Well here I am again. Went off blogging for a while. Truth to tell I was wary but I'm here again for the same reason I started in the first place. I have nowhere else to vent....
I'm on my own tonight. My other half came home for an hour to see the boy and then went back to work. He's planning an all nighter. Software is very very important apparently. At least it takes precedence over me at the moment, as it has for the past 4 months or so.
Part of me thinks I should be so grateful for what we have: nice house, car, enough money, friends; and believe me I am grateful. However, the never seeing my partner, then when I do see him seeing his face so etched with weariness he can hardly talk. The look of annoyed forbearance when I try to make conversation because he is too tired to respond. It isn't what I signed up to......
Am I being a selfish brat? Dunno... Fact is I've reduced myself to writing about it on the internet! Will he know? Nope, not interested enough to read my blog....
Better stop now.
Thursday, 28 June 2012
Saturday, 31 March 2012
Saturday Again
I guess I'd better update. It's been harder to find the time to blog lately -- mainly due to hub working a lot, which means any slack I have at home disappears and when I get to have any time to myself what I really want to do is collapse in front of the telly.
I just looked back at last Saturday's post. Talk about melodrama!
Still I do recall feeling really low, with really not too much reason. Question is can you just decide to be really grateful for what you have and feel happy? I guess you can decide not to gripe about it!
Last weekend turned out to be fun after all. We repeated the long cycle ride into town with our little one and had a lovely mooch.
This week has been busy for all, characterised for me by two really great yoga sessions and then a few days of gnawing, nagging, sometimes cutting period pains. Ouch! My age I guess. I'm at the stage where I've started to skip the odd period at the usual time, only to find it arrive with a vengeance a month late. Still I guess I should be looking forward to the next stage in the cycle of life....maybe, perhaps...
Rambling now, nothing to say, so I'll sign off to another day.
Note to self: I had a thought about writing some stories that need telling here, in the absence of anything real I need or want to share about my present day. Might start to get a few down in the next few weeks.
I just looked back at last Saturday's post. Talk about melodrama!
Still I do recall feeling really low, with really not too much reason. Question is can you just decide to be really grateful for what you have and feel happy? I guess you can decide not to gripe about it!
Last weekend turned out to be fun after all. We repeated the long cycle ride into town with our little one and had a lovely mooch.
This week has been busy for all, characterised for me by two really great yoga sessions and then a few days of gnawing, nagging, sometimes cutting period pains. Ouch! My age I guess. I'm at the stage where I've started to skip the odd period at the usual time, only to find it arrive with a vengeance a month late. Still I guess I should be looking forward to the next stage in the cycle of life....maybe, perhaps...
Rambling now, nothing to say, so I'll sign off to another day.
Note to self: I had a thought about writing some stories that need telling here, in the absence of anything real I need or want to share about my present day. Might start to get a few down in the next few weeks.
Saturday, 24 March 2012
Black Sat
Today I've woken up in the foulest of foul moods. Don't ask me why. I'm not sure. There are various reasons I could offer myself. Hormones are quite likely given my age and the fact that I'm on day 55 of my current cycle. Also the fact that my bloke phoned last night to say he had to work late and I was really peed off with this on a Friday night, having bought nice dinner etc. Got up today at 5.45 to the housework and the same old same old. Can't even be bothered to go to yoga . Just want to cry really.
I hesitate to type this as I feel dark moods are so much more personal than the usual lalala isn't everything just great Pollyannaish crap that I generally come out with. Also because I am aware how selfish I am being. I don't want for anything material. I am lucky, lucky, lucky compared with so many.
But happiness does not itself spring from lack of want. I know I'm yearing for true meaning and real communication. Some of my friends find this in their crackpot religions (read all of them here). I wish I could, but unfortunately I can't take that massive leap of faith without feeling that I'm conning myself.
Heyho - I will post this anyway. A bit of light and shade is essential in a life and so too a blog.
My plan for now - hub and boy are going to football. I am going to have a run, maybe do a bit of gardening, and make a plan to give myself a boost out of the oridinary for the forthcoming week.
Will keep myself posted :)
and give myself a kick up the arse.
I hesitate to type this as I feel dark moods are so much more personal than the usual lalala isn't everything just great Pollyannaish crap that I generally come out with. Also because I am aware how selfish I am being. I don't want for anything material. I am lucky, lucky, lucky compared with so many.
But happiness does not itself spring from lack of want. I know I'm yearing for true meaning and real communication. Some of my friends find this in their crackpot religions (read all of them here). I wish I could, but unfortunately I can't take that massive leap of faith without feeling that I'm conning myself.
Heyho - I will post this anyway. A bit of light and shade is essential in a life and so too a blog.
My plan for now - hub and boy are going to football. I am going to have a run, maybe do a bit of gardening, and make a plan to give myself a boost out of the oridinary for the forthcoming week.
Will keep myself posted :)
and give myself a kick up the arse.
Friday, 23 March 2012
Women of the World Unite
I went to my son's friend's house yesterday so the boys could have a playdate. His friend's mum taught me how to make little chinese dumplings and we chatted whilst cooking and taking turns to entertain her baby daughter. Had such a nice time.
We talked together about the different approach to raising children in the UK and China and shared our common desire to give our kids a different kind of upbringing to the one we'd experienced. I learned quite a bit in the few hours we spent together. I was in awe of her ability to communicate complex ideas without a perfect grasp of English and yet such a desire to be understood. Puts my efforts to flail around in pigeon French on holiday to total shame.
I sensed a frustration that is familiar amongst my western compadres in having to reduce or give up totally your commitment to paid, meaningful work when you become a mother. Some of my friends do manage to successfully combine high flying careers with motherhood, just about. But what I sensed from my new friend was an awareness of this frustration vying with a sense that she should be grateful for what she does have. The two feelings in conflict, not quite resolving.
It's something that I forget myself. To be grateful for what I have. What I have is in fact immense in contrast to the lack that so many suffer and I was reminded yesterday, how fortunate we are to have been born where we were, by mere fluke. Also how similar we all are, women of the world, as mothers, sisters, wives, people, contributors to society, friends.......
Came home and watched John Bishop on the tv nearly kill himself to raise 1.6m quid to help people on the other side of the globe.
Yesterday was somehow quite intense!
We talked together about the different approach to raising children in the UK and China and shared our common desire to give our kids a different kind of upbringing to the one we'd experienced. I learned quite a bit in the few hours we spent together. I was in awe of her ability to communicate complex ideas without a perfect grasp of English and yet such a desire to be understood. Puts my efforts to flail around in pigeon French on holiday to total shame.
I sensed a frustration that is familiar amongst my western compadres in having to reduce or give up totally your commitment to paid, meaningful work when you become a mother. Some of my friends do manage to successfully combine high flying careers with motherhood, just about. But what I sensed from my new friend was an awareness of this frustration vying with a sense that she should be grateful for what she does have. The two feelings in conflict, not quite resolving.
It's something that I forget myself. To be grateful for what I have. What I have is in fact immense in contrast to the lack that so many suffer and I was reminded yesterday, how fortunate we are to have been born where we were, by mere fluke. Also how similar we all are, women of the world, as mothers, sisters, wives, people, contributors to society, friends.......
Came home and watched John Bishop on the tv nearly kill himself to raise 1.6m quid to help people on the other side of the globe.
Yesterday was somehow quite intense!
Thursday, 8 March 2012
Blessings, Gratitude and Love
This week I heard that a friend had passed away at the weekend. Almost exactly 2 years since she failed to turn up to work, having blanked out while driving in. She was taken to hospital where it was discovered she had an advanced cancer of the lungs and a secondary brain tumour. The night before she had left for home as usual, joking about her plans for the evening, seemingly without a care.
She was 50.
It's fair to say it has hit me.
She was a work colleague who I encountered when starting back to my first new job after becoming a mum. Being a nervous returner, I was in a role that punched well below my weight. Yet she saw potential in me and was friendly and encouraging. It would be true to say that I hold the enjoyable job I have now in large part thanks to her. She was generous in her willingness to share knowledge, intelligent, humorous, warm and approachable. She liked the film "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"; had a passionate interest in astral photography and loved gardening.
Because I inherited her working notebooks, I have found myself happening upon little gems of wisdom in her large, loopy handwriting. I pulled a database report today and found her name at the top of the list, 2 years after she went off sick. She is still present in the mundaneness of the everyday despite her passing.
Perhaps not surprisingly, this has imbued me with a renewed imperative to seize the day, enjoy life, try everything I want to try, now, not later. To love my loved ones with the passionate urgency that I feel, to show them and tell them, to be a bit less English about it all.....
It has also however, made me wonder how people will remember me when I die. I didn't know this lady especially well, but I still remember her with great affection and a certainty that the world was a better place because she was in it. I hope I can bear that legacy for others when I finally pop my clogs.
It's funny how a piece of music sometimes entwines itself into your particular mood and remains inextricably linked.
When I first heard that she was ill, this came on my ipod shortly after. It's somewhat mystical and a bit odd, but it still seems a fit.
"The Hymn to Her" by The Pretenders is my memorial to my friend.
Goodbye my dear wherever you are now. Blessings, gratitude and love. x
She was 50.
It's fair to say it has hit me.
She was a work colleague who I encountered when starting back to my first new job after becoming a mum. Being a nervous returner, I was in a role that punched well below my weight. Yet she saw potential in me and was friendly and encouraging. It would be true to say that I hold the enjoyable job I have now in large part thanks to her. She was generous in her willingness to share knowledge, intelligent, humorous, warm and approachable. She liked the film "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"; had a passionate interest in astral photography and loved gardening.
Because I inherited her working notebooks, I have found myself happening upon little gems of wisdom in her large, loopy handwriting. I pulled a database report today and found her name at the top of the list, 2 years after she went off sick. She is still present in the mundaneness of the everyday despite her passing.
Perhaps not surprisingly, this has imbued me with a renewed imperative to seize the day, enjoy life, try everything I want to try, now, not later. To love my loved ones with the passionate urgency that I feel, to show them and tell them, to be a bit less English about it all.....
It has also however, made me wonder how people will remember me when I die. I didn't know this lady especially well, but I still remember her with great affection and a certainty that the world was a better place because she was in it. I hope I can bear that legacy for others when I finally pop my clogs.
It's funny how a piece of music sometimes entwines itself into your particular mood and remains inextricably linked.
When I first heard that she was ill, this came on my ipod shortly after. It's somewhat mystical and a bit odd, but it still seems a fit.
"The Hymn to Her" by The Pretenders is my memorial to my friend.
Goodbye my dear wherever you are now. Blessings, gratitude and love. x
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
A Scare and a Thing So Incredibly Rare
We are home today -- largely due to a misunderstanding on my part. We are all recovering from a nasty virus that has lasted a good fortnight. The remnants of it seem to be retreating but unfortunately are doing so via small explosions from our bottoms! How nice....
My little one obviously had one such explosion whilst he slept. To my horror this morning on getting him up, I stood looking at what I thought was a patch on blood on his sheet. Whilst he did his usual morning bouncing routine my brain was racking itself with thoughts of what could be wrong and what should I do. I only know that blood from bottoms is not good news.
Ultimately we had a chat and agreed to take the day off school and visit the doctor. Imagine my relief then when on further examining the suspect patch prior to throwing the whole thing in the washing machine I discovered a red pepper skin - nothing more sinister! Thank god -- still it is too late to get to work on time now and even so I think sending a little to school with a loose bum is probably not in the good parenting manual anyway. So home we shall stay today.
Didn't blog at the weekend because I had to prepare for a night out on Saturday. Obviously this took all day because I had to tidy the house for the babysitter coming. We had dinner out, followed by a viewing of "The Woman in Black" at the cinema complex in town. Doesn't get much more rare and exciting for us these days.
The film was big on scare factor and from first impression somewhat short on plot. I didn't think I thought much of it. However, I have found myself mulling on it since - there are unanswered questions and my mind is desperate to fill in the pieces. Unfortunately I am also lumbered with a great visual memory and the face of the woman in black keeps returning to haunt me. Literally whilst I was riding home last night in the dark past woodland. You'd think I'd have grown out of scaring myself at my age - but no!
I have two further excursions into the lives of the sociable to look forward to in the coming week. Saturday will see me tapping my converse to the melodies of Matt Cardle. Whilst Monday will hopefully have me clutching my sides at Dara O'Brien. I'm writing this because it is a thing so incredibly rare.
My little one obviously had one such explosion whilst he slept. To my horror this morning on getting him up, I stood looking at what I thought was a patch on blood on his sheet. Whilst he did his usual morning bouncing routine my brain was racking itself with thoughts of what could be wrong and what should I do. I only know that blood from bottoms is not good news.
Ultimately we had a chat and agreed to take the day off school and visit the doctor. Imagine my relief then when on further examining the suspect patch prior to throwing the whole thing in the washing machine I discovered a red pepper skin - nothing more sinister! Thank god -- still it is too late to get to work on time now and even so I think sending a little to school with a loose bum is probably not in the good parenting manual anyway. So home we shall stay today.
Didn't blog at the weekend because I had to prepare for a night out on Saturday. Obviously this took all day because I had to tidy the house for the babysitter coming. We had dinner out, followed by a viewing of "The Woman in Black" at the cinema complex in town. Doesn't get much more rare and exciting for us these days.
The film was big on scare factor and from first impression somewhat short on plot. I didn't think I thought much of it. However, I have found myself mulling on it since - there are unanswered questions and my mind is desperate to fill in the pieces. Unfortunately I am also lumbered with a great visual memory and the face of the woman in black keeps returning to haunt me. Literally whilst I was riding home last night in the dark past woodland. You'd think I'd have grown out of scaring myself at my age - but no!
I have two further excursions into the lives of the sociable to look forward to in the coming week. Saturday will see me tapping my converse to the melodies of Matt Cardle. Whilst Monday will hopefully have me clutching my sides at Dara O'Brien. I'm writing this because it is a thing so incredibly rare.
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Lent Intent
Well, Lent has started and for the first time in many years I am minded to mark it.
To this effect I signed up for early Sunday morning yoga classes for the duration. I figure this to be a good combination of sacrifice and praxis. I forego my, frankly essential and much anticipated Sunday lie-in to engage my body and nourish my soul. It is both an act of relinquishing and an act of undertaking. Hoorah!
I'm really looking forward to it. I have buy in from my hub, who will in turn get to watch the footie on a Sunday afternoon, while I overcompensate by donning a knights costume and wielding a sword in Narnia play with the boy.
But it isn't the whole story. The driver in this, is not the yoga -- not really.
No, the prime motivator is the fact that I want to stop drinking wine on a Saturday night, and if I have to rise early on Sunday to exercise there will be less inclination to do this.
There -- said it -- now PHEW!!!
I don't even habitually drink a lot. Half of a bottle of wine shared with my hub to mark a Friday and Saturday night isn't that excessive I feel. It's just, lately I've found myself looking forward to it a bit too much. What's more I've been throwing a casual G & T into the mix and this, dear reader, has started to scare me.
If it were just me, or just me and hub, I would quite honestly not be giving this a second thought. I'm not endangering myself particularly or anyone else, or doing any harm, so what?
But it isn't just me any more.
My own parents were problem drinkers.
I know from experience that the impact of this on a child, of any age, is profoundly painful. Even now, at 45 I can't fully examine these feelings without fear that the walls will cave in. Some day I hope I will be able to from a safe place.
For now, it is enough however, to ensure my son never, ever, has to confront this particular issue.
I'm using Lent therefore, to break a habit that isn't currently harmful, but that has future potential to harm. Because make no mistake, a self-harming parent harms their child by default. The more the child loves the parent, the worse it is.
Of the several achievements of which I am proud in my life, becoming a mother is without question the most sublime. Writing this, I realise that there was a long time when I thought and feared it wouldn't happen and now with the benefit of hindsight I know what I would have been missing.
Every day, I'm reminded of the privilege that it is to parent and I want to be the best mummy that I can possibly be.
That's all!
To this effect I signed up for early Sunday morning yoga classes for the duration. I figure this to be a good combination of sacrifice and praxis. I forego my, frankly essential and much anticipated Sunday lie-in to engage my body and nourish my soul. It is both an act of relinquishing and an act of undertaking. Hoorah!
I'm really looking forward to it. I have buy in from my hub, who will in turn get to watch the footie on a Sunday afternoon, while I overcompensate by donning a knights costume and wielding a sword in Narnia play with the boy.
But it isn't the whole story. The driver in this, is not the yoga -- not really.
No, the prime motivator is the fact that I want to stop drinking wine on a Saturday night, and if I have to rise early on Sunday to exercise there will be less inclination to do this.
There -- said it -- now PHEW!!!
I don't even habitually drink a lot. Half of a bottle of wine shared with my hub to mark a Friday and Saturday night isn't that excessive I feel. It's just, lately I've found myself looking forward to it a bit too much. What's more I've been throwing a casual G & T into the mix and this, dear reader, has started to scare me.
If it were just me, or just me and hub, I would quite honestly not be giving this a second thought. I'm not endangering myself particularly or anyone else, or doing any harm, so what?
But it isn't just me any more.
My own parents were problem drinkers.
I know from experience that the impact of this on a child, of any age, is profoundly painful. Even now, at 45 I can't fully examine these feelings without fear that the walls will cave in. Some day I hope I will be able to from a safe place.
For now, it is enough however, to ensure my son never, ever, has to confront this particular issue.
I'm using Lent therefore, to break a habit that isn't currently harmful, but that has future potential to harm. Because make no mistake, a self-harming parent harms their child by default. The more the child loves the parent, the worse it is.
Of the several achievements of which I am proud in my life, becoming a mother is without question the most sublime. Writing this, I realise that there was a long time when I thought and feared it wouldn't happen and now with the benefit of hindsight I know what I would have been missing.
Every day, I'm reminded of the privilege that it is to parent and I want to be the best mummy that I can possibly be.
That's all!
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