Always on duty.

My heart has been broken. I am not the first and won't be last.

I do like to try on my rose-tinted glasses from time to time but they no longer fit. One lense in missing in battle and the other is cracked and scratched. There is Selotape around the middle and they are dusty from lack of use.

To once again view the world through these filters would be glorious. To have the innocence of youth. So trusting, so naive. So beautifuly optimistic. My glasses now only seem to magnify every single detail. Jaded and weary.

We all remember pearls of wisdom given to us as chidren growing up in the world. I never listened. I knew they were trying to help but most of their stories were quite awful. Who wants to listen to that? Now that I am the grown-up with pearls of wisdom of my own, will my own children listen? Can I somehow save them from any future hurts by recounting my own past like terrible warnings?

Mowgli really wanted a motorbike when he grows up. I conditioned him into believing they were utter death traps ridden only by fool hardy youths who have no care for themselves or other road users. We saw a motorbike whoosh past yesterday and he turned and said 'I don't want a motorbike because then I will die and I never want to leave you.' It broke my heart.

At the very essence of my life as a parent, I just want my kids to be happy. If jumping out of a plane or riding a motorbike does this, so be it. It is all about learning to let go someday.

What if someone is careless with their feelings or wreckless with their hearts? It is frustrating to know that they have to find all of this out on their own. I can only give them the tools to prepare them. Confidence to make or break friendships, spirit to live their lives out of the shadows, love to heal their wounded hearts.

Being a parent is the hardest job to get right. There can be no training for this relentless task. They do not care if you have had a long day, crap day, tiring day or hungover day. Their needs are apparent from the moment they wake until the moment they sleep.

It is then we gaze upon their messy bed hair and brush it away from their face. Crouched close to them, kissing their foreheads, breathing in their scent and smiling at the wonder of parenthood. Always on duty.

Zero Tolerance.

Kerry Katona shuts down Twitter page following abuse.

http://news.uk.msn.com/entertainment/article.aspx?cp-documentid=16795190


I cannot stand bullying.

What is it that makes a person better themselves by putting another through mental or physical anguish?



Here is a story.

I was friends for many years with someone who was bullied mercilessly at school. Spat on, punched, verbally abused and obstracised from her peers. Sobbing every night. Eventually having to move schools. This was a girl of 13.

TERRIBLE!

At what age do people exhibit these tendencies? Is it nature or nurture?


Anyhow, I was seemed to know this person who bullied my friend. She was part of a social group of mummies from toddler groups. I was astounded! When approached about it, the bully had no recollection of these incidents. She scarred and shaped somone's live forever with no recollection? How shameful.

I felt so strongly about this, I ceased contact. I just counld not understand how someone could do such a thing and not even remember.

We all have done things in our lives that we regret. Given the chance I am confident we would all face up to past hurts and acknowledged our part we played.

Maybe this only comes with strength of character or strong morals.

Is that nurture or nature?



Children live what they learn by Dorothy Law Nolte.

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.


I wonder what the nest generation will be like?

'Sliding Doors' moment.

I loved that film.

The film follows the life of Helen Quilley (Gwyneth Paltrow), who is fired from her public relations job. The film's plot splits into two parallel universes which run in tandem. In one universe, Helen manages to catch a London Underground train home on time, and in the other she misses it.

In the first scenario, she gets home in time to catch her boyfriend Gerry (John Lynch) red-handed with his ex-girlfriend Lydia (Jeanne Tripplehorn); she promptly dumps him, and meets (and falls in love with) a new man James (John Hannah). Helen met James on the underground, where he engages in discussion with her, including references to pop culture icons like the Beatles and Monty Python.

In the second scenario, she misses the train and tries to catch a cab. While hailing a taxi, Helen falls victim to an attempted mugging. Helen hits her head in the scuffle and is taken to the hospital. She arrives home late, giving Lydia time to leave.

Wonderful premise that begs the question: when was my sliding doors moment?

Was it when I left home at the age of 22 to move in with a man who would then become the father of my kids, my husband and eventually leave me for a younger work colleague?

Was it realising my feelings for Mr Tall after months of holding him at arms length for fear of falling in love again?

Delving deeper, we can all look to any major occurance in our lives and realise we have many 'sliding doors' moments. Are these seen as wistful 'if only's'?

Truth is, what happens to us builds our character into however we choose. Stronger, jaded, happier, bitter etc. We can all wistfully stare into our pasts and wonder if the hand dealt was fair or not.

It is how we choose to learn from each and every 'sliding doors' moment that defines us.

When was yours?

Still surviving

I went for a run yesterday. I am really getting into this fitness malarky. I always said, there was no point getting fit whilst I was still smoking. 8 smoke free weeks now and still going.

As I was running (thank God I was actually RUNNING and not puffed out in a corner)


I SAW THEM.

BOTH OF THEM.


My ex-friend/boss and her mother.

The two that gave me personal hell like no other.

Walking without a care in the world. La, la, la.


DO THEY EVEN KNOW WHAT THEY DID?


This injustice STILL churns me up. I survived a shitty husband walk out on his family. So, why do these two people still affect me in such a way?



Many things happened during my brief 8 months working for my friend and her mother. I was my friend's mentor while she was training to become a nursery worker. I took her under my wing many years ago and watched her blossom into a great nursery assistant. I was proud.

It was her dream to own a nursery one day. Daddy bought one for her. How kind.

With Mowgli at school and a new baby, a single mum needs to make ends meet. So I went back to full-time work when she was 2 months old.

Hind-sight is a beautiful thing and I really should have stayed at my job as a No7 lady. Make-up, perfumes and girly chats. Good days. My parents were looking after the kids everyday and I needed to prove to myself that I was capable of standing on my own two feet. Stubborn, yes. Liberating, absolutely.

So I thought, why not work at my friends nursery? Earn money, still have my little girl with me, pick up Mowgli from school, everyone is a winner.

My sanity lost.

I was made to feel inferior, useless and ashamed. Demoralised and belittled. If someone tells you this over and over, you start to believe it.

Many incidents spring to mind. Like the time my lunch fell out of the fridge onto the floor by my manager opening the fridge. I was made to appologise for it AND had to clean it up. I ate no lunch that day. Or the times I had to ask for permission to go to the bathroom and my requests denied. Many people with power and titles have huge egos and do not remember the friends they stand on to get to the top.

I still have scars on my arms where my nails dug in out of sheer frustration and humiliation.

I dared to speak up one day. Stood my ground. Things were quiet for a week. Then they dismissed me. In the middle of the day so I had to work the rest of that day asking myself, how many of the other staff had known that week? Did they know they were 'getting rid' of me? To be pushed before I jumped took that last of me. I went to the doctors and they signed me off for a month due to stress. I had been given a months notice so I would never have to go back again. I remember walking around my local Tesco's cowering behind my mother in case I bumped into them. A grown woman of 30 with 2 children reduced to this. People can be so very cruel.


I knew I may bump into them someday. I hoped they would see me looking fabulous, laughing surrounded with people I love, harder, better, stronger, faster. I guess it was rather apt they saw me out running. Harder, better, faster and stronger.

I thought about this all evening. Why was this still bothering me?


I was rejected by my ex and that was the very worst. Just when I picked myself up and dusted myself down, life had fired another missile in my direction. Why was I shot down so soon? Did God think I was strong enough to take another shot? Is he preparing me for a big bomb later in life? Or is he shaping me as a person? Does this design my character? Will I allow them both to affect me the rest of my life?




NEVER!


HARDER, BETTER, FASTER, STRONGER.

D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

I was married before.

I was 'in love' and also very pregnant. 8 months to be exact. HUGE dress and HUGE bouquet. Great. I sooooo enjoyed shredding THOSE pictures!

Fact is, at 22, my doctor at the time explained that a medical condition I had (which later proved to be a wrong) meant I would find it hard to conceive naturally. If at all. Devastating news for a girl who didn't want kids right then but one day.

It took 3 months to conceive. Doctors. What do they know. Tsk.

So, deeply religeous parents said I MUST MARRY. One uncle said that my child would be a bastard if I didn't marry. Forgiveness? I still try everyday.

So we got married. It was cheap and quick. No honeymoon. Just a new baby. 5 years later he decided to leave. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

So. Would I marry again? If you had asked me just after my split, I would have said something along the lines of 'I would rather be dragged naked over a field of broken glass than get married again.'

I was a good housewife. I learned some valuable lessons and for that I am grateful. I learned to be tolerant but not a doormat. To laugh often. To air differences. I have grown up a lot in the paths I have travelled down.

Mr Tall has also changed my mind. He is firstly, my friend. We laugh and joke and he tickles me into incontinence. I think of him and I smile.

He taught me how to open my heart and I am not afraid to love again.

Destiny.

Wow. What a title.

What is our destiny? What if we had the ability to see what becomes of us? Would we change any parts, be it good or bad, if ultimately it led to a different ending?

Are we destined to be reminded of things when we least expect it?

I went shopping today to hunt for costume ideas for Mowgli. He is going to school tomorrow dressed as 'Cat in the Hat.' God bless Book Week. Whilst shopping, I saw some ties on a rack. 'Thank god I don't have to look for ties anymore' I thought to myself and then stopped. Why did that thought HAVE to pop in my head?

When my ex-husband left, I gathered EVERYTHING that reminded me of him and our life together and put them in two huge boxes. Ther were full of pictures, notes, cards and other momentos from 7 years together. These were then stored high in a cupboard to be dealt with when I was ready. You see, I didn't want to be piecing my life back together only to find a note he wrote or a cup he bought me. I was very thorough. It was my coping mechanism and like Bobby Brown, my perogative.

A good line from a film called 'Under the Tuscan Sun'

"Do you know the most surprising thing about divorce? It doesn't actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart or a head-on car wreck. It should. When someone you've promised to cherish till death do you part says "I never loved you," it should kill you instantly. You shouldn't have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn't know."

Well, like it says, it should kill you instantly but it doesn't. You survive. You get up, dust yourself down and get on with it. No time to wallow with a 5 year old and brand new baby. They were my reason to go on, to get up, to move on. Many women have and are going through exactly what I was. It is always good for me to put this into perspective. I was lucky to have an excellent support network of family and friends. Some are not so lucky. When all around you is darkness, you need to be sure the people around you guide you to the correct exit.

I am also very lucky to have found Mr Tall. He is my knight in shining armour and together we face the world as an army of two.

Can we erase memories? No but we can create new ones. Record over used tapes. Easier said than done but it is possible.

What became of the boxes? After a few months, I had a jolly evening in the very good company of a cheeky bottle of red wine shredding it all. At one point, the shredder over-heated with the sheer volume! No more visual memories to remind me.

Now it is time to record over my tapes.

My social experiment.

Mr Tall is inspiring.

He has travelled solo all over the world, seen most major landmarks, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, helped the poor in Uganda, plus taken on a single mother with two children.

*phew*

I love when we are watching TV and he points out 'been there' and 'done that'. He really does has the travel spirit and like anyone who is passionate about something, it is amazing to hear.

I, however, married young and settled down with kids. I sometimes wonder what my life may have been like if I had travelled down a different road. I am positive that everyone has wistful moments like these. 'What ifs' can be someones daily torture. Time to make a change.

I opted for an evening in the company of yours truly. It first involved a shopping trip taken straight after work. Now, my perception of shopping changed after having my children. No longer can I peruse the aisles and loiter in the changing rooms debating on colour and style. It has become a military exercise on how quick we can enter and leave the shop without a holocaust. Yes, there was a time when I adored shopping.

I meandered along, taking full advantage of the late night shopping facilities. Oh, and the joy of NO KIDS. Mine or others. It was bliss. Only inept store assistants, whose lack of knowledge on pop 80's icons was inexcusable. (WHO is Debbie Harry? COME ON!)

My next test. Can I eat alone at a restaurant? It has been done before by many but not I. I was greeted by the waitress and positioned at a table in the middle of the restaurant. I felt slightly exposed but as it was a social experiment, I decided to go with my unease and sat down.

The staff all seemed very attentive. I suppose when you are on your own, it is merely to sit, eat and leave. With others, it is more a social occasion and one not to feel flustered to order, eat and leave within a particular time limit.

Yes, I did Twitter at the restaurant. Whilst liberating, it was lonely. No one to talk to or try new things with. The sharing experience of eating with others is something I love.

The evening came to an end quite soon after. Well, I was tired and I missed Mr Tall. Absence makes the heart fonder. I do believe that if you spend every living, breathing moment with someone, you stop having anything to talk about. Everyone needs their own space because you appreciate the moments you ARE with them. Be it partners/children or even mother-in-laws.

Pensieve, please.

I have so much swimming around in my head today.

Ok, a little reminising. Only looking back to see how far I have travelled.
It has been a year since I left the worst job ever.

I worked for a friend (no longer) in her nursery. It was one of the biggest mistakes I could have made. Totally demoralised and bullied. I managed to navigate my childhood and teenage years as the fat kid without this and here I was, a single mum of two at 30 years of age, being bullied by a peer. In fact, being so obviously bullied that all other workers cringed.

I still cannot think about this time without a complete sense of injustice. My voice was not heard and it was at a time where it tested my sense of value and self worth to the very limit. Somedays, even beyond. I cannot begin to imagine how any child who goes through this can remain unscathed. They pushed me before I jumped and did it in such a way, no action could be taken. It still makes me seethe. Need to work on that I guess.

Why do people act in this way? Why do they have a need and drive to make another feel inferior?

Bad mother syndrome

Am I the only mother who gazes adoringly at her children only when they are asleep? Sure, they make me laugh at their antics but for the most part, my children can be irritating.

Yes, I am a baaaaaad mummy for admitting this.

Let me explain.

When we are in our local supermarket and they announce they need a wee or a poo. Not, 'excuse me mother (in a voice barely audiable) could you escort me to the public lavatories at your convinience?' No. It is tannoy volume in the busiest, furthest away aisle in the most colourful and graphic description. Nice.

Am I the only mother who HAS to entice their two year old to do ANYTHING (get dressed/walk/keep shoes on etc) with the promise of biscuits or cake? I even dangled a sweet in front of Mogwai to get her to walk faster than a sloth up the stairs.

Don't misunderstand me. I LOVE my children. They are my life. That is probably my point. They ARE my life. Any decision, however big or small, must take them into condideration. Without them, I am lost.

I must remind myself I am in the Summer of my life. The Autumn will come later(hopefully)and then I can harvest the fruits of my labour.

Parenthood teaches you about the ultimate sacrifice. Yourself.

Kids and weekends.

Early start today. Kids have no concept of weekend time. Mummy will be in a cross mood if I wake her at stupid o'clock by shouting and bouncing on bed. Ah, what the hell!

I can remember waaaay back when I was small sneaking into the sitting room early on a Saturday morning to watch TV. No CBeebies or DVD's OR even a video recorder. Just cartoons, when you see 'em and then they were gone. DOUBLE BILL! DOUBLE BILL! TOM AND JERRY!

I need a holiday.

My life so far.......

So. Here I am, writing my first 'blog'.



What to write? I guess I should start by explaining my journey so far. I'll skip bits that are irrelevant or too gory. Eek.



Youngest of two. My older sister is fabulous and ALWAYS thinner than me, damit! One day her metabolism will catch up and BOOM! Ah, can only hope. No kids apart from the ones she teaches. Lives in London in a stylish and neat apartment. See? Fabulous. She was my first friend and shares my soundbank. Even our parents cannot tell the difference on the phone.



I was the rebel. Funny, fat kid at school who made 'em laugh so that they wouldn't pick on me. Constantly sent out of class and skipping classes to smoke at the end of the field. Or to go to the beach. I mean, honestly, who builds a school right next to the beach. Begging for truancy. I left school with flying colours. Much to the astonishment of many teachers. And myself.



Fast forward a couple of years. Rebelling against my strict, Spanish and devout catholic parents was my favourite past-time. They liked me to have long hair, but in a moment of rebellion, I had it cut short. (Natalie Imbruglia style. Short, fat and basically looked like a man) I was not the Stepford child as they may have wished for. A normal teenager then.



Next bit are the rollercoaster years. Left home to move in with 'my one true love' at 22. Pregnant by the end of the year. Married a few months later (I had a very large bouquet and father, large shotgun) and a month later I had my boy who we shall call Mowgli. More of that another time.



Fast forward 5 years and whilst pregnant with our 2nd child, (we shall call her Mogwai) husband decides to leave. It was the 'I love you but not IN love with you' script. Reality was, he had fallen for a colleague. The bottom fell out of my world. More of THAT another time.



Fast forward 2 years and here I am. A survivor who has been through the storms to find the sunshine. Some days it rains. It used to remind me of the storms of yesteryear. Now it just reminds me of how far I have travelled and how I am stronger than I ever could have imagined.



Ok. Back to real time. Today.



Today was a constant cajouling exercise. Please put your shoes on/back on/no don't climb on the table/don't pull your brother's hair/one more mouthful and then pudding-come on/let mummy just have a quick shower...... Ok. Do you need a wee? Oh, you already have. No don't take off your...have you done a poo too? On the floor? Oh Mogwai! Naughty girl. *sob* No, I have just made my bed and I have cream sheets. OUT OUT OUT!! They don't call it the terrible two's for nothing.



More wine anyone? *hic*