Geek - who me?

Well, actually it seems so. I know I work in IT but I really am as technical as a jam jar.

As I mentioned in an earlier post I was give some geeky gifts at Christmas and I love them!

I love the iPad, I have been blogging more because I simply love the way my fingers dance on the keys as I type. Strictly has nothing on my fingers, well maybe Strictly is more sparkly.

But, I have been inseparable from my kindle. I didn't know I wanted one, in fact I didn't want one; I'd been adamant that real books were for me.

Real, tangible books who's pages I could turn; with ink I can smell and covers that look lovely on my bookcase....

How could a grey piece of plastic replace that?

Well, it has. It's more subtle than a book, less shiny than the iPad so can be surreptitiously be read while little girl plays oblivious to the fact that I am not 100% engaged in what she is doing (I know, I know bad mummy).

It's easier to fit in my handbag, I don't have to wait until the postie delivers my latest Amazon order and like a true addict I am chain-reading;
I'm now on my sixth book since Christmas and this isn't even a sponsored post.


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What happens when you're not there...

There are many joys to being a single mum, not sharing your child is both a joy and chore, sharing your child is also a joy and a chore.

No, I haven't lost my marbles; I know I wrote that twice and I mean it in two different ways.

The first, in that having someone there to share the happy moments and actually keeping all that love to yourself.

The second, well that's the sharing that means I came home tonight to a quiet house, a warm toddler free bath and had to share my fish fingers with no-one. It's the sharing that allows me to go on hot dates with a certain young man I know...

But, the second is also the sharing that has me wondering what my daughter is up to; that believes she is inevitably better behaved for daddy than for me; and wonders if she has more fun without me, especially with moments like this that I miss:










But you know what?

She loves me most of all, he misses out on more than I do and I get to have a bit of the best of both worlds.

(But I will check in her empty room on my way to bed.)

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A complete balls up?

Christmas is well and truly over.

I know this not just because I am back to work tomorrow but my sitting room seems to have grown a few feet with the removal of Christmas.

I have even wrestled christmas into the loft. And I mean wrestled.

I have a feeling I only won because Christmas left it's balls behind




(there is always something)

But, before Christmas is condemned to a distant memory I must write a little aid memoir:

Make sure that Father Christmas buys presents that are the right size. Ensure that if he sees reindeer socks hanging up that he checks whether are little girls knee high socks or grown ups ankle socks.

Also, father Christmas should be easily able to locate his snack and not have to stumble around the room trying to locate it because you, I mean HE has forgotten where it is.

Lastly, dear father Christmas you do not need to use so much paper and Sellotape, these little presents are not wrapped for show but for speedy tearing of paper and rapid present revealing.

Oh, and mummies, make sure you pack the actual stocking when you go to Grandma's for Christmas.

Hey ho Father Christmas, we forgive you it was Isobel's first stocking after all.


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Night night leg

I am typing this very quietly as I have been told that Isobel's leg is asleep.

We must leave it alone and be very quiet because it is sleeping.

Which also means it needs to carried everywhere.

Apparently it will wake up in the morning.


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Welcome 2011

Come in, put your feet up. Trifle?

We really are pleased to see you but we are feeling a little introspective and subdued.










Give us a month or six and I'm sure we will be perkier.

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A mixed bag

It is that time when everyone is summing up their year in preparation for the coming one.

To be honest 2010 has passed me by in much of a blur, often quite literally. Depression will do that.

But here are some of the things that I have done:

Bought Clementine and started Glampervan;
Started training to coach people in their personal and professional impact;
Made lots of skirts;
Started a wonderful new romance.

I suppose that makes the year worth living.

Isobel has continued to grow up so rapidly I'm scared I may miss it. She is chatty beyond belief and likes to spend her day singing. Although I am not convinced that her version of Frere Jaques this evening were really the last words I wanted to hear from her in 2010:

Frere Jaques
Dormez-vous
Poo poo head
Wee wee on his face
Glitter in his eyes.

Oh well, as much as I still fail to be firm enough to turn her into a good girl, I love her dearly, and, while I'll give the poo and wee a miss, she will always be glitter in my eye.


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So there it was a merry Christmas

And it was a very merry Christmas.

Well, if you discount the fact that each and every member of the family took it turns to head to the out of ours gp service at the hospital. I think they were under the illusion that you get loyalty points or something and that somehow the turkey may be cheaper next year, leaving more money for presents.

This certainly was the year for presents, well for me anyway. I mean I was given amazing gifts I didn't even know I wanted. I am in love with a kind,e I would have scoffed at the idea of a few days ago....

And you can see this is being typed on an iPad... Well I am supposed to share that with Isobel and actually as I am typing through a haze of finger prints I can honestly say I have shared. (the only reason I am allowed to type on it now is because she isn't here - suggestions for apps gratefully received)

There was a ring... No not that kind, don't get ahead of yourselves.

Bath stuff and champagne and chocs... I could go on but let's just say I was spoiled.

That was me, little girl?

She has a beautiful baby doll, a new pram, a garage and a fire engine. Well balanced in terms of gender related gifts I feel - oh and very like pink, hooray!

As any beautiful little girl (notice I didn't use the word good) would expect, she had boxfulls of presents.

Thank you to everyone who has made our Christmas so special, especially the hand bell ringers and yes that includes you bell no. 8.

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Spot the new decorations

Many of my decorations I have had for years but I feel there will be something new every year now.

Mummy Christmas Fail

It so nearly could have been a failure on a catastrophic level.

The magic of Christmas - 'poof' gone in a puff of pantomime smoke.

I say nearly.

There have been a few small fails, like the handmade stocking from last year being visible around the house all year until December when in vanished without a trace. Perhaps it was snaffled by an elf.









But the big one, the one that would have been an absolute disaster; the one that would have meant broken hearts and shattered dreams quicker than you could drop a bauble?

Well that starts with a post I didn't write.

Isobel watches a lot more telly than would probably be approved off, for me as she plays and sings and dances and is happy I really do not care. Another Mummy fail is that all her favourite programmes are on commercial channels sprinkled rather liberally with adverts; adverts Isobel also ways viewed as an annoying interruption to her schedule.

Until the end of November.

In November Isobel graduated to being impressionable and from somewhere she finally got the idea that all these things were available. Just in time for Christmas no less.

Ignoring this sudden exploration of ALL that is available, I blithly went ahead and bought little girl's Christmas presents.

Now, thanks to the wonders of Peppa Pig one of these I have got spot on.

The other, yes she has only asked for two things, is nothing like the gift I bought.

Isobel has not deviated from her desire. Santa popped into nursery yesterday, leaving his Reindeer on the roof of course, but he only gave Isobel a book.

Little girl return home excited by the visit, but along with Reindeer on the roof her top comment was the lack of the gift she really wanted.

A BIG MUMMY FAIL - my daughter's first proper gift request was not to be granted.

So, I did what all good mother's would. Went to the toy shop at 9am and using the very lasy of my pennies (really, i'm not joking here,) bought the appropriate gift (well my version of her choice - i.e. wooden not plastic).

and I bought a Santa sack for £1 in Poundland to replace the AWOL one.

Mummy Christmas success

Hooray! At last a simple proof of my practical nature and a hint of good mumminess:










Yes I ordered a sledge before the snow arrived!

Much easier than a pushchair and a definite way to win friends!

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The only way to travel

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Hello my old friend

Dear Blog,

I feel I have been neglecting you of late, taking it for granted that you will always be there for me to return to should the mood strike.

Well, it does strike but somehow I don't get to you. For example there are many things I didn't tell you:

Like that when I sprained my ankle recently, Isobel had me getting down with the kids, it wasn't just hopping I had to do; according to Isobel is more a case of 'Hip-hop mummy, hip-hop' or 'come on mummy hip'. Probably for the only time in my life I was hip!

The there are the many ways Isobel will beckon me from her boudoir. One evening it escalated to Mummy, mummy, mummy ... to the tune of We will, we will rock you (I cannot write it without the we will, we will ...)

And then there is Isobel's first Christmas play but maybe I can build up to a whole post about that.

Here's to the festive season, to eating to much, drinking WAY too much and loving lots.

Lots of love,

as always

your absentee blogger

Take on me, take me on

At four o'clock this morning I had a bit of an 'aha' moment.

Nope Morton Harket didn't appear at the foot of my bed, I always preferred Pal anyway...

It was simply this:

It's ok to be happy, it's very much allowed even for me.


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As snug as a....

Ladybird?






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The Princess and the Pea

Ok so Isobel isn’t a princess: ‘ I not a princess mummy, I Isobel F******’

And there isn’t a pea under mattress but I do seem to have been unable to tempt her away from her cot and into her ‘big girls bed’. Her ‘I not a baby mummy’ has been met with ‘so why do you sleep in a bay’s cot’ but this, it seems is just logic and we all know how easily dismissed logic can be.

I bought her a beautiful Iron day bed, picturing her lounging on it as she gets older.








I bought grobag bed linen so I could zip her in all cosy, hopefully replicating the snuggliness of her sleeping bags.

We have read stories on this bed every night since May; she has even volunteered to sleep in it, only to appear at the door five minutes later asking for her cot.

On the last visit to Grandma’s Isobel slept in a big girls bed; at Daddy’s he took down the travel cot and seemingly had no trouble tempting her into her bed.

Me, I thought I’d do that child centred laissez faire parenting thing of believing that maybe Isobel could choose for herself, when she was ready…

The cot came down yesterday evening.

Isobel was coaxed to sleep in her big girls bed by an attentive mummy answering all spurious requests that my ‘not a princess’ issued from upstairs…

The result?

Isobel slept in my bed with me.






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Heartbroken

No, my new romance hasn't yet been short lived, but it seems to be the last straw for another relationship in my life.

PD and I may have broken up two years ago, but our lives have been very much entangled as we have supported each other emotionally and financially he has more than just contributed to his daughter, he has afforded me flexibility.

So maybe I shouldn't even have looked for another guy, maybe I should I have ensured I was fully independent first, but I just didn't think like that.

And now the timing of this breath of fresh air and hope and happiness in my life, seems to have overnight blown away any semblance of a friendship with PD.

And that makes me sad, very sad.

My timing couldn't have been worse, and I can't help feeling perhaps I should wait until both PD and I are in a better place.

And that too would make me sad, very sad.


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Moving on?

As a single mum I think the most difficult thing I have had to do is dating.

I use 'have had to' very loosely because obviously I could quite simply stay single and fill my life with my daughter and girls nights out - actually that has served me pretty well.

Girlfriends urged me to sign up to Internet dating sites to meet men and probably most importantly get over PD.

Well Internet dating didn't really go to well, my heart wasn't in it and I never bothered to go on any dates - far too scary!

But as luck would have it, someone I already knew turned into a prospect, a surprising one, one I kind of fought because it seemed unlikely.

Now actually going on dates is relatively easy; PD has Isobel fairly regularly so great. Plenty of lead up, frock pondering and anticipation time.

But it's other things that are tricky.

When do you introduce new man to little girl, we are pretty much a package?

Overnight stays, I'm the kind of girl who runs out at 5am at the best of times, let alone when I have a daughter returning home at any minute.

When is it serious enough to tell PD; let's face it, it his little girl who will spending time with someone else.

How do I maintain the precious family dynamic that PD and I have battled to create?

When is the right time for that overnight stay to be allowed even though there is a possibility of three in a bed - not in a kinky way!

And most importantly, how do I not only prevent my heart from being broken but keep Isobel's intact too?

So far, for all this angst it seems to be worth it. I'm definitely smiling.


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OMG

Actually the title of this post is somewhat understated, it should read:

OH MY F*ING GOD!

You remember the little chap in Aint Half Hot Mum who used to shake his head going 'Goodness Gracious Me' well to fully appreciate the enormity of what I am describing he would have shaken his head so much it would have fallen off.

Isobel has just had the biggest tantrum I have ever seen, there is no scale big enough to measure it on.

She has just screamed for about 20 minutes.

Yes I do know that that is not good for health. Don't you think I would have stopped her if I could, well short of giving in of course.

What was it over? She wanted to go to bed in my bed; not her cot, not her big-girls-bed (a whole other post) but my bed.

I did everything: I walked away, I reasoned with her (yes I know but you have to try), I held her, I gave her space...

When she was ready I cuddled her and while she sobbed I talked about Friday in the way she had to me earlier:

Friday, Isobel will go to nursery and have her cornflakes. She'll play with her friends and have lunch. But, she won't have a sleep at nursery; mummy will come and pick her up and drive her in the car. Isobel will sleep in the car. Then we will go on the ferryboat and do some colouring. Then we will drive some more to go to Grandma's house and Grandma will give us a cuddle. Grandpa will come home from work and Jack will be on his bed. We will give Hayley her birthday present....

' *sob* I will have a bath *sob* at Grandmas while mummy has a shower *sob*'

And so ended the biggest tantrum n the world. Now she is in her cot reading Charlie Cook to her dinosaur.

I, on the other hand, am drinking a very nice, single malt in a measure that is directly proportional the size of the tantrum.

The family that hops together stays together

In the last 24 hours my daughter has:

Made me 'hop like a bunny' on the Platform at Richmond station;

Smile cheesily in a cafe (maybe it wasn't just Isobel who made me smile there);

And lay in bed with me as we coughed in harmony.

Well actually it went like this:

Me: Oh dear you have caught my cough

Isobel: No, mummy. I have my cough, you have your cough.

Isobel: Isobel's cough is LIKE mummy's cough.

Is it any wonder I find my self often having to be the baby while Isobel plays mummy.

Pinch and a punch

It's the first of November, October is over already - just in case you hadn't noticed.

October was quite a good month for me; it was a month for reconnected with peeps, for getting back in the swing of the social thing.

I have seen friends I hadn't seen for over a year; friends who have even published a book I didn't even know about, and this is someone I count amongst my dearest! Peeps have got married, pregnant and I have just been out of the loop. Too busy being a fruit loop I guess.

I'd stopped hosting lunches, stopped answering my phone and have even got out of the habit of answering emails (which reminds me I must reply as soon as I post this).

This month I have definitely been socially active and believe me, once I get past the anxiety, it feels good.

Let's face it any month that starts with a girly child free outing with my bestest friend has to be good.

Especially when it even ends with a hot date...