Perhaps

As I drove along the tree lined road to work this morning, I realised how green and lush everything is looking now. I love the lime green colours of the fresh new leaves in the spring time and I realised how, living further into the city now, it was all passing me by this year, the loveliness of it. I am missing the green, I am missing picking spring flowers from my garden to bring indoors and smell, I am missing the sound of bird song.

Constantly I contemplate when and where I might be able to at last buy a house of my own. All I really want to do is be in the countryside, somewhere small and comfortable, where I can see the setting sun on a summer evening across open fields.

A dream may be. Impractical at the moment, very much so. Ever to be realised, who knows?

Yet, as I'm driving and thinking things through, I remembered a comment made on an earlier post of mine. Someone pointed out how I had once craved love and passion and to actually feel something and I have that now. I am lucky.

So maybe, if you want things badly enough, set your heart on them, push towards a goal, maybe, just maybe you can get there in the end. Time will tell, yet this time, it seems even more impossible.

Out to lunch!

I arrived at Mums a little late today. She met me at the front door with her coat on "Come on" she said, "We're going out for lunch!"( Not even a 'Hello'!)

It was 2pm, I dutifully jumped into her car, she didn't want to miss last orders!

Now it was very sweet and kind of her to take me for lunch, and also very fortuitous that I had not already eaten, because I do so like my food! However, I had spent so much time sorting out my car on the phone before leaving, that I hadn't managed to fit in lunch, nor even a second breakfast!

Anyway, off she drove me, into the very beautiful Cotswold's.

We went VERY quickly, in fact, if I had mistakenly eaten before hand, I'm sure I would have had an empty stomach again by the time we had reached the top of Cleeve Hill. She drives like the wind, steers like she's reliving a very tricky stage on Marrio Kart and breaks at the last possible minute. We arrived at the desired destination almost before we'd left! Phew, I needed a drink, never mind lunch. She however emerged from the car as cool as a cucumber and proceeded to usher me in to the Corner Cupboard, which is not as it sounds, but a very small and typical country pub.

We had a lovely meal, velvety Steak and Ale Pie with chips and peas, lots of French mustard and a good swig of vinegar on my chips, mmmm! However my enjoyment of the meal was slightly marred by the thought of whether I would manage to keep it in my stomach for the whole of the return journey back down the hill, but then she mentioned pud...

"You have to have a pud" She insisted "and they all come with ice cream, you have to try it"

"I'm not really bothered about the ice cream, and I'm very full" I replied, hoping not to sound ungrateful. "If I ask for the ice cream, do you want mine?"

She nodded in approval. Goodness, I thought!

While waiting for puds we started to chat about my stepfather;

"It's a shame he couldn't come" I say

"Oh, he could have" She replied

"Well, why didn't he?" I ask puzzled

"I told him you might want to talk" She hissed, as if someone would hear.

"Oh" I said, hoping I hadn't disappointed by not divulging any more woes to her, I had told her about the car accident on the phone, I mean as if that wasn't enough after everything else?!

"So will you have to cook for him later?"

"No, he's eaten"

"You've left him a sandwich?"

"No he ate out"

"Oh, that's nice, where did he go?"

"The Kings Arms"

"Lovely, who with?"

"Oh no, he was by himself"

"You made him go by himself?!"

"But I thought you might want to talk"

How could she?!

Anyway, the puds came and we waded through the gateaux. Both of us were rather full and wondered if we may just not quite manage it all. I looked at Mums plate. "I don't think I can manage the rest" She says defeated by the huge portion of White Chocolate and Blueberry Gateaux.

"You don't want my ice cream then?"

"Oh yes, I can manage that" She said delighted "It won't take up any room at all!"

You've got to love her!

Here but not, if you know what I mean?

I've not been about much recently, not read any blogs or written much myself. I have missed both. Partly I have not written because some of the stuff I would normally write about I'm just fed up with thinking about. Most of that is finance related.

Last week though, I found out that I am to loose hours at work. Only 3, but when you work part-time, that's a fair bit. So, forgive me for not writing much, or visiting much. Most of my spare time spent on the computer is used either looking for jobs or filling in applications.

I am not feeling positive, as you might have gathered. I am not doing the job I'd love, but then who is? I don't know how to go about changing things, though I have managed so much change over the last year or so, yet I don't seem to have the same clarity of thought to help change my working position.

Feeling a bit sorry for myself really! Indulge me for a while?

On top of all this, I received a letter in the post from the mediator suggesting that we wait 2 more years before a financial settlement take place to allow husband to keep the house and me to get a better paid job! I am tired of it all. I can't wait another 2 years. I will have to settle for less than the children and I are entitled to or wait and wait and then what? Why does he get the best deal? Even more fed up now! Sorry.

Sundays

Will I ever get used to the loneliness of Sundays? I am not adjusting well. It looms before me, I meet it with dread.

Sunday is a family day. Most of my friends have families, a 'proper' family. They do 'stuff' on weekends.

It's not weekends in their entirety that I dread, Saturdays are not a problem, children come to play on Saturdays, friends call round, the shops are open, there are jobs to do. But then Sunday happens...

Even the children feel it. Friends are busy doing family stuff. I know we are a family, but the rest of my family are not close by, I feel isolated and a little lost.

My first instinct is to run away, make arrangements, go to visit. But most people are busy. Then I persuade myself to sit it out. I can't run every time, we are three and we can have good times. We can, I know, we have today, but it took a long time to let go of the feeling of being alone, of being different, of trying too hard. It's over now, for a while. The week is full of work and school and children's clubs and classes. We come together at the end and we are happy, we are a family, it feels 'normal'. Why can't I do that on a Sunday?

So today I wandered, indecisively thinking of several things to do at once. Tall Girl wanted to go to Grannies, but I was determined not to run, not this time. We got it together in the end. You can see the fruits of our day in the photo(ignore the date on it, don't know how to change it!). We cooked and iced and got sticky and messy and felt a bit sick! We had fun. We were a family, just us three. I can do it, we can do it. I just need some more practice. I guess there will be plenty of that.

This was Small Sprogs cake. He was proud of his icing skills.

The picture on the cake is of our house, with my car outside.

He says he chose to ice this because it is a 'happy house'.

I cherished the words.

The futures bright, dinner is orange!

Tall Girl has been having cookery lessons at school this last term. She enjoys cooking and is quite good at it. Cookery lessons are on a Wednesday or a Friday, so sometimes I don't get to eat the fruits of her labours, because she stays with her Dad every other Wednesday or Friday night. However I am always interested in how well she's done, so when I know she's not coming home I text her and ask how it went...

A few weeks ago she was making curry. I texted her on the bus home; it was a very well travelled curry!

'How does it look?' I wrote

'Orange!' She replied

The following week she made sweet and sour chicken. We were going to eat it for our evening meal and we had a guest to dinner, so I texted her on the bus, just to see if I needed a hasty trip to the supermarket.

'How does it look?' I wrote

'Orange!' She replied.

It was!

Today she made pizza. I saw her get off the bus as I waited in the car at the traffic lights. She didn't see us. Once the lights were green we turned down the road she had disappeared down minutes before. We could see her in the distance...we wound down the windows of the car, slowed to a curb crawling speed and before she could turn around we shouted and sang her name out of the window whilst beeping the horn! She is 13. Anything I do embarrasses her, even breathing! Her face was a picture, her friend laughing.

When I arrived home, leaving her to walk with her friend, my phone chirruped. She'd texted me to say she was going to her friends house. Oh no! Maybe I had gone a step too far? I enquired via the normal method but she was fine.

'Don't forget you have dinner with you' I texted

She sent back a 'wink'

'By the way' I type 'What colour is it?'

'Orange, hee hee' came back the reply.

I love my Tall Girl

Playing the game...

We went to mediation this week. I have been dreading it, the final one and so much at stake. This was our last chance to agree on a settlement without going to court. We reached an impasse. Husband says he might as well go to court and I think he would rather pay the solicitors than me. He is insisting he can't afford to buy me out, he is still offering me less than half. That offer was on the table well over six months ago, nothing has changed. I don't know what to do

There is a chance he is bluffing. I need to wait, play the game...

Yet I had hoped that today would be the end of it. That today I could walk away and know where I was financially, plan my future, our future and finally, finally, be divorced. Because not until after the finances are settled, can I get that little bit of paper that says I'm free. It wasn't until I realised today that we are still so far from that moment, that I really realised how important it is for me to have that closure.

He will always be in my life, because we have two lovely children and we need to be civil and see each other for their sakes, but to be free and independent, even though I will be totally broke, that is something I really want badly. If we go to court it could be another year coming. Can I really let that happen?

A big sigh

"Where is Tall Girl?" asks Small Sprog for about the fifth time this evening, "When is she coming home?"

"Not until tomorrow" I sigh "She's at Daddy's tonight"

He puts out his bottom lip. No matter how the much they argue and bicker, they do love each other very much. No matter how many times I hear one or other of them screaming at the top of their voice "I hate you!" I know that deep down the love is so much greater.

Poor Small Sprog. It hasn't really dawned on him yet that Tall Girl gets to visit Daddy's house every other Wednesday night, but that he is not included. I don't like it. In a way I would rather that they both went, even though I do not want to be without them, so that they would be together and not feel that one was having something the other was not. It hasn't dawned upon Small Sprog that that is the routine yet because the last month or so has had 2 weeks school holidays in it and we have not really got into a proper routine of every other Wednesday, until now.

In bed tonight, when he asked for her again, I stole myself and asked "Would you like to go to daddy's every other Wednesday too, with your sister?"

"No" was the instant reply "I want to be with you"

I am flattered and glad and pleased, yet it is sad. And if he had said yes, Husband would have taken a lot of persuading. I have already tried to arrange it for Small Sprog, thinking he would want to, it fell on deaf ears. It all just makes me want to do a big sigh.

And as I sit here writing into the night, I can hear Small Sprog gently snoring and I know how much I love him and that he is here and that he is mine...

The message

The sweet pleasure

That moment when you read the words

The little flutter in your chest

The intake of breath

Heart stopping

"I love you"

It works every time.

My Guitar Hero!

This morning Small Sprog has his first ever gig! He, in his guitar group, are giving a small concert to parents at school. He is excited and nervous.

My Guitar Hero!

Go Small Sprog!

PS As he ate his breakfast earlier he said "This is going to be the biggest moment of my life!"

I guess all Guitar Heroes start somewhere

In the shower

As I put Small Sprog in the shower this morning I noticed a large scratch on his side. "Oh look" I said "what have you been up to?" He hadn't noticed his scratch and was very interested in it!

I left the bathroom, giving instructions to use soap and went to tidy his sisters room.

Not long after, there was a shout from the bathroom. He hasn't mastered turning the shower on and off, so I dashed in to assist. As I wrapped him in his new blue towel he said "My hair is very soft at the moment"

"Is it?" I replied

"Yes" he said "It must be something to do with the scratch on my side"

"How can it have something to do with the scratch on your side?" I laughed

"I think I'm turning into a weir wolf at night!" He said seriously

A Weir Wolf? Sometimes I think he lives in a totally different universe to mine!

A good weekend

I have just had a fantastic weekend, spent with a friend who I have known for a very long time. We used to spend time together years ago, but while I was married it was hard to get to see her. So this weekend we met up, shopped, ate and drank and were merry, it was such a tonic. I know she will never judge me, we have known each other too long and been through too much, for all that sort of thing. I don't think there is anything I couldn't say to her. A true friend indeed.

Anyway, I was itching to tell Mum all about it, so after she texted me this evening I said I'd give her a ring back. The call went something like this:

Me: Hello

Mum: Did you get my text?

Me: Yes, texted you back saying I'd ring you

Mum: I only just texted you

Me: Yes, I know. Did you have a good weekend?

At this point she told me about the concert she'd been to and then tried to bring the conversation to a close.

Me: I had a good weekend...

I was ready to launch into the details, when she said 'Yes thank you' and rang off!

I think it must have been time for Eastenders.

Sometimes I don't know why I bother, really I don't!

Social Pariah

Am I feeling over sensitive or am I becoming ostracised from my 2.4 children friends? Perhaps ostracised is too strong a word?

I have several groups of friends, and one group in particular has always been very close. We met when pregnant with our first babies and have met regularly and kept in touch ever since. However, things seem to have changed, the atmosphere is different, the talk is different, there is an elephant in the room.

We all still chat about the same things, children, school, too much to do and not enough time, ageing parents, blah de blah, all the personal stuff except, except, no one asks me about my relationship. I regard two of these people as close friends, and spent a lot of time with one today. We went through all the usual chat, and unusually she did the lions share of it, not once asking me about my life. I have a good friend calling in tomorrow too, it has been the same with her.

So am I being over sensitive? Are they worried about asking? Or am I just not on their radar now that I am a single mother with a lover. Does my life seem so far removed from theirs that they don't know what to say, are not interested, feel threatened? I know we all lose friends during such times but I really don't want to lose these. I am still me, the same me I always was; though perhaps not the one they used to see, the' settled in a safe relationship with two lovely children' one, the one living a dull life in leafy suburbia?

I listened today to my friend talking about her comfortable life, two children doing well, financially very secure, two holidays booked already for 2010, and thought, yes, maybe I am off their radar now? I thought about mounting bills and making ends meet. Perhaps it is them that are dipping off mine?

Because I am bored!

Now I know that sounds ungrateful but I am really BORED! Perhaps it is because I have been having a ball of late, or perhaps I am not taking my own advice and living for the moment, but right now I'm not in much of a moment!

Tall Girl is bored too, so is Small Sprog, but he is watching TV so that has ameliorated his boredom for now. We have been out today, briefly and we have had fun, but now it just feels really boring! This evening I have suggested a walk, cooking, making things, but all to no avail. What we all crave is company and that is the problem. Everyone else is out having a good time! Yep, absolutely everyone in the whole world! You must know that feeling? You ring your friends and they're out, you text and no one answers, you read peoples blogs and they're off to somewhere warm and sunny, I've even been on my Facebook page, and I have to be pretty bored to entertain that! No one is on Google chat, not even my Mum, even she's having fun somewhere!

Sometimes it does you good to have a good moan!

(Do you know, I really am looking forward to going to sleep tonight!)

What did you do today?

In the park

It is late. Small Sprog has been chastised for whinging on about opening the present he knows is waiting for him at home. He has spent the whole day at his grannys whinging about going home to open it. Even when we sit in the park; in the beautiful warm sunshine, which has been much too long coming this spring, and eat his favourite ice lolly, he is whinging.

"Remember the words of the song" I say to him "About living for today because you never know what's going to happen tomorrow?" We have had this talk before, I want them to learn what it has taken me so long to realise. Living for the moment, enjoying each minute. Although, now I come to think of it, I have not been that good at it over this last week myself. He nods soberly and licks his multicoloured lolly.

As I am saying the words I realise myself how precious that moment is. Both my children with me happily eating ice cream, Mum at my side doing the same. A sunny day, no work, no school, health and happiness. I look at Mum. She has slowed recently, she does too much some days, it takes it out of her, and she worries for me too, I know that doesn't help. She is a precious constant in my life, though we grumble about each other on occasions. One day we will not be us 4, but I can't say that to Small Sprog now as he jolts me out of my melancholy with "Can we go home now!"

Sleepily, in the back of the car, Small Sprog mutters one more thing about his waiting gift before we arrive home. "Do you know what my best present would be?"

"No" I reply, equally weary.

"A happy family"

"Mummy and Daddy together you mean?"

"Yes" says Small Sprog

He will never get that present now. Hoping is a very sad thing on occasions.

Mum has a new phone...

Mum has a new phone. Oh joy. I have been on stand by over the last week or so to sort out the various 'glitches' in usage. No she doesn't have an iPhone, nope, it's just a bog standard £10 phone, but to her, it's a whole new ball game.

To be fair it has been mostly Tall Girl who has been her technical support through most of the journey, but today it was my turn "When I put in 'mum' "she says puzzled, "it reads nun."

"Yes" I reply "That's the predictive text. You know? You just have to scroll down to the other options and you'll find the word you want"

"Oh"

"You know, just like your other phone?"

She looks a bit blank.

"There's 3 letters isn't there, for each number? You can make lots of words from the same keys, like 'home', 'good' and 'gone'."

There was a spark of recognition. Fab I thought, we're getting somewhere. Then she said "Oh yes, I had those words on my old phone too..."

Sometimes she's so cute!

Who knows?

Is there anyone who knows, early in their lives, just how things are going to turn out? Is there anyone who knows what they want to be, where they will go, what they will become? I guess there are some? The Driven, those who force their way through life, or are so gifted that they hardly need to try at all. Yet is it still chance that they make it? Is not every twist and turn of our own lives, not to mention anyone elses whom we come across, a happy accident, a twist of fate, a cruel joke, a miracle? How do we know which way to turn, which path to choose when it really matters? We make choices, rash decisions, go with the flow...

When I was 13 I thought I would be famous! Who doesn't at 13? I thought that when I got to 40 my life would be over. Give me a pill, I thought, what could be worse than getting old, grey, loosing your looks, loosing your marbles? It never really occurred to me to have a plan, well, not for longer than the normal teenage attention span anyway.

So as I find myself at the age when my former self would have had me euthanaised, things are looking a little different. And yet I still make the same mistakes, and am still uncertain...

I'm still here!

We had to dress up at work today. I'm not keen on dressinng up, especially for work. It just seems to be another task to do in what seem to be enlessly busy weeks. Goodness me I sound a bit of a Scrooge, bah humbug, but I guess you will know what I mean? Busy term, loads of changes, hanging on in there through various domestic traumas and then having to think of a costume, assemble it and, wear it to work. Along with Small Sprog too obviously, who also needed a costume, as I work at his school.

So when I finished work today at lunchtime, I held my breath all the way home because the car was running on empty, and I had no wish to stop at the petrol station as a witch, crimped hair and all.

I pulled up outside my lovely new house, which is in a relatively quiet side road, and sat in the car for a while as I texted from my phone. I was so engrossed, that I didn't notice anyone approach until there was a knock on the car window. A very suspicious looking character was speaking to me through the glass, he looked a little disheveled and not all his features seemed in the right place. I felt a little nervous. I realised that I couldn't hear him properly through the closed window and was about to open the car door to talk to him when I thought better of it and opened the window slightly instead whilst pressing the button to automatically lock all the car doors at the same time.

"Can you tell me where Churchill Road is?" He asked pleasantly enough. I thought about it, I am new to this area and wasn't entirely sure but I think I sent him in the right direction.

As I watched him walk off down the street, I silently chastised myself for judging him by his appearance. He was harmless and had been very polite.

It wasn't until I caught a glimpse of myself in the rear view mirror that I realised it ought to have been him who was a little scared. I bet he didn't expect to ask a witch for directions when he got out of bed this morning!

Friday night is disco night!

It was Small Sprogs school disco this evening. He loves the school disco. At school though, in his class, he doesn't have many friends. Most of the boys are very much 'Alpha Males', children with older brothers, from male orientated families. Small Sprog has a big sister, enjoys girls company and hates football. Sometimes I feel sorry for him, I wish he had a good friend, but then I am a girl, looking at the whole thing in a girly sort of way!

So on the way to school this morning I asked him if he was looking forward to going.

'Yes' he smiled

'Are any of your friends going?' I asked

'Think so' he replied

Now, as a girl, I would have already spoken to all my friends about what we were all wearing and where we were going to meet up. He had obviously not had any of those conversations, I worried about him being there without a friend.

'What are you going to do there?' I asked, wanting reassurance from him in a way, that he was going to be alright.

'Gonna have a larf' he replied nonchalantly!

Of course he was! What on earth was I thinking?!

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?