The choice to leave was his but you both could have done more. The important thing is to find a way to get along so you can both continue to be the kind of parents you want for the girls. There will be times to stand your ground and times to compromise. Remember not everything makes sense and some things just aren’t meant to be. That doesn’t mean you are a bad person and you haven’t failed, which leads to my next point.

When the time is right, you will be able to let go – The hardest thing to come to terms with will be the feeling that your life will never be right again. The deep held believe that if you are no longer married to the girl’s dad things are just wrong. As you have been through your first year as a family of three and have enjoyed Christmas, birthday’s and a holiday this feeling will fade and you will realised that your little family it still great, its not what you thought it was going to be but it is amazing. Forgiveness will take time, but it is the key to moving on.

This time next year – You will be stronger, wiser and happier. You will be looking back at the hardest year of your life and realising you have survived it. You will have re built the foundations of your life and provided a stable, loving, happy home for the girls. You will be looking to the challenges of the future with excitement not fear, you will value what you already have with love and gratitude and you will have a true belief that you have the strength to deal with what ever comes next

You will be ok – You are stronger than you know and the bond of your family comes from the love you have for your girls, that can never be broken and neither can you

Sandcastles, Seals and 2p Shovers….. a very British Holiday

So we are home after our first holiday as a family of three and we had a great time. It helps that Norfolk is a very beautiful county, our accommodation was excellent and that the weather was kind with the sun even making an appearance.

Going away with my family is always fun. We aren’t geographically close meaning there are very few occasions when we are all together so having this time away is a rare treat. It was really lovely to see the girls playing with my niece; they are all close in age and play really well together. And even with the chaos that ensues when there are three small girls, I think we all managed to find some time to relax.

We took the obligatory trip to a Seaside town and played on the 2p Shovers, ate fish & Chips and got blown about walking along the sea front.  The highlight of the week was a boat trip to see the seals. IK and I don’t have sea legs but the trip round the bay was calm and seeing the Seals so close was wonderful. It was CJ’s second birthday whilst we were away and the sun came to the beach with us to celebrate. All three girls had a great and very very sandy, time digging, building and rolling around the beach. My dad and brother constructed a fairy princess sandcastle, complete with a working moat and flags which I’m sure they enjoyed doing more than the girls (actually I’m not sure if the girls were allowed to help!) We had a picnic and ice-cream (some of which was eaten, most was dripped down tops and smeared around faces – is there any other way to eat an ice-cream when your little?) It was a lovely day for my littlest lady which we finished off with a chocolate birthday caterpillar.

My family is into food in a big way and we ate…a lot. I dread to think how much weight I have put on in a week, the seafood was amazing, the fish & chips were great and we found some lovely cafes and deli’s to eat in. First job for tomorrow is a run, closely followed by fruit for breakfast and salad for lunch, then off to the gym…. For the next month

Whilst we did have a great holiday, it was hard at times. My family were all very helpful (my dad and brother even looked after the all the girls so my mum, sister-in-law and I could go for a spa treatment) but I am the only single one in the family and it was hard not to feel alone sometime. But we made some amazing memories, and although I’m sure a week, minus the children, in an exotic sunny location would have been less stressful, far more relaxing and involved much more wine, I would take my week with my girls in a slightly colder, sometimes damper Norfolk any day. Seeing their faces watching the seals, or covered in sand and ice cream, or feeding the fish at the sea life centre was priceless. They are the moments that make the heartache, stress, tantrums and tears all worth it. They are the moments I would not miss for anything.

So I am very grateful that I have a family who wants to holiday together, and that we can get on for a week! Our family trips to Norfolk seem to becoming a bi-annual event and the girls and I are very much looking forward to the next one

We are off....nearly

So the girls and I are all set for our first holiday as a family of three, however with another six adults and one child also going we will be far from alone. I also suspect it will be far from peaceful, so today I have enjoyed a very relaxing day.

The girls were collected early by their dad (wearing mis-matched outfits as I had packed all their nice clothes!) and my mum and I went to get our hair and nails done followed by lunch. Very nice! This afternoon I have finished the packing and done the last few jobs (I’m still surprised at how much I can get done when I alone) All very chilled out really

Yesterday was a bit different however! I had piles of clothes in every room in the house that either needed washing, ironing, packing, or putting away, presents to wrap for CJ and a massive list of other “essential” things to gather together to some how be squeezed into my car. Packing for a British holiday always involves taking a bit of everything you own; shorts, sundresses, sun tan lotion and hats have to be packed with jumpers, wellies and waterproofs, travelling light is just not an option. I also had to print out directions, go into town to buy some nappies and mop the floor after CJ fell out with a bowl of weetabix. It’s at moments like this that you can really start to wonder why your even going away!

I’m sure the next week will be lots of fun, the girls are very excited about going away, playing on the beach and spending time with their cousin and I don’t doubt we will all have a great time. But for me it will be hard work. Being a single mum means there is no longer someone to share the load with and the responsibility for everything has to fall to me. We are going with family so we won’t be alone but I’m very conscious not to ask too much, it is after all their holiday as well. So today was my time and the next week will be all about making memories for my little ladies, which is what holidays are all about after all.

Just one of those days

Today has just been one of those days when I wish I had stayed in bed. It started off ok with the girls managing to stay in bed till the sun came up on their gro clock (best invention in the world) but they were tetchy and grumpy with each other, refusing to share the book we were reading in bed resulting in it getting ripped. CJ was hard work to get dressed as she kept running off with her sisters clothes and IK refused to have her hair brushed. So when breakfast ended with a cup of milk on the floor and Coco Pops in the hair I feared for the rest of our day

We had to take a trip into town, CJ needed shoes, I had birthday presents to get, IK wanted to get her dad something for Father’s Day and we had a big list of other random other stuff. Getting out the house was hard work, IK insisted she didn’t need a wee, then CJ needed a poo and wanted to go on the toilet (she is still in nappies but loves to sit on the toilet - potty training when we get back from holiday I think). They wanted drinks, snacks, a teddy, bread to feed the ducks, different shoes and a cardigan. It was colder than I thought so once out the door we were straight back in to change from skirts to leggings. Then IK wanted a wee

Once we were finally on our way IK moaned and lagged behind, complaining of being bored. CJ was tired but refused to go to sleep in her pushchair, instead she kept taking her shoes off and then crying to have them back on. The both kept asking for sweets, a drink, a new doll, a magazine and everything else at their eye level. We nearly walked out the shop with three birthday cards CJ had helped herself to and a very kind woman had to come running after me with the teddy she had thrown overboard. The situation reached breaking point when IK nearly got run over by an old man on a motorised scooter and it took all my self restraint not to swear at him in front of the girls for going so fast on the pavement, in town, when its busy! Even a kitkat and a carton of juice didn’t cheer either of them up, although I was pretty happy to find out they now have 5 fingers, meaning I go an extra one. CJ eventually fell asleep and I broke my own rule about only having one snack before lunch and bought IK some teddy bear crisps for the walk home (which she told me later was the best part of her day)

So, three hours later we eventually fell in the door, laden down with shopping and with IK greatly in need of a wee and I decided we needed to re group. But the bread we were going to have for lunch was mouldy, IK woke CJ up by shouting causing much grumpiness from both and I managed to trap my finger folding up the pushchair. At this point in the day there was only one thing for it; Cinderella. She worked her magic and peace descended over my house. But it was short lived and we had more anguish and tears over dolls, books, bumped noses, bumped knees, the wrong yoghurt and even the wrong coloured towel. So I was a very thankful mummy when bedtime finally arrived.

On days like today I’m just grateful that we all made it through in one piece and that tomorrow is a new day, so we get to do it all again!!

Now pass me the wine, and make it a large one

The countdown is on......

In exactly one week we will be on holiday!  Now normally by this point pre holiday I would in the mist of preparations, most of which would be list making. Lists of things to buy, lists of things to pack, lists of jobs to do before we went, lists of lists!! This year however I have a much more ‘laissez faire’ attitude to the whole thing, so much so that I don’t have a single list.

I’m not complete why I have had this change of attitude. It will be my first holiday without the ex, but we are going ‘on mass’ with the rest of my family, so we will be far from alone. We also aren’t going far which helps. Or it could be that last time we went away CJ was 6 days old so I think if I can do that I can do anything

The holiday has crept up on me a bit and I still have a busy week ahead. Birthday celebrations for my god son, welcoming my brother, sister-in-law and niece home form Papua New Guinea plus having them stay for two nights, a parents meeting at IK’s new school, the hairdressers, a manicure and all the normal nursery, play groups, swimming lesson things all need to be fitted in before I even think about the holiday.

However as the girls and I are often on our travels, I’m quite used to packing us up for trips of various lengths, so I’m not really phased by the prospect of what needs doing. The master plan is just to shove a load of clothes, that could cover every weather eventuality (well we are holidaying in the UK) in a suitcase and hope for the best. Apart from that we will be travelling light this time, well except the bare essentials needed when travelling with two little ladies – pushchair, booster seat, CDs for the car, dolls, teddy bears, books, puzzles, wellies, sandals, raincoats, body warmers, sun tan lotion, first aid kit, calpol, nappies, picnic blanket, cool bag, drink cups……..hmmm maybe there is more stuff than I thought!

I also need to sort out the photos on the camera because I think the memory card is full, it is CJs birthday whilst we are away so I need to wrap her presents, as we are going self catering there is food that needs to be bought and I like to leave the house clean and tidy so that needs to be fitted in. And, despite the fact that I booked it, I’m not 100% sure where it is we are going, so as I will be driving there I really need to get some directions!

OK so there is quite a lot to be done, maybe I should start a list…..

Dating.....it seemed like such a good idea

‘Time heals all’ You would not believe how many time I have been told that, but it is actually true. I have begun to feel as thought my broken heart was on the mend, and after going to the cinema, out to lunch and even the pub alone I thought maybe it was time for someone new in my life. But being a single mum living in a new area my options for getting out and about to meet a potential new chap were some what limited. A very good friend suggested I try on line dating and my first thoughts  were ‘Its so sad’ and ‘I’ll probably be kidnapped my some crazy person’ But apparently 1 in 3 relationships now start on line and my social life of baby groups and mum’s meet ups weren’t likely to have much potential dating wise, so I signed myself up. I filled in the ‘application form’ and the worse bit, wrote a profile! The idea is to sell yourself, so where to start? Singe mum, not currently working, a bit lonely and self esteem knocked after divorce, body in working order but a bit shabby after two babies? Probably not the way to go! So I focused on the more positive, only lied a little bit and wrote a slightly cringe worthy few lines about myself, found a few recent pictures and off I went.

Much to my surprise I actually started to get some messages. There was the 18 year old, the Meatloaf lookalike, the guy who said he was 40, but looked more like 50. There was the one who looked like his picture was taken 10 years ago, the guy who said he only did drugs at the weekend, the ‘chef’ who worked in a kebab shop and the bin man who’s profile said he was an eternal pessimist (quick where do I sign up). There were a fair few who just wanted to find someone to ‘share there life wiv’ (now my spelling isn’t great but come on!) Someone who was looking for ‘discreet’ fun (aka he had a wife or girlfriend or both!) and then, my personal favourite, the one who offered to dress me in rubber and restrain me! (And yes that was an opening message!!). And you simply would not believe the amount of men who like to go to the gym and are looking for someone to treat like a princess!! Yes I received messages alright but pickings seemed slim!

But against the odds I did meet someone, he was what I was looking for, cute, funny, caring and he had an interesting job. He reminded me how lovely it is when you meet someone who you have a genuine connection with, and how much fun a new relationship can be. However, dating is complicated and I’m out of practice! With careers, children and enough emotional baggage between us to keep Heathrow busy, it was not meant to be. It also made me realise how easy it is to get hurt again, once you let you guard down and start to let someone in, you have to trust them. Not easy when you’ve been so hurt in the past.

So there is no ‘Cinderella’ style happy ending to this particular story. But actually that’s ok because I realised I don’t need rescuing. After 9 years in a relationship I’m enjoying time on my own and I’m finally ok with being single. Yes, sometimes it can be lonely, but there are lots of great things about it just being me. I can do things I want to do, make decisions based on what is best for me and the girls and what we want and I never have to watch sport!

So, would I try online dating again, maybe, Am I in a rush to find a new relationship? No. But hey, should a handsome, funny, caring man come into my life and want to take me out for a drink, I’d be ok with that ;)

I did it!!

Today was an important day for me. Today I ran the Cancer Research UK Race for Life. Now yes I know it’s no London Marathon and yes for a lot of people it would be the proverbial walk in the park, but this has been a big thing for me, because up until 6 weeks ago I couldn’t run 5 minutes let alone 5K.

To say I hated exercise would have been an understatement and I have said for a long time that I would like to and need to, get fitter, but I’ve never done anything about it. I know myself well, without a goal I’ve got to achieve I would not (and did not) work very hard. Cancer Research is a great cause and our family, like so many others, has been touched by cancer over the years so I thought no more excuses and I signed up, roping my sister in with me for some moral support.

My Dad has helped me to train and we have been out for a run together three or four times a week for the last six weeks. The first one was dreadful, I think it took me about 40 minutes to run about 3k and most of that was walking. But I stuck with it, and without my Dad with me I know I wouldn’t have done so well. He encouraged me in the way him and mum always have, by allowed me to find my own pace, challenging me to go that bit further than I thought I could and making me feel better when things were tough.

So my lovely sister and I set off round Burghley at 11 am today with 2,998 other woman all wearing pink! My pace was steady to say the least, but she stayed with me, told me I was doing great when I struggled and sprinted with me to the end. It took me 35 minuets to do the 5K course, certainly not as quick as I would have liked, but as I crossed the finish line, being cheered on by my two little ladies, my mum and the hundreds of other people all there to support their family and friends, I felt only happiness that I’d finished (and a bit like a might throw up and or pass out!!)

It has been a great experience for me, we raised a lot of money, I feel less tired and better in myself and the tracksuit bottoms I bought when I started are now too big! But by far and away the best thing has been setting myself a goal and achieving it; now that is an amazing feeling.

Travelling Alone

A rare thing occurred this week, a friend and I both had time when our children would be with their Dad’s, so we decided to make the most of it and go for a short UK city break. So a hotel was booked and train tickets were bought. But unfortunately my friend was not well so had to cancel at the last minute. So I was left with a choice, do I go alone or should I stay at home? As I’d already paid for everything I thought ‘sod it’ and went alone. It occurred to me on my way to the station that I’ve never travelled and stayed in a hotel by myself before. Here’s what I learned:

1. Reading material is vital. Train journeys, a hot chocolate in Starbucks and dinner are all a lot easier if you have something fun, and non embarrassing to read (not the time for 50 Shades of Grey!). It also stops you making accidental, repeated and extended eye contact with the odd man at the next table or the couple having a loud ‘discussion’.
2. Always check you have your purse with you before you go to the restaurant! Not realising it wasn’t in my bag till after I’d eaten, and with no one else to pay, lead to a fairly embarrassing conversation with the waitress, a quick run back to the hotel room, much relief at finding it on the bed and a big tip
3. Pack baby wipes! After four and a half years of having a nappy bag almost surgically attached to me, travelling without it I realised how often I use them, and apparently the kids aren’t the only ones who spill food
4. Having fun whilst travelling alone is without doubt a state of mind. There were certainly a couple of times when I thought it would have been more fun with two. But I spent 24 hours completely pleasing myself, I didn’t feel bad for wanting to spend an hour having one hot chocolate, wanting to go to bed at 9 and watch Forrest Gump or spending 10 minutes in admiration of a massive painting, although admittedly I was primarily wondering how the artist painted the top (art appreciation clearly isn’t my thing)

Ok I do know that it was one night away and not a solo round the world trip, but as with lots of things the first step is often the hardest, so making it a small one helped. I really enjoyed my solitary trip and most surprisingly I didn’t feel lonely or daunted, so I’ll definitely do it again, only next time I think I’ll venture further afield.

Mummy Friends

I have just got back from dropping the girls off to spend the half term holiday with their Dad. The great thing about doing that is I am able to combine this with seeing my mummy friends.

The arrival of IK into our lives also bought an influx of new friends. I actually made my first mummy friend whilst I was in hospital having IK. We were in opposite beds whilst being induced and then sat together, waiting for labour to start, in the middle of the night after our husbands had been sent home. Hers did and she had her baby in the early hours but I had to wait another 24 hours for IK to make her grand entrance into the world. On the post natal ward we were in opposite beds again and I took it as a sign and gave her my number. And so began our friendship. Through local baby groups I went on to meet lots of other mummies, some of whom I am now lucky enough to call friends.

Having mummy friends is great. Being a new mum can be a very lonely and there are times when you think you might just go crazy. So having people around you with children of the same age is a complete lifesaver. We have shared the tears, fears and general confusion that comes with early motherhood, the anxiety of going back to work and then the arrival of babies number two and in some cases three! We shared milestones big and small from first steps to the first poo on the potty. They have always been a great source of advice, ready to listen and happy to meet in the park to tire the children out!

After I’d had CJ the ex’s job meant he wasn’t really home for 2 months. I was left alone looking after a toddler and a 6 week old baby with reflux who screamed day and night! Exhausted just didn’t go far enough to explain how I felt. I was two hours away from my family and felt very low. But one lovely friend helped me out with IK so I could get a little bit of rest. I later found out she was in the early stage of pregnancy herself and suffering with dreadful morning sickness. It was such a lovely gesture that meant so much to me, and I will always be grateful for her support during that difficult time.

When I was packing to leave Essex I knew there would be a big hole in my life without my mummy friends, but I also knew that we needed to closer to family. So it was with a heavy heart that I said goodbye to the lovely ladies who had become so important to me. We have however been very lucky since we moved that we have started to make some new friends.

So my trip to Essex was great, after a rather wet day at the zoo with the kids me and a friend went for a very rare night out. What started off as a quiet dinner ended with us stumbling into a taxi at 2 am having been chatted up, had drinks bough for us and danced till our feet hurt. Slightly worse for wear, I then met three other lovely friends for a child free lunch. Three and a half hours later we were still sat in the restaurant all making the most of being able to have a conversation that wasn’t punctuated with ‘No don’t do that’ ‘play nicely’ ‘yes I’ll take you for a wee’ and ‘No you can’t have another snack’

I read a quote recently that said ‘Friends are like stars, you don’t have to see them to know they are there’ and I’m very lucky, my mummy friends are, without doubt, stars x 

The man jobs!

There are a few things that aren’t great about being single. It can be lonely, I have no one to go to the cinema with and I miss having someone to cuddle. But by far and away the worst is I now have to do all the man jobs. Now please don’t misunderstand me, I’m all for woman’s rights, equal opportunities and feminism, after 5 years at an all girls school its practically ingrained in my soul! But there are certain jobs I just think are man jobs – They are pretty much anything to do with the car, anything that involves tools or any job where there is a possibility of getting dirty

Now to be fair to the ex he was pretty handy, and once motivated, he could do most man jobs which meant I spend 9 years not having to. Now it is just me I have to face the hard truth either I do the jobs or they don’t get done. First problem, tools. I can operate a screwdriver and a hammer but everything else is beyond my skill set, so I decided for safety’s sake just to stick with these. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find any pink ones, so I had to settle for red! Armed with my tools I set off into the slightly daunting and fairly dull world of man jobs.

I have found some jobs are ok; water in the screen wash, putting the bins out, changing the light bulbs or putting up pictures. Others are more onerous; dealing with the slug problem when I moved in my house (I HATE slugs), putting together CJ’s trike or sanding down and painting the table and chairs. My dad is great and is always on hand to help me (must needed when it comes to flat pack furniture), but I don’t like to ask for every little thing, so I have had to get better and quickly.

So when the shower starts overflowing again I get out my trusty plunger, when a cupboard door falls off I can screw the hinge back on and when I remember I check the oil in my car. Yes, I can do most man jobs….. but I really wish I didn’t have to!