This way up

I have landed on my feet. I am very, very lucky. What an amazing week I have had here in my new home and new life? Having moved last Friday, a very smooth move, by Saturday the place looked fairly straight and I felt very 'at home'. The children seem settled and Small Sprog is sleeping better (touch wood) I couldn't be more pleased.

Last weekend was full of visitors, lots of happy people bearing flowers, gifts and cards, I couldn't believe how lovely it all was, my friends, in my home. Almost too many blessings to count. Though I did count them, am still counting. . .

It didn't stop there either. On Monday my Lovely Mans parents came down and bought us a delicious lunch. Then today I met fellow blogger Bobo, who also bought me lunch! (Lunch is such a lovely word, don't you think? It sort of sounds yummy, or perhaps I just love eating?!) It was fab to meet him, isn't it brilliant the way we can mix our virtual and non virtual worlds sometimes? (Thanks Bobo and thanks to Hulla too for my amazing gift. Hope to see you one day too)

Even more fabulous things are planned for the weekend. My Man and I are away for two nights, somewhere special and then dropping into see his lovely family on the way home, staying overnight there too to make a really long weekend. How amazing is that?

Sometimes life can be a huge pain in the bum, and yet at other times, well it just keeps getting better. My mantra, the thing I have learnt over the last two years, is to live for the moment and make the most of every day. I remind myself of this often, for I have spent a long time living in the past and the here and now were never a thing I considered often. So if you are reading this and having a 'pain in the bum' sort of a time, take heart for nothing lasts forever. Soon good times will come again, but they won't last forever either, so make each minute count. It's a great life and right now, I intend to live it.

In love with my Kitchen

'I love meatballs Mummy' says Tall Girl, shovelling down her supper last night. 'I think we should have them on the menu every week'

'Me too' splutters Small Sprog, through another mouthful.

I smile to myself. At last, a meal they agree on, something they both like, no 'Jack Sprat', for they never agree on a meal, satisfying one often leads to howls of revulsion from the other!

I enjoyed making the meal too, perhaps it showed in the eating. Stirring the rich tomatoey sauce slowly on the stove, chopping onions, crushing juicy garlic, watching it bubble in the pan. I can't remember enjoying cooking a meal that much for a long time, in my kitchen, my own space.

We all eat with glee, candles lit, music playing. The new kitchen table, a John Lewis indulgence, laid with my favourite bright mats. A pot of bright 'tet-a-tet' daffodils in the centre.

After the children have gone upstairs, after clearing up, I replace the lit candle with my favourite glass fruit bowl, fold the napkins, take stock. I flick the light switch, smile at the effect of the homely glow, the arrangement, my things, the way I like them, the atmosphere, the calm.

I take a deep breath, count my considerable blessings, turn out the light once more and head to bed. How strange it is to be here, after so long, strange but very, very good indeed.

2 Years old!

I have missed my birthday! 2 years of blogging on 3rd March. I can't believe it's been that long and, I know it sounds strange, those two years have changed my world.

I love that so many of my bloggy friends that I made during that first few months are still blogging too. I love being part of this community. Only you lot will understand that!

See you all when I am either 'borrowing' an Internet connection, or have my own again.

Meanwhile have a virtual glass of bubbly. I have 2 things to celebrate, 2 years here, and a new home with a whole new future ahead. You have to help me drink to that surely?!

Cheers!

Finally

Tonight is the last night I will spend in this house. After all the waiting it seems very strange, almost unreal. I have been here 9 years, Small Sprog was less than 18 months old when we moved in. He learnt to walk in the back garden, both children learnt to ride their bikes here, they have both started school from here, they have celebrated many birthdays and Christmases here too, they have grown. So many milestones, So many memories. Yet for the children, to move house will be even more strange. Tomorrow I leave for good, but they will continue to come back here to their 'home', every time they see their Dad. I hope they can deal with that. I am glad that I don't have too.

I would never have guessed, when I moved in, that I would move out under these circumstances, alone with my children. It is a strange life. Sometimes, I think, it is better not to know what the future holds.

This might be the last time....

All packed now and waiting to move on, apart from last minute things; favourite bedtime toys, hair straighteners (TG's) and the Wii! It is over 15 years since I lived alone and then I was childless.The responsibility of being a single parent feels very daunting. Gosh, I never thought I'd be one.

This morning, when I went into Tall Girls room, she suddenly said 'Mummy, I think we should all have baths on our first night in our new house (this is the girl that never used to like washing!), then we can put on or PJ's, and snuggle under a blanket to watch TV and eat pizza'

'What a fab idea' I replied and smiled to myself, this was how she wanted to celebrate, she is very happy to be moving, I hope it lives up to her expectations. It did indeed sound a lovely way to spend our first evening there together, if I can just tear myself away from the gentle murmuring of the boxes... 'Unpack me' they will call. I just hope I can resist the temptation to get straight as soon as possible.

PS.The good news is I may have an internet connection by middle of next week. Yay!

Not there quite yet but soon.

Sorry I'm not visiting much at the moment. It has been a manic few days. I have spent the weekend moving furniture from various places, Mums mostly, and then beds from 2 different friends who have kindly donated to my cause, loads of stashed goodies from BS5 and elsewhere, finishing off with picking up 2 new mattresses. This coming Friday I have a removal company booked to move me out of suburbia. Only 3 more days to spend here, after nearly 9 years of being in this house. I never really liked it when we moved in, I will not mind shutting the door for the last time.

I have spent all day here alone boxing things up. I forgot how much you can collect over the years. It should be mandatory to move every year or so, just so you have a good clear out! It has been a happy but exhausting day, and I have worked flat out. It feels so good to pack up my favourite things and imagine them in a new home. I feel as though I should be sad, but I can't muster any other emotion but gladness.

Oh, apart from annoyance that I can't get an Internet connection to my new home for 3 or 4 weeks. I'll miss you!

Got my keys. OMG. I'm scared.

Preparations

It has been a busy week, with lots to sort out, boxes to pack and vans to book. There are hiccups, isn't moving one of the top ten stressful things to do, along with divorce I believe? I hope to get my keys on Friday, but as yet, my employer has not sent back the reference for me, another 2 days before they can tick a couple of boxes and fax it back can you believe? Perhaps I should go to work today and twiddle my thumbs for a while!!

Anyway, Small Sprog is excited about having a larger bedroom when we move. He has a dream of setting up his Scalextrics his new room, so that the track runs under his bed. He has talked about this a lot, he has 'boy genes' for moving house, Tall Girl is more interested in matching bedding and sparkly cushions!

Husband has other thoughts about the racetrack. He wants to keep it here for Small Sprog, to set up in the attic room when I have gone. I mentioned the issue to Small Sprog this morning.

'I want to have it in both houses' he said.

Husband had obviously chatted to Small Sprog about it too.

'You can move it between both houses if you like' I replied .'Seeing as we have a van though, where do you want to have it first?'

He thought long and hard. I know he wants it in his new home, he has talked about it a lot. I could see a 'thinking frown' on his face.

'I'll leave it here for a while' he said after careful consideration 'So then Daddy will have something to look forward to'

I could have cried. He is 10, born thoughtful and kind. In all of this upheaval, he is thinking about other peoples feelings. What more could I ask for?

(Mind you, these thoughts do not count when doing battle with ones sister!!)

I've done it!

Oh my goodness, I have done it! I have put a holding deposit on a house for the three of us.

Now I know I've done this before, about 2 weeks ago, and the landlord refused us in favour of a 2.4 family unit. I was upset then, it seemed that I was never meant to escape and I have to say I still liked that house better. However we have kept looking over the last 10 days or so, and after much mind boggling confusedness, sometimes seeing several properties daily, I realised I needed to make a decision.

The children fell in love with a fairly new house in a very built up area. I have a dream to be surrounded by more greenery and trees. There were 2 rented houses, one in each category. Choosing between them was hard.

Last Friday night I felt as though I was loosing my mind and couldn't think straight. My wonderful S.O. took me to the country and his family for the weekend. It was such a relief not to think for a few days and when I returned, things seemed not so bad but I also knew I could no longer wait for the perfect house. I was lucky to have a couple of options and so I needed to decide.

Tuesday night I spent quite a while on the phone to my favourite and very sensible friend. I had tried talking it through with Mum, but she was hopeless! Not her fault, just too close to the situation I guess. Anyway, my wonderful friend listened, reflected back to me and after a while I realised which move was best, sometimes just verbalising the whole thing brings it all into perspective. 'If the children are happy, you will be too' she said, very wisely. I knew she was right.

So yesterday morning I put down a holding deposit on the childrens favourite house and, subject to references (because the landlady has agreed to have a single mum as a tenant already) I should have keys a week tomorrow.

Gosh, I am scared! But very excited too, just keeping a lid on that until my references have cleared and then, well, a whole new way of living I hope!

Mediation..

Mediation yesterday was neither good nor bad. The finances, which we were supposed to be discussing, were pushed to the end because half of the time was spent with husband going over what had been agreed regarding the children weeks before, mostly insisting on deciding a date when he could have both children week on week off.

I have tried hard to push this option to the back of my mind. Last session we just said as and when, no date, leave it to the children to decide. But no, he wants to plan a moment in time. I know it will happen one day, when they are older. I dread it, hope that they will feel too comfortable in the familiar arrangement that they will have got used to and not want to change it, hope that in two years time everyone will have a different perspective....

However the reality is that husband wants to plant the seed of living with him week on week off, now. Hoping that it will become what is expected when the time comes. The mediator asked me what I thought, he mentioned not brainwashing them. I said I did not want to lose them to a 50/50 arrangement, but that when they were older I would trust them to choose. I cannot rock the boat and stake my claim forever. I felt that so much progress was made last time that I didn't want to go back 10 paces. So I agreed that they could decide, in 2 years, whether they wanted to live with their Dad every other week.

I have to trust them, worse, I have to trust him not to put pressure on them. Two years is a long time, things will change for all of us, but I know it will fly by in reality. I hope I do not live to regret not being more assertive, though I don't think I could have refused, it would have jeopardised everything that had gone before. For now I have them, for now.

Half term

It has been a strangely lonely half term, and this is only the feeling I have, in reality it has been reasonably full and fun.

Most half terms, unless we are away, which becomes more and more unlikely these days, are spent enjoying late mornings, meeting friends and playing (the children) and drinking tea (us mums) It is all very pleasant and sociable and keeps me sane. However one arrangement with a friend on Monday did not happen because of illness (theirs) and it left the beginning of the week very empty. We had all been looking forward to seeing them, the children and I. My friend R has a nasty chesty cold and her daughter is worse, they are very fed up not to have done anything all week but feel ill. Poor things.

Yesterday I had a very long call from her regarding all her worries for her eldest daughter who is incredibly neurotic and hardly sleeps, keeping her mother up until 2am most nights, there are health worries and mental health too,she talks about her husband troubles and constant money problems. I listened and wished I could wave a magic wand. In the end I had to finish the call in order to go to a house viewing. I didn't like to stop her mid flow.

Then last night I had a cryptic text at about 10pm. 'Are you there?' it said. Goodness me, I thought, I hope her daughter hadn't taken a turn for the worse, or that her Husband hasn't been harsh with her again or...

I texted back,'Yes I'm here, do you want me to call you?'

'No can't talk out loud' she said. Then another text...

'One of the guinea pigs has just died, I don't know how I'm going to tell the girls in the morning'

I texted back my sympathies and said soothing things (I think). She has a lot on her plate and sometimes small things can be the last straw. Another message from her minutes later 'And now Eldest Daughter has a nose bleed'

'OMG' I texted back 'I don't know how you cope'

'I don't know how you cope either' she acknowledged later.

We all need good friends sometimes

Last Wednesday (part two)

When the old sea dog emerged from the interview room I offered him his seat back, it took him a while to understand me, but he refused my offer, I was glad I had offered.

Number 2 was called in, a large woman, very large. She waddled towards the small room. I wondered how much of the room she would take up with her vastness. The sea dog sat in her chair.

When she reappeared from the interview room, she took four paces forward, towards the seat she had occupied earlier. She shuffled forward again and stood, almost toe to toe, with the Old Sea Dog. She stared at him in silence. The tension in the room rose, a pin could have dropped and crashed to the ground. I could see the poor mans confusion. It took him a while to realise what was going on. Eventually he stood, gave up his seat, and walked to the centre of the room as she sat down heavily, filling the seat as before.

I wondered to myself if I should ask him if he would like my seat again, then person number 3 was called. Obviously the third seat became vacant, but the Old Sea Dog remained on his feet. One experience like that would be enough for anyone in this less than comfortable environment. I felt the tears again. There was no kindness in the room.

Then another man, sitting two seats down the row from where I was sitting, stood and motioned to the Sea Dog that he should take his seat instead. I had noticed this man earlier mostly because his mobile went off every few minutes, sending a jolly Middle Eastern tune, or perhaps it was more 'Bollywood', around the waiting room. He was a short stubby man, dressed from head to toe in black, I couldn't make out the language he spoke into his phone.

The Bollywood ring tone man gently insisted to the Sea Dog that he should use his seat. The Sea Dog gratefully accepted. The Bollywood ring tone man then sat in the seat belonging to the person in the interview room. Woe betide anyone who expected that seat back again!

The right thing had been done. There was kindness in the room, it wasn't totally a 'dog at dog' world.

We sat in silence, the rest of us, avoiding gazes, only the occasional mobile phone conversation added interest to the icy room. One by one the seats became empty, people moved on, the tension drained but the coldness remained. Outside the snow fell.

Was the wait worth it? No, not really. I learnt nothing new about my position. No financial help was available. Joint funds mean no help, despite my low income. I am lucky, I guess, to have any savings at all. It's still a tricky 'on the edge' type of existence alone though. When I am penniless I can live rent free. I hope it never comes to that.

Last Wednesday (part one)

I am the last person in the waiting room. There is a biting draft blowing around my ankles caused by the two inch gap between the ill fitting front door and the stone step beneath. Outside it has started to snow, though over three hours ago, when I was queuing outside, the sky had been blue and the day held such promise.

When the doors opened at 9.30am I was given a card with the number 13 on it, there were two more people behind me. By the time we had all passed through the doors into the chilly room, all the seats were full and someone was occupying the floorspace near the only bit of wall without a door in it.

I stood

The atmosphere was tense. Everyone in the room needed attention, urgently. There were 10 appointments and 15 clients.

Within a few minutes a man came out of the office to address the whole room, explaining the system; a five minute interview with each person in the room to identify need and then an interview to deal with the problem, if you were lucky...

Number one was called, an older man, with the look of an 'Old Sea Dog' about him, large misted eyes and possibly hard of hearing, he stood and entered the interview room.

I went to sit on his seat and waited. I read the posters around the room, domestic violence, help with debts, racial violence, teenage pregnancy... It was a depressing place. The tears stung my eyes, and rolled silently down my cheeks as I fished for a tissue in my pocket to hastily mop them up.

When the old sea dog emerged from the interview room I offered him his seat back, it took him a while to understand me, but he refused my offer, I was glad I had offered.

Number 2 was called in, a large woman, very large. She waddled towards the small room. I wondered how much of the room she would take up with her vastness. The sea dog sat in her chair.

The room was still full, and twitchy. In the corner was a radio blaring out the local station, lots of jolly tunes in such juxtaposition to the mood of the room. It wasn't until sometime later that I noticed the thick chain that secured it to the radiator cover. Above the radio was a clock on the wall, it said 9.30 am, the time that the doors had opened, when I left four hours later it still said the same time in the waiting room. . .

One step forwards and seven back.

I have had the worst week in ages this last seven days. Wednesday was a horrible day and I need to write about that soon, but after having a week to ten days of mental turmoil (plus the last year or so!) about whether I can afford to move out and rent a house for the three of us, I really thought it was all over. I made the decision, wise or not, to live for the moment. Mental health was more important than long term financial security.

So yesterday I took the children to a second viewing of a lovely house. They instantly liked it as had I on first inspection. It was cheaper than the other good one we had seen the week before. So, after weeks of sleepless nights, I took the plunge. Said yes, wrote the check and took the form away with me to fill in for references etc.

Apparently there was someone else having a second viewing today. The agent told me if I could get the form back to them first thing in the morning, they could cancel all the other viewings and the house would be mine subject to references. The children and I spent the evening at home (without husband) chatting excitedly about it all. There seemed no doubt that the house would be ours and that we could move in in a few weeks. All I needed to do was to fill in the form and post it into the agent before work this morning, which I duly did.

This afternoon I had a call. The other viewing had taken place, so both my 'profile' and the other family's profile were put to the landlord to choose which tenant he wanted. Bear in mind I could pay a substantial amount of rent up front.

But hey, as a landlord who would you prefer? A married couple with 2 children or a single mum. It wasn't really a surprise, an easy decision for him I think. Who would want a single mother in their property with two children when a nuclear family is so much more 'reliable'?

I'm sure you can tell I am feeling very raw. I am sobbing as I write. Poor Small Sprog is heart broken too and Tall Girl is swimming and doesn't know yet. I don't want to tell her, she will be devastated too. That's how much we need to get out of here, there really does seem to be no end, even when I try to force the issue.

Everything happens for a reason they say. I really wish I could see the reason behind this one. . .

My kindhearted boy

Small Sprog has gone tobogganing with his cub group tonight. Husband has taken him because I am taking Tall Girl to something else. Small Sprog has been very excited about going.

"I'll take my camera mummy, so you can see what it was all like!" He said this morning when we were alone. He knows that all the photos of the children that his dad takes, on the digital camera, I am never allowed to see, not even the birthday ones.

Husband has a VERY expensive camera which was supposed to be a joint possession. Seems I have lost my half! He downloads all the photos onto his laptop and then immediately deletes them from his camera. I have lost a years worth of memories. But I still have my children, so I can't really complain I guess.

Anyway, I was touched at Small Sprogs thoughtfulness. He wanted to take his camera so he could show me his fab night out. Just how he was going to take a photo of himself tobogganing I don't know, but it was kind and thoughtful of him to think of me. Bless him.

So tonight as I was kissing him goodbye, he said to his dad "I thought I could take my camera. Then I could show. . ."

His thought process stopped for a split second ". . .Tall Girl what it was like"

"It's OK, I've got mine" Husband said. That was it. No question of arguing the point for Small Sprog.

I gave Small Sprog an extra squeeze. I knew he was protecting me and had thought about the situation. I wish, in a way, he didn't have to think like that at all, but I am very thankful for his thoughtfulness.

To Let

Funny how things move on. I went to look at a house last night to rent. All of a sudden it seems possible (unless you look at the finances that is)

I have found myself looking about me recently thinking about what I must remember to take, wondering what I shall be allowed to take. The property that I looked at was unfurnished, I will need to take stuff, we have enough here, but I wonder if he'll let me, physically I mean. It's not going to be pretty is it, the day when I take furniture out of this house?

The house was almost perfect for us really, as rented houses go, but as it is the first I've looked at it felt wrong to commit. Also I have to steel myself until 22nd February, when we have our next mediation session though, as you know, I don't have much hope of that working.

So, I am preparing myself, mentally I guess, for a move of some sort. Over the last year I feel I have lost the ability to organise, the stuffing has been knocked out of me a little, I am not the competent woman I used to be, not inside. The thought of organising services, bills, mortgage or rent repayments single handed seems very scary from here. I used to do it. I used to own my own house and live there by myself, it seemed easy, once. I feel I have 'lost the knack'.

Tomorrow I am off to see another property to let. At least I will have more than one to compare then.

PS. Just realised this is my 450th post!

Happy Weekend to you, whatever you're doing.

Small Sprog the diplomat

'Would you like to sit in the back seat Tall Girl?' Says Small Sprog grinning. How could she refuse?!

I have an ongoing battle with both of them about who sits in the front seat of the car. They can battle about whose turn it is when we are only going on a 5 minute journey, let alone a 'proper' journey! It's endless.

I have asked them to take turns, be sensible and share. I have threatened that if they can't sort it out themselves then they'll both go in the back of the car, always. I have suggested that they could try being kind to each other, along the lines of; 'Would you like to go in the front today, My Lovely Sister'! None of these really works, surprise, surprise!

Until yesterday evening on the way back from Small Sprogs Extra Maths. They both ran to the car, racing and jostling for position, Small Sprog slightly ahead, reached the door, opened it wide and said 'Would you lie to sit in the BACK seat Tall Girl?' I did laugh, rather than offer the front seat, he limited her choices to the worst option! She just had to take it! I wonder how long he'd been thinking about that one?!

He's off school poorly today, I'm not really sure he is really poorly at all, while I sit here with him and worry about the fact that I am having another day off work due to child sickness. . .

Is there no end?

Today I saw my solicitor in order to go through the finances and get it straight in my head before thrashing it all out with husband in mediation in a few weeks time. No problem I thought. That light twinkling at the end of the very long tunnel was certainly shining more brightly last time I looked.

The solicitor and I went over the figures, what I need, what he was offering, the difference between the two. I took a deep breath, 'I'm not sure that this will get sorted out during mediation' I said to her. She nodded her agreement. Court would the be the solution in the event of that being the case. 'So how long would it take then?' I said 'If we have to go to court to settle the finances?'

'You should be sorted by this time next year' she stated

'This time next year?' My heart sank.

At home tonight Tall Girl was unhappy. She wants it all over. Home isn't really home any more. 'It's not like it used to be'

'Will you be happier after we are all separate?' I asked her, steeling myself

'Yes' She replied without hesitating.

The solicitor tells me not to move out. Financially unsound move, she says. But for all our mental healths sake? What price can you put on that? Tall Girl has managed well so far, but right now she is feeling the stress. Small Sprog has been not right for a while now. Decision made. We cannot stay.

My day off this week will be used to seek out suitable rented accommodation, find out what I need to know (It's years since I have rented anywhere), everything is so expensive, all of it more than I earn a month, and there's not much about either. However there will be somewhere for us. There must be. As Tall Girl says, 'we just haven't found it yet'.....

The return

I returned home tonight to my children, I always return to them, I have to, I love them and am very thankful for them but hope that soon, very soon, one day I will not have to face coming home to Husband too. There is no pleasure in returning when he is here.

Before I left on Friday night I tried to impart information about the children that I thought he ought to know. He had been away Thursday night and I felt as though I needed to put him in the picture.Tall Girl had been poorly and off school for a day and a half, Small Sprog had a bucket load of homework to do (Tall Girl had avoided most of hers because she had been away from school) along with is thank you letters to start and guitar practice to do too. Tall girl had some pick-me-ups from the chemist that I thought husband should know about. I wrote it down and tried to impart. I was ignored. It had the desired effect, I was annoyed. I kept calm, on the outside! At least I had left a list of all the childrens things that needed to be done, from years of experience of living with him, I knew that even if he listened, he would not remember.

So when I came home tonight, with a heavy heart, I was not surprised that some of the homework was unfinished, none of the letters were written and, as always, nothing had been done in the house other than cook and wash up. It turns out Tall Girl cooked tonight too, bless her.

I try not to let it get to me, I'm sure husband does it on purpose. Now I will be the one who has to 'crack the whip' to get Small Sprog to finish all his jobs.

I know that when we live in different houses, I won't know that the childrens clothes are not washed, the beds are not changed and the toys are not put away. I will be in happy ignorance, I can't wait. Right now it annoys me beyond belief!

Meanwhile, as I come home with the sole purpose to see my two children, he does his level best to engage them in things that keep them from me. This too will change, the situation is temporary, but it is annoying and sad all at the same time. Small Sprog is whisked off to bed by husband, who then takes far longer than necessary reading a story so that I don't get much time with Small Sprog myself. It is all done for effect, it is hard to ignore.

When Tall Girls bedtime comes along, husband has her in his room with the door shut for ages. She is late to bed. Again.

The arrangement, when we are separated, will be that husband picks up both children after school on Friday night and drops them to me early Tuesday morning. There will be no handover in my house or his, just a quick drop off at the front door in the morning before husband goes to work. All the inconveniences of now will not be possible, there may be others then, but right now I don't want to think about what those might be!

I am sorry to rant. He is a selfish and bitter man, I have added to his bitterness, I cannot wait to escape. Home, here in suburbia, is in such contrast to the peaceful time that was mine this weekend. I am SO grateful for the time away that I have had.

Strangers again...

To become strangers again. How can that happen when you have shared so much with someone over the years?

I have thought about that a lot and I think it is carelessness. We were both careless, the fragility of a beautiful thing is precious, it needs to be nurtured, we forgot to look after it.

I looked after the children instead, I tried hard to look after everything but I can remember the point where I gave up wanting to look after the precious thing. Without me noticing it became less precious, after a while I thought 'why am I nurturing something which has shriveled to almost nothing, no kind words spoken, no good deeds done'. I felt invisible, unimportant, ignored. I was. I had small children, they became the most important things. I lost myself, had no more left to give, I disappeared.

That is how we became strangers, with nothing in common but our two sweet children.

Somewhere along the way, we gave up, he gave up. How curious.

In the room...

Once in the room with the mediator I felt much better. He was peaceful and quietly spoken. We sat down in an office like environment, blinds drawn, chairs arranged in a circle but with more than an arms length apart! I was given a glass of water that I held on to tightly, my comfort blanket, a substitute.

The mediation session started like a team meeting, with the mediator using a flip chart and pen to write headings of what we hoped to discuss. It felt possible then, that all would be well.

He addressed us individually, kept us on track. We spoke to him, rather than to each other. What a skilled man he was. He asked us to think about our motives for this, our reasons for that, directing us all the time to an inevitable compromise and conclusion. We ran over by 15 minutes, a conclusion was reached, we left alone, me via the stairs, husband in the lift.

As I walked out onto the street I could see no one that looked like husband ahead of me, I did not look behind. I was relieved. The street was cold and damp, and as I walked I felt a little numb. The stranger in the room, he knew my children so well, he was there father and he was fighting too.

It was over, to be reviewed in 6 months time from separation. Not ideal, but a start. The children will live mostly with me, and I have avoided them being split up, except for one night in every 2 weeks. That was the compromise, from 3 nights to 1. Next time he will want more.

The waiting room

As I drive towards the center of the city I feel a little faint, sick and not sure if my stomach will last the hour and a half of mediation in store. I try to calm myself, at least I wasn't loosing the children completely, how would that feel? Unimaginable.

I was flustered, couldn't decide where to park, parked in one car park and then realised I was too wobbly to walk the distance, so drove to a closer one which cost a fortune!

Once walking I felt a little better. I was early and didn't want to sit and watch the clock for 15 minutes especially if husband and I were in the same room. Luckily I was first and was directed towards the waiting room. I staked my claim on one chair, putting my bag on the one next to me, as if on public transport. I waited, book in hand but not taking in the words on the page.

Within minutes I heard someone else coming up in the lift. He was ushered to a seat further along the row. A brief nod of acknowledgement was all that passed between us. We sat there, two strangers in a small room, waiting to discuss our dearest children.

I wasn't sad, far too much water under the bridge for that, but it was curious. Sixteen years ago we'd not quite met, and here we were strangers again, but with two precious things in common which we were willing to fight tooth and nail for . . . . .

Today is a good day, for now.

The washing machine is fixed.

The custody is sorted, for now....

A six month trial. Six months will go so fast. I have managed to keep the children together except for one night, so I can cope with that. And they will stay with me more nights than with their father. For now...

I am frightened about the future. But for now I am trying to rest my brain a while and enjoy the little respite I have, knowing they are safe, together and mostly with me.

The mediator was fantastic, a very clever man, who kept his calm and ours. I am very grateful to him.

In four weeks time we will meet again to settle finances. I know for a fact that financial matters will take far longer than 2 hours, if we can settle at all. But that is another story.

Today is a milestone, one that has taken far to long to get too, but has been reached nonetheless. Today there is a very, very small twinkle at the end of a massive tunnel and I think it is getting very slightly larger as I gaze in.

PS. Thank you to everyone who has sent me good wishes, it means a lot to feel peoples kindness, it is very much appreciated.

Good day / Bad day?

Tomorrow is a big day for me, very big.......because.........the washing machine man cometh! Yes, at last! Almost a month to the day, the man is due to turn up to fix my machine. I've waited since Boxing Day, so not bad really!

Since Boxing Day I have been carrying loads of dirty washing around Bristol and the wider area, quite a lot travelled as far as Cheltenham, to willing friends and relatives who have kindly let me use their machines. Thank you so much, you know who you are!

The man is due at 7.30am. No pressure then! Lets hope it is mend able.

And then there is the little matter of the mediation appointment...

If it is a good day, by tomorrow evening I will have a washing machine that works as well as a custody plan that works too. If it's not a good day I will still be carting washing about later this week and court beckons. Please let it be the former....

The Party

If you can grade the enjoyability level of a small boys party by the amount of sweatiness, and stickiness achieved, then I'd say tonight was a huge success! Ooooh was he sweaty!?

It often feels quite odd having a party at a venue other than home, I feel a bit 'once removed' from it, no preparation, no food to shop for, no worrying about what to eat, drink or do, no stress whatsoever in fact! Tall Girls parties are often at home, but boys need more activity and space than home can provide, and seeing as he was not born during clement weather, a party venue seems the logical choice.

This one was fairly extravagant. He chose it and I know that when we are all living separately we will not be able to afford such extravagance, so I decided that this year, double figures no less, we'd go for it.

Now they say you only get what you pay for and I have to say the service was perfect. We had a member of staff designated to us, Max his name was, and he was the nicest most helpful person you could wish to meet. He was great with all the children and nothing was too much trouble. They played in a massive warehouse type place for an hour, ate for half an hour and then did 'Laser Quest' for the last 45 mins. Max organised them into teams and played with them, during one round it was all of the children against him, he was amazing. At one point he said to me that he didn't know how people coped with being parents. I think that was after he had run several laps whilst being shot at! I replied that he was making a much better job of it than I was, as he was the one playing with them and I was not. . .

So, seeing as our personal circumstances are so precarious, and not conducive to a party atmosphere, this was just the best place to be. All the children seemed to have a great time apart from one, who felt sick. There's always one!

Mother of two boys stayed the whole time with me. She was there early, even before we arrived and was the last to leave with me. I thanked her for her support at the end, I don't think she will ever realise how much it meant for me to have her there. I know it sounds silly but I felt protected and less exposed.

One other thing will stick in my mind though. As we left the house for the party, I opened my car door and the children got in, my two and one of Small Sprogs friends from school. It was natural that they all got into my car, we had not long got out of it after the school run, and had only gone in to change and have a snack, so when Husband followed us out of the house and said 'Shall we all go in your car?' it took me by surprise. The thought hadn't occurred to me, in fact I thought he was going to the venue straight from work.

'I don't think so' I replied. I really didn't want him that near physically.

'Tall Girl can squeeze in the back' He insisted

'It's too uncomfortable' she quickly retorted and shut her door.

I was surprised. Was she protecting me? Or did she really not want to share the back seat with her brother and friend?! Whichever it was, she wasn't slow in making herself clear. We travelled separately to and from the venue. Now I only have Small Sprogs actual birthday to get through.

Happy Birthday for Saturday Small Sprog

Love from Mummy x

Sweet dreams and nightmares

'Mummy, I had a lovely dream last night' said Small Sprog sleepily as he teetered, wobbly from sleep, down the stairs this morning.

'Did you?' I replied 'What did you dream about?'

'Well, I was a mole and Tall Girl was a hedgehog, and we were in the jungle together and there was a big screen and I said to her do you want to play and she said.......'

By this time I had forgotten to concentrate.

'That's a lovely dream' I said soothingly when he at last drew breath. 'It's funny' I said 'But I don't think I've ever dreamed I was an animal, I think I am always a person in my dreams'

'You are strange' He said firmly, giving me an odd look, and went on with eating his breakfast.

This evening it is Small Sprogs party and tomorrow it is his birthday. I am looking forward to helping him celebrate, but at the same time not wanting to have to share the time and space with Husband. It is a little like Christmas time again. Actually I am dreading having to be at the party venue tonight with him. We will be the only two adults (apart from the staff at the venue) for a whole 2 and a half hours, with nowhere to hide.

Sometimes things turn out better than you expect. I hope this is one of them.

PS. This morning, just before I left for work I had a lovely text from one of my girl friends saying that she will stay with me for a while at the party tonight. I am blessed with good friends and am very thankful.........

Lunchtime update:

When I returned home from work there was a packet which had arrived for me in the post. Inside was a note from another very good friend, it cheered me up no end, and she had sent me a gift too, something to go with some shoes which I had bought when shopping with her recently.

I am so lucky to have friends who show they care. Thank you x

Next Monday

This coming Monday I have my mediation session with Husband to sort out custody for the children. I am dreading it, really dreading it. Every morning I wake early with all the thoughts and reasoned arguments I have in my head as to why they need to spend the majority of their time with me. I am worried about him having them for a lot of the time, especially Tall Girl on her own for 3 nights. I think his wish to have them is motivated by several things, his wish not to be lonely, his wish to hurt me and an idea that he can look after them if they look after themselves. I still marvel at the fact that he wants to split them up for 3 nights in a week.

I am trying to analyse my motivations about why I want to have them more. It is not loneliness, for I am not frightened of being alone, I have friends,my mum and hopefully will be free to spend time with my SO when they are not with me. I do not want to hurt Husband either.

I hope my motivation for wanting them is because I think it is the best thing for them. I work school hours, can always pick them up and take them to school, can always be there in the school holidays. Together we seem to live a 'normal' existence happily together. I don't put them under pressure, I don't think, I hope.

I think they have enough to cope with by the splitting up of their parents, without the two of them being apart 3 nights every 2 weeks. I don't think that is right for them, but then who knows what he might be able to get away with.

I'm sorry but I need to write this here. I guess there is no use worrying about it until Monday comes, but I just can't help thinking.......

Small Sprogs worries

It is Sunday evening and I am snuggled in bed with Small Sprog. We are both tired and have had a lovely day together which culminated in dancing in the kitchen to very loud music. Now is a moment for quiet time together.

In the dark, lying next to him, I am listening as he describes our new home, a pretend home, one he has never seen or been to. It has a green staircase and the hall has a stone floor. He doesn't like the cold floor or the colour of the stairs. Through a green door is the living room, there is a fire place with a copper chimney breast, he doesn't like the copper. There is a comfy chair and a rug and a big TV. He likes this room, but says it has the feeling of belonging to an old person. In the kitchen there is a shiny cooker and a tumble dryer and a very small TV. I think it is a happy house. In the attic there is a box. 'What is in the box?' I ask.

'Your secrets' He says, you can't look in there. 'But there is another box, my box, where I keep my secrets' He carries on 'And Tall Girl has a box with a mirror in it that you gave to her'

I am entranced at his descriptions, his depth of feeling, his imagination. I can see it all, just as he is describing it. There is a box for worries too, he says. One where you write your worries on some paper, tear it up and put the bits in the box. There is another box for wishes. You write the wishes down and put the paper in the pond. When you pick the paper from the pond the words have floated up to heaven for God to read, then you put the paper back into the wishes box.

He describes to me how the boxes are decorated, his, Tall Girls and mine. I listen carefully, knowing that this conversation is well overdue. He has not been himself of late. I have been away too much and he has bottled up his fears and worries. We all tend to keep him safe from the truth, he doesn't have the full picture. He is worried about the future. He says it is all so confusing.

Tonight I made him a promise that I hope I can keep; I told him we would be happy eventually and that everything would work out fine. I told him to remember two things: To trust me that everything will be ok and that if he wanted to talk to someone, then he should talk to a very lovely lady at his school. I promised him that she would listen and not tell, I know for a fact that that would be the case. I hope I have done enough.

I love him.

We need to move on, for all our sakes.

Weekend stuff

On Saturday I had 2 mornings, as if getting out of bed just once isn't bad enough!!! I'm not great in the morning.

I was awake at 3am to take my SO to the airport and then returned home to bed, being woken the second time by a Small Sprog with and a roaring dinosaur! He often brings his Nintendo into bed in the morning. Getting up the second time in one day wasn't any easier than the first.

This morning the children and I are all in my room again, on various electronic devices. I can't think where they get that from!

Small Sprog is creating a virtual creature to do battle with, I am here, obviously, on my laptop and Tall Girl is playing truly awful music on her new phone, which apparently is the best thing in the world........

Yesterday we went to Tesco to get her a new phone. Before we get there she tells me how she likes a particular phone that all her friends have, but that it seems to break easily. So when we get to the 'phone dept', she points to the said phone and says that is the one she wants.

'You must be joking' I say as she throws a pout my way 'You said it is hopeless, and just look at the price!'

The pout gets more pronounced. If she had been two years old she'd be lying on the floor kicking and screaming!

'Have a look at the others, there must be another one that you like?'

Obviously there wasn't, not one! Why on earth didn't I delegate this job to her father?

I tried to point out that she has just had a birthday and Christmas and a laptop in September and the fact that her existing phone has just decided to die, didn't mean she could have a top of the range phone, just for nothing. End of lecture! The pout continued.

'Well, you'll just have to make do with your old one until it completely gives up' I say determinedly, beginning to walk away.

I noticed a moment of panic in her eyes. I had found her weak spot!

To cut a long story short, we found a medium priced phone that she deemed acceptable. By the time we arrived back to the car she was beaming with excitement! She tore open the box, loaded her Sim and memory card and before we were out of the car park, she was oohing and ahhhing about all its various attributes. It was 'The Best Phone In The World'. Damn I thought, I could have got away with an even cheaper version!

Teenagers!

Best bits?

The lovely Dulwich Divorcee tagged me with a task / meme which is to write about my five best bits of 2009.

I must have at least five, I thought to myself as I looked briefly through last years posts. I know I have had some very heady moments over the last year, though often I have not been able to write about them. Most of these have been with my S.O: Getting to know him; spending time together; our holiday and snatched weekends all of which have culminated in a whole year of best bits.

Those best bits though, have been interspersed with the turmoil of still living here as a family. Feeling a stranger in my own home, and seeing the children attempting to cope with their new reality. It has been an emotional roller coaster of a year, and I had no idea it would flow so smoothly into the next. Nothing much, on the surface seems to have changed. Yet while re reading some of 2009's early entries in order to remember my best bits, I realised I have moved on a little, if only in accepting things I cannot immediately change, being completely certain of what I am doing, and, very strangely, accepting my present circumstances here as a new sort of reality and way of living that although unwanted, I can manage to exist with. Just.

Whilst reading I realised why I don't often look through my posts from last year, particularly the early part of it. It is all too recent. Saying that, it is a new year and I am itching to move on more than ever.

Last week I did manage to make my mediation appointment despite the snow. The mediator, put me at ease, talked me through how things would be and took some of my worries on board. He seemed very sympathetic, but then that is his job.

It seems husband has also been there and agreed to the process. The next step is for the two of us to be in a room together, with the mediator, to thrash out custody arrangements for the children. A date has been set. We have 90 minutes to get through and further appointments if not enough ground is made. I am dreading it. He can bully me and speak over me very well. The mediator is there for a reason. I hope he is good at his job. I have a bottom line regarding arrangements, I know what I want and what I will concede. I hope he has a compromise in mind too.

So all being said and done, a new year does not really mean a new start, not yet, not for me. I have said it before but this time last year I really thought it would all be over, done and dusted. How wrong I was, how glad I am that I didn't know!

So rather than best bits, here are some good things that have come out of the last year; perhaps next year I will post my best bits.

I no longer live in the past.

I am learning how to be thankful.

I am loved.

I have some wonderful friends.

I have the opportunity to be the sociable person I once was.

All in all I have 'found myself', not completely, but enough to realise I didn't like living in the shadows. I am lucky, and one day I will realise my goal.

Snowed in, it makes me cranky!

My washing machine died on Boxing day, I have been carrying around bags of dirty washing to various peoples houses for over a week now and there is no end in sight.

It has snowed so much that everyone has been at home today, everyone. Bum. It was my day off and I had not planned to be snowed in with Husband et al. It had the potential to be a little like Christmas day without the vital alcohol and festive cheer. He doesn't plan to go anywhere tomorrow either.........

In the bath today Small Sprog could be heard shouting at the top of his voice 'Muuuuuuum'

I rushed in, wondering what I'd find.

'Look!' He shrieked 'I've made a lobster!'

He points to a vague array of bubbles

'Lovely' I smile at him, no need for panic then!

'Actually it's turned into more of a crab now' He complained 'You took too long'

Well, if it was a matter of life or death I'd have sprinted, for goodness sake.

Did I wish you all a happy new year?!

The first of the packing

Tonight I took down all the decorations from the tree and the Christmas cards. I know it is not twelfth night yet but now I am home, I am craving change.

I remember last year I couldn't wait to put them away either, yet in my haste I didn't pack them with the usual care. There were no casualties when they emerged this year, thankfully, although I didn't use everything, partly because we had a smaller tree and partly, in a strange subconscious way, because I didn't want to 'taint' them with this 'Last Christmas Together'. As I denuded the tree last year, I thought that it would be our last in this house, how strange that we are all still here.

So tonight, with hope in my heart that these four walls will not see my precious treasures again, I wrapped and folded and repacked in original boxes, all the pretty baubles bought over time, mostly by mum and myself, and decorations made by the children. I have placed them carefully into two large bags and tomorrow will load them into the car and take them to mums, where I will leave them until I move house. Funny really, that I am doing this with things that have little monetary value. Mum keeps nagging me to remove some of the more expensive things that she has bought me over the years. I am working up to that, I can feel that soon I will be able to, but for the time being, my Christmas decorations will be safe until next year, and who knows where we will all be then?

Happy New Year

I have had a lovely relaxing couple of days at home with the children since Boxing day, just the three of us, doing not very much at all. Tomorrow, weather permitting, I shall see my S.O. for a few days. I have been looking forward to it very, very much, yet it is a bitter sweet feeling to be leaving tomorrow, sometimes I feel torn in two...

This will be the first New Year that I have spent away from my children. Obviously, most years they have been in bed at midnight, though last year they were both were old enough to stay up, but it still feels slightly odd to say goodbye tomorrow and not be with them for the passing of the year.

Whilst thinking it over I have remembered the one new year that I did spend with Tall Girl, and indirectly Small Sprog too. It was the Millennium, and we were at a fancy dress party. The theme was The Movies, and Tall Girl, just 3 years old, went as Tinkerbell. I remember, at midnight, sweeping her up in my arms (heavily pregnant with Small Sprog who was due on 17th January) and dancing the first dance of the year 2000 with her. I will never forget that dance, the two of us together, in our own world. She has always been a party animal, and kept going until well after midnight, wings and all...

There is so much to remember at this time of year.

Happy New Year to you all, wherever you are.

Extraordinarily normal

How strange it was to be here, all together, on Christmas day. It was extraordinarily normal, helped by wine consumption I'm sure, but not unpleasant.

Cooking Christmas dinner with Husband was like going back in time, we functioned together like we always did, the children floated about, he called me by the name he always used to call me and I didn't notice until he corrected himself, it was indeed, extraordinarily normal.

It was a little like cooking with my girlfriend two days before. She and I have known each other 13 years, have holidayed together and we have shared each others space so many times before. That was how we were together, Husband and I. And I realised how we had been just that for so long, just old friends. I had no desire to touch him, in necessary moments I moved out of his space, as you would a girl friend, yet we functioned fluently together.

It was interesting to analyse, interesting to remember and know that, if I was older, I would perhaps have settled for that for the rest of my life. Lots of people do. My mother did, some of my friends have. No raging passion, no wanting, no feeling of wholeness or being truly alive, no longing or desire, just an amiable knowledge of someone you have known, a comfortable normality, discovered in a moment of calm.

Yet that is not enough, I knew it long ago and have been given a fleeting moment, by chance, to relive an old normality again. Comfortable yes, but this comfort is not for life, it was just for Christmas! There is so much more to a relationship than half a bottle of wine and some Christmas cheer. So much more.

Yet within it is hope. Hope that one day, when we live separate lives, in separate homes, that we can get on and function in a civilised and even happy way, because no matter what happens, we have two beautiful children, and that is what they deserve.

How was your day?

Reasons to be full of cheer.....

There are some wonderful people in my life and I am so very grateful for them all.

Today I am grateful for my three lovely girlfriends - and their children- who have given me sanctuary these last three days. They have given the children and I far more than that though, their gift of friendship is dear to me and precious indeed. There have been copious amounts of tea drunk, miles of snow covered countryside walked, biscuits made and parcels exchanged. There has been laughter and excitement and offers of shoulders to cry on if needed, there has been food offered and bottles pressed into hands. What more could I need? Yet there is more.

From friends far away I have had e mails, and unexpected presents in the post to make me giggle, both of which arrived at a moment when I most needed them, both offering friendship and company, 'We are always here for you, any time' what more could I ask for? I am blessed.

Tomorrow I am taking Small Sprog and Tall Girl to Mums for the day, all three of them blessings, though not always easy to remember them all as that!! It will be our Christmas together and I know she will make it special, (I hope she will give my stepfather a good talking to before we get there, and hide the strong stuff until after we've gone!) Christmas will come early, Small Sprog is excited to have two Christmases, I will be free of husband for the day, and so I hope I can be myself.

And lastly you, my bloggy friends, who visit and keep in touch and support no matter what. Thank you, what would I do without you?! I know Christmas is not the perfect time for everyone, I am thinking of you all and wishing you all as good a Christmas as you can possibly have.

Merry Christmas

to you

with love from

x

Snow!

Woke to this this morning. A lovely surprise for the children who played until they were wet through over and over again. I was enjoying their delight but secretly hoping that I would not be stranded here for days on end with Husband!

Small Sprog, Tall Girl, the Nit Children and a few 'Hangers On' built this snowman. Later however, somehow or other, he lost his head (the snowman, not Small Sprog, though confusion could be forgiven!) So when we went out to see some other friends this afternoon, the children decided to make him a replacement head. We brought it home in a Sainsburys carrier bag. The head was named Trev. The body remains unnamed!!

I Got the Blues.......

Sometimes I just get blue. Something sets it off and I feel the need to hide away and wait for it to pass. Recently it hasn't happened much, I have been too busy, kept myself busy. Being busy means there is no room for the blues. Being busy is a safety net, a crutch, a coping mechanism. I am not alone often enough to allow myself the indulgence of blueness. It does seem an indulgence.

Yet it is a necessary function, to feel blue.

Today I spent the day alone, I did not rush around, I did not feel the urge to compulsively fill each moment. I had time to just be. And all the feelings and trauma of the year filled my body and found it's way out in tears. A necessary cleansing.

Sometimes the world feels like a stage, we paint on the smile, lift up our chins, and carry on. Even my job encourages this, working with children requires this sort of act and it is not a hardship to smile and be happy with them.

But today I am licking my wounds. It has been a very long time since I have done so, it s way overdue and I don't have enough time to do my laundry properly.

Tomorrow I will smile and enter stage left. It will pass and things will move on.

Hope (a not very Christmassy post!)

Husband has agreed to mediation, thank goodness. Mind you he has just paid his solicitor a HUGE amount of money from our joint account for work done so far, so that may have concentrated his mind!

Tuesday nights he is usually out, but the class he goes to is finished until the new year, so I knew my one night in with the children alone was not going to happen. I was not looking forward to it. Tuesday nights are my brief respite from him here at home.

Anyway, tonight he wanted to 'talk' about custody arrangements. We never talk, but tonight we did. He still wants what he wants, and thinks a court would ok it. I had had half a bottle of wine at this point, so was able to let it wash over me, though I did say what I wanted, and reminded him that mediation is about compromise.

If we go separately to our first appointments with the mediator and they think that one or other of us will not budge from our position, then they will send us straight to court.

I told Husband that I had no desire for court, but if it did go that far, neither what he wanted or what I wanted would be taken into consideration. The court decides what is right for the children, not the adults. This seemed to surprise him. I wonder what his solicitor has told him? Perhaps he is being badly advised?

The wine worked wonders though, and enabled me to tolerate him for the evening. We all sat to eat together, which doesn't happen much now, and the children like it when we do. He even mentioned that he was eager for this all to end now, and that it was time we both made a new start. A year on, you bet it is, for all our sakes! What he said was music to my ears but, in the back of my mind, I know it will be on his terms, both for custody and financially, I can't let that be. I hope he is telling he the truth and not trying to manipulate me. Time will tell......

The Tree and other preparations

Well (one) of the days I was dreading over Christmas has come and gone. It should have been something to look forward to and indeed always has been before and I know will be fun again, but this time, on Saturday evening, decorating the Christmas tree was just something I had to get through. I did. It wasn't that bad in the end, but then often things that you are dreading aren't so bad in reality.

The children and I dressed the tree. My heart wasn't in it and I hope it didn't show. Small Sprog seemed to enjoy it as much as always, he was made for Christmas, and Tall Girl did her bit and flitted around like a baby giraffe on speed! Husband was a presence in the room, watching, commenting, I just had to remind myself that this would be the last time that we would all have to do it together, but then that is what I thought last Christmas.

However, today the three of us spent time at mums. The children decorated our Christmas cake and Small Sprog made chocolate truffles. They both finished writing their Christmas cards, we had carols and lit candles. It was a lovely day of Christmas preparation.

Whilst they were busy I manged to pop out for a bit to see an old friend. We had a wonderful gossipy hour, I was so excited to see her I was shaking! I am blessed, have loads to be thankful for, am taking things a day at a time.

Another Classic from Small Sprog...

This evening Small Sprog, Tall Girl and I were stuck on the M4 while trying to get to a Christmas event. We were quiet excited but prepared for lots of traffic, consequently we traveled with a large bag containing electronic games, a flask and some food, Mince Pies, Pringles, Chocolate biscuits (kindly donated) and some Clementines (just so as to look a little healthy!). Most of this was for Small Sprog, honestly!

We also had the radio on, Chris Evans on the 'All request Friday' programme. I quite like listening to him on a Friday night, and the people who ring in and say what they are doing for the weekend. This evening, whilst we were stuck in a four lane jam, he had a very chatty woman speaking on his show. When he had finished talking to her he commented on air, saying 'She was nice'.

Small Sprog piped up from the seat next to me 'Of course she was' He said

'What do you mean, of course she was?' I said surprised

'Well she's a lady, she's bound to be nice' He exclaimed 'Women are caring'

I was quite taken aback. Sometimes he shocks me with the contents of his head! Then he continued 'I'm just a bit confused'

I gave him a look. 'What about?'

He had a serious look on his face 'I haven't discovered the bit about how you get them to do all the work yet' He states

My jaw dropped. For once I was speechless!

Shopping

We had a lovely afternoon Christmas shopping, just Tall Girl and me after school on Monday. Small Sprog had gone for tea with one of his many girl friends, he hates shopping, so it was a good opportunity for the two of us to shop in peace.We managed to get some more things for Small Sprogs stocking and a few ideas for my mum. We also bought another present.

Tall Girl and Small Sprog always buy something for me and their dad at Christmas. I help them shop for Husband and, Tall Girl goes with him, at the last minute, to get something for me. This year she was worried I wouldn't want to help her get her dad something. How sad. I reassured her that I would gladly help her, after all it is for her benefit too, it would be sad if they had nothing to give. I wanted to help her enjoy the giving.

For a few weeks now she has been wondering what to get. I suggested she listen out for clues in conversations, but she is a bit young for that yet. Then, last weekend I overheard him telling her about a DVD he wanted. You and Small Sprog can go halves on it, I whispered to them later. They both agreed.

We bought the DVD during our shopping trip, she was pleased she could get something he wanted and will wrap it with Small Sprogs help later in the week. For me though, it felt very strange to shop with him in mind. I was oddly detached, it felt a little like buying something for an elderly aunt that one sees once a year, or an acquaintance that you don't particularly get on with.

Silent night....

.......well, almost anyway, because I've nearly lost my voice! It's a bit of a Brucey really (bonus), because I am over the cold and all the feeling poorly, and now, all of a sudden someones put me on mute! The children are most concerned. Gosh, am I usually SO very loud?! Small Sprog asked if he could clear the table tonight and get the washing out of the machine, it was all very surreal. "Are you sure you are alright mummy?" They chorused as I whispered instructions for bedtime. Small Sprog had a very worried look on his face as I squeaked his story out and then, halfway through Tall Girl offered to take over. She wasn't even buried in Facebook! If only I had known before. The way to get perfectly behaved children is to appear ill! All the times I have felt really poorly, but have had no obvious symptoms, I have had no sympathy at all. Now I am all squeaky, they are positively angels!

With any luck I will not get my voice back until the weekend. Having a loud voice is a tool of the trade when you work in a school, I wonder who I can get to phone in sick for me?!

Marking time

A year ago this weekend my dishwasher broke down. The fact suddenly struck me today. It is a strange thing to remember, but then it is not that event that has stayed in my mind, but what I did on the Monday following.

Isn't it funny how some days just stay with you, momentous occasions, some small and some life changing, especially when they fall on certain days, or at certain times of the year, like Christmas for example, or New Year. I can remember what I did on New Years Eve years ago, last year, the millennium, good ones, bad ones, all because it happens at a significant time every year. Like our children growing before our eyes, these events mark time.

Tomorrow is a special day. I know exactly what I did on the same day last year, the place, the time, the feeling. I am very lucky indeed to still be able to remember it fondly.

Even though this last year has been chaotic, there has been one beautiful constant in it all - well more than one, if you include my two lovely children- and I am thankful and grateful every minute of the day.

Twaaaannngggggg!

No, it's not to get my Revenge! I have just, probably unwisely, purchased one of these for Small Sprog for Christmas.

I have always tried to avoid buying guns for him, though I have to admit to a water pistol purchase a couple of summers ago, but somehow, that didn't seem to count. Has he been deprived do you think? I just have a 'thing' about glorifying the whole idea of shooting and killing. But then I am a girl, and have realised over the years, that boys will turn anything into a gun, if they don't actually have a toy one. Any stick, cardboard tube, coat hanger, bamboo cane, finger, anything in fact, that is not spherical can be 'imagined' into a gun.

So, this year when someone bought him a spud gun he was thrilled. His first real weapon! He loved it, and every potato in the house had holes in. But then he went to play with his best friend who had one of the items pictured here, The Elastic Band Gun, he raved about its specifications and waxed lyrical about its potential! For him this was it, this was SO much better than a spud gun, especially when aimed at the neighbours cat, which, of course I was extremely cross about!

Anyway, I am having trouble knowing what to buy him this year, especially as I have to think of ideas for items for other relatives to buy for him. Often not just thinking, but buying too -how does that happen exactly?- So I have grabbed the bull by the horns and bought it. He is a boy after all, and I have learnt and accepted that they are a totally different race altogether, I know he will be pleased. Luckily we live in a 'cat hating' neighbourhood and the ones that do live close, scarper on first contact!

I wonder how many injuries I will sustain?!

Today I received a letter in the post from the Family Mediation Service. It is a last ditch attempt to solve custody without going to court. The solicitor arranged it and I have been waiting for a week now to speak to them. I rang as soon as I opened the letter and they can see me in the first week of January. Obviously they have to see both of us. Separately first, to see if there is 'room' for mediation and compromise, and then together to 'thrash it out'. I am more than willing to try it and have high hopes, my appointment is booked. However I can't do it single handed, Husband has to agree to go too. They have given him until the 17th December to make his appointment. If he does not make one, mine will be cancelled and then to court we will go. All I can do is hope.

Facebook

At my daughters request I have relaunched my Facebook account. She is my only friend! She has thrown a snowball at me, and we have had an electronic chat regarding who should go and fetch the hot drinks and biscuits (of which there are only four left because she had eaten most of them earlier!) It is fun and I feel trusted that she wants me to be able to see her page, though I'm not sure if that will last! She is washing her hair now, we discussed it on 'chat'!

After she had gone I scrolled down her page. One entry stood out, it said: Fed up coz mum and dad won't stop arguing. Sad, and not entirely true, it is mostly a strained silence. Perhaps that is what she means. I left a one word comment - sorry-. At least, like me, she has a place to vent.

PS. I have just had a message from her, it says

- OK about the arguing -

I am counting my blessings.

Boxing Day

This could turn out to be a rant, but it is not really mean to be.

This week Husband asked Tall Girl if she wanted to see her Grandma on Boxing day. Tall Girl had told me her reply, she certainly didn't want to go. I gave her a look but I was not surprised! I knew how she felt. For the last 3 or 4 years we have visited Grandma on Boxing day as she has not wanted to travel over Christmas. It has become one of those traditions, which, to be very uncharitable, we could all have done without! However I did say to Tall Girl that I hoped no one would abandon me in my old age at Christmas. I mean, no matter how much of a duty it is, it still should be done. She is old, and will not see any other family over Christmas if Husband doesn't go.

None of us ever did want to go. Grandma has never been a hands on sort of Grandma. When the children were little it took them a while to realise that my mum was a hands on Granny, who would play and read to them as much as they liked but that Grandma was different. When she said she wanted to 'see' the children, that is what she wanted, to just see them, not play or talk to them particularly. Eventually they understood this, and when we visited we took toys and things to play with, quietly...

I spoke (yes, sometimes, where the children are concerned, we can actually have a relatively normal conversation) to Husband about the trip last night. "Tall Girl said she didn't want to go, so I thought we'd leave it this year, it's never much fun and it is Tall Girls Christmas too" He said.

Leave it?! I wanted to shout! Every bloody year we've been, none of us ever wanted to go, and it was our Christmas then too! Obviously I didn't say this out loud! I did give him a veiled lecture about duty and being lonely at Christmas, but he doesn't have much of a relationship with his mother either, nor a sense of duty I fear, so I think it fell on deaf ears.

I remember leaving her house Boxing day last year and thinking, (with glee!) that it would be the last time that I would ever visit her again. A good friend reminded me there is a silver lining to every cloud, it made me laugh at the time! I am by no means a saint, not in any shape or form, we have had our disagreements over the years. I fully acknowledge that a Christmas visit is never a pleasant visit, but she is old, and it is Christmas. I hope no one forgets me at Christmas when I am old.

The Memory Maker

This was in my mail this morning. It was sent from here, a blogger who I've not met before but who found me. In days like these, small kindnesses mean so much. Thank you Rob-bear.

Despite feeling lost, this weekend was not as bad as I'd feared. Things often aren't though are they, but that knowledge doesn't always help?

Sunday was as successful as Saturday. The children and I had a peaceful morning, even though Husband did join us at the breakfast table. By 11.30 we were on the road and the day went beautifully to plan. Loads of time for Small Sprog to enjoy the hands on stuff at the Science Museum, and then a beautiful tea with one of my oldest friends. By the time we arrived home it was Small Sprogs bedtime, he was exhausted. We had all enjoyed our day (though his excitedness had caused some interesting behaviour!) and I had survived the weekend almost Husband free, despite his being constantly at home.

Today is the first day of advent, though I'm not particularly religious, I do enjoy its regularity, predictability, and its rhythms. Yesterday Tall Girl announced that she was looking forward to Christmas this year. Gosh, at least she is not worried about it being 'normal' as I am. She says she is looking forward to buying people gifts. Gosh, at last the message of giving being better than receiving, has sunk in! She is growing up.

I, on the other hand, am trying hard to make everything special, without showing that circumstances are miles away from how they should be. For a couple of days now, advent calendars have been primed and ready to go, some present buying has occurred and I am falling into the festive spirit by default.

Husband and his family have never really been the sort of people who have celebrated Christmas in a big way. His sister and her husband tend to hide away until it's all over and Husband tends to think about it the day before, moaning about the build up and the festivities before hand with annoying regularity and breathing a sigh of relief when it is all over. So it has always been my task, and indeed pleasure, to perform the rituals and traditions that my mum passed down to me. The making of cakes with a stir and a wish. Making festive decorations and food. Decorating the house, finding festive things to do, singing Christmas songs and reading Christmassy stories. It has always been part of our family Christmas.

This year it is harder, and I am itching to forge new traditions for the three of us, ones that will become part of our memories of Christmas together, when Husbands dark cloud has departed. But as always I am impatient, I must wait, sit it out until the time comes. I will still be their 'memory maker' as Saz says , it will just take time.