Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts

Monday, 1 March 2021

Bairns and Blethers - A Good Old Catch Up

 Well, world, what in the heck happened?



One day I catch myself saying to Dave: "I wish something would happen, you know?  Something that just makes the world stop for a bit.  I'm so done with the relentless-ness of it all and just want it all to stop"


And the next - it did.


Sometimes I do feel like I am connected to this wee old planet in a bit of a spiritual way (ooky spooky!) and well, most times I do really just feel like a bit of a spaceman floating around waiting for something to happen or tell me where to go.


And sometimes I feel absolutely driven, like I am desperately feeling like I need to fulfil my purpose RIGHT NOW, which is kind of how I am feeling just now.



Covid has been a bit of a crazy ride, and as we come up to the wierdest anniversary of anything ever - like, ever - I feel a bit like I have ridden the greatest rollercoaster in my whole life and now I have to get off and go home back to the boring mundane.


I'm not ashamed to say, I have quite enjoyed being locked down.  I mean, okay, it has been a bit shit for the kids; my oldest basically got chucked out of p7 and into high school with the shittest goodbye ever, my youngest has had to start school in pandemic conditions and I think I might have gained about 2 stone because I have comfort eaten the fuck out of it, but otherwise, it's been fine, really.

Middle boy has been better than he has ever been and has come on so much- any of the regular societal pressures he has felt over the years has completely gone and school is now much more manageable for him.  The weight of all of that being taken off has changed our family considerably.  The crazy merry-go-round has actually stopped, which is nothing short of miraculous.  It may even have given us some actual formative real chance of getting somewhere with this.



Myself and Dave are keyworkers in the third sector and our jobs have catapulted our careers further in a shorter space of time than any of us could have imagined.  It is absolutely mind-blowing compared to last year where we are now, and for that I am eternally grateful.  It feels like a mad dream.

By all accounts, I certainly don't ever want to downplay anything that has happened in the world or the horrible, awful, terrible hardships anyone has been through in the last year; not at all.  Working in the third sector (and in things like emergency provision for basic needs like food and clothing), I know life is so tough on so many and in so many horrible conditions all over the world.

But personally, for me, for us, for our wee family, in this wee dilapidated cottage which is going to suck our souls dry (or leave us dying of frostbite or in an electrical fire) for once...for once....FOR ONCE....the world isn't shitting right on our laps for a change.

And it feels good.

It feels good to be able to put food on the table without panicking.  We are travelling a lot less, so less wear on the cars, which meant come MOT time, we weren't completely destroyed.  We are paying a lot less for fuel, so aren't constantly running on empty.  We have been able to address some real pressing issues in the house like basic furniture needs, like buying the kids a bed and bedding.  We have been able to buy gifts at Christmas without sheer panic.

I keep waiting for the bolt to shut across the door, when whatever cosmic being has let us free from our usual crock of shit life realises that we got out, but it hasn't happened just yet.


While the rest of the world is desperate to get back to 'normal', here's me in a corner saying, "please, not quite yet.  There's still so much to do".


I mean, I've written it down now, so I have totally jinxed it, but it has been so nice to just have this break.


And if all I end up with is this little memoir to look back on, well, I'm glad it happened and now I know it can happen - so watch out world, here I come.

Tuesday, 23 April 2019

Banana Pancakes

My goodness, it has been a while since I have been here.  Terrible excuse, but I have been really busy, honest!!!

I am Project Co-ordinator at the moment for The Under 12's Project: you can check out the awesome work we all do here: https://www.rainbowhousedundee.org.uk

I started a Food Larder and Freecycle there, which has taken off ENORMOUSLY in the last few months and the whole project has been 18 months of pure challenge coupled with some of the most sickening and mind-numbing stress of my life!

Pair this with the volunteering I have been doing with local charity https://www.togsfortotsdundee.org doing their social media, dropping in to do bits and bobs when I can and trying to formulate endless plans, fundraising etc....

...plus 3 kids....3 dogs (whoops, how ON EARTH did that happen?!)






Yup...three hooligans and three kids too - how DO I fit it all in?

Honestly?  I have no idea.

I am shattered.

Life is so very extremely busy at the moment. I miss the library - it seems a lifetime away, yet at the same time it feels like I could just step right back in (and man, I really want to A LOT of the time.  WHat I wouldn't give for some peace at the desk sometimes, the ability to take out bags full of books that I had time to read....what was I thinking giving that up?!?)

At the moment I have kicked my own ass for the last 18 months doing this crazy crazy job which demands a lot from me and now this is me trying to claw my way back into a life I am comfortable living...

...well...

...not too comfortable.


That would be boring, eh?

Sunday, 20 November 2016

Noro very good weekend

It's been a week.

What started with Tom asking what death felt like before vomming all over the couch has ended with myself, Owen, Ethan and Dave having the worst bout of Norovirus we've ever encountered.

Here's what I have learned this week:


  • We need more bedsheets
  • We need new loo seats
  • I need to clean toilets more often
  • Having an upstairs bathroom is great
  • Having a bathroom where the sink and loo are close together is a fucking lifesaver.
  • Children are better at bouncing back from illness than adults
  • My kids can basically look after themselves when they need to
  • Cold water is amazing
  • Tea and toast after Noro is basically better than tea and toast after having a baby.


Ha!  Indeed...You really do not!


I have never been so ill in my whole life.

It's really kicked my ass.

And as per usual, after a week of cleaning up after the kids, it's yours truly who ended up with the worst bout of it.

Highlights of the week have included:


  • Dave catching two handfuls of sick from Tom
  • Owen sicking down my back
  • Poor Ethan having some truly awful poopy accidents five times in a row after he 'thought it was just a fart'
  • Me giving sage advice to Ethan about 'maybe not trusting a fart at this stage in the game' while he agreed, 'no, we shouldn't'
  • Owen not being able to trust his farts either
  • Hysterically laughing with Dave as he deals with poopy baby on the couch at 3 in the morning while I deal with the whole puke/shit-fest going on upstairs
  • Me heroically going to work after what will now be known as 'The Night of Hell' while poor Dave puked his guts up with baby and Ethan at home while Tom cheerfully went to school
  • Me coming home and laughing with everyone about how awesome my immune system is..
  • ...only to come home from picking up Tom and basically go through my own awful 'Night From Hell Mark 2: The Revenge of Noro'.
  • Cracking my nose on the toilet lid which came crashing down on me as I puked violently into the bowl while trying to work out which end I would like to be over the toilet. I now have a black eye and possibly a broken nose.
  • Spending the night on the couch with the dog who kept running away every time I moved to go to the toilet (approximately every 5 mins for about 12 hours) then being greeted like a hero upon my return.  Which is not as nice as it sounds when you feel like crap and just don't want any kind of interaction.
Just...yeah...

We are all thankfully feeling a lot better than we were.  Everyone is bloody starving now, so one of us will have to draw straws to see who wants to re-enter being an adult today and go and get supplies.

Dave is basically a hero - I have no idea how he managed at home with two kids while feeling like that.

I basically haven't spoken to him for two days because me and the loo have spent so much time getting to know each other (we are getting a new non-collapsing toilet seat).

And, I found out yesterday, ironically, it was world Toilet Day.

Someone is taking the piss.


Wednesday, 2 November 2016

November

November is upon us suddenly.




I almost can't believe it.

Next week America chooses the path of least...well...least...and the world has the potential to end.

This last couple of months has been an especially trying time at home.

And not.

We have settled into the house a lot more now - things are very gradually starting to take shape and I think we have finally gotten over the initial 'euphoria' of a new place to live and also kind of get our heads around the fact that we are staying put.

There's been a lot of decorating, work and general other shenanigans to deal with; when you have three children things are...complicated, to say the least!

Especially when one of those children is a year old and basically into absolutely everything.

Owen is great - he's the kid we really wanted and the kid we never expected too.  He's a blonde bombshell and is just adorable in basically every way (which is lucky because he's basically also destroyed anything we've ever done in this house in every way. Let's just say we need to decorate again before we finished decorating).

The other two boys have finally settled into routine and school life and have made friends (even if Tom is still clinging on for dear life to the idea that he's never going to - he has no confidence, just like his mum).

I finally registered as a childminder and have been having total panic about it ever since, too scared to advertise in case someone actually wants to take me up on it and I have to be responsible for one more kid.  Which I'm not really worried about.  But I am.

Stupid.

Plus the usual head stuff: Do the other parents think I'm some kind of incompetent?  They must do when they see me just trying to handle my own two crazy, loud, over-sensitive kids (are they over-sensitive or is this normal?  Oh god, what is normal?)  They must see the outside of my house and wonder what kind of a shit-show I'm running!? Surely?  Ahrgh.

Yeesh, I just feel like a terrible person all the time.  I wish there was something I could do to boost my confidence; but then I guess it's this stuff that pushes me on.  I'm never one to shy away from a challenge.

I'm doing some volunteering two nights a week too, and it's kind of great.  There's a real sense of accomplishment and I just enjoy hoping that we make a wee difference somewhere to someone who might otherwise be having a shitty time of it.

So, yeah.

No real news. Nothing exciting as of yet.

Just...head down, keep going!


Saturday, 7 March 2015

Small Talk



I'm knackered.

My belly feels huge.

The husband is out at work and then out on his brother's stag do.

I've exhausted all of the good programmes on Netflix.

I (finally) ordered a new phone today and await it with anticipation.

We are waiting to hear back on whether the house we like can be ours forever.

The kids are too full of beans.

I have been crap at blogging lately, but I have far too many things to do just now.

I finished the boys' memory quilts today (pics to follow once I get new phone!)

I got myself a book from the library to read this weekend, but it turns out its not so good, so once again, I'm bookless.

I think I'm going to spend tonight making a patchwork quilt instead.

Sometimes I think getting the random stuff out helps.

I miss my friends.

I still can't think of a name for the baby and fear he shall be forever nameless.

Tomorrow will be our first family day for a long time.

I still miss my dog more than anything ever in the whole world.

The kids found what looks like a human bone in the woods today - they are calling it a 'dinosaur bone'. Hmm...

Ethan's favourite nursery teacher is leaving next week and I think he's pretty upset about it and we are getting it back in bad behaviour, which is testing, to say the least.

I have a super-wiggly baby today.  It's lovely.

Sometimes I feel like the only person in the whole wide world, which is scary and exciting at the same time.  I'm getting really used to being alone and I don't know if that's a good thing. I feel it is because it used to really upset me, but now I feel strong because of it.

I hate how uncertain our future is at the moment.  I can't wait until about 6 months time when the dust has settled and I can hopefully see everything clearly.  Just now it all feels like such a muddle. But I know it will work out. I am so impatient.

I'm really glad our neighbour is away - peace and quiet for a change.

I can't wait for summer.

Thomas has lost and broken 2 red noses in the space of 2 days.

I have to craft a glass tissue paper decorated candle holder for craft class on Monday, but I have neither glass, or tissue paper.  Excellent.




Saturday, 30 August 2014

Beginnings and Endings


How time flies - these guys grow too fast!

Today, my family is on the cusp of change.

Dave starts a new job on Monday, and while we have all lived quite happily with his regular 9 - 5 job, he works in the care sector, of which 9 - 5 jobs are thin on the ground.

However, like anyone who has to embrace change in order to progress, he has made the decision to move on and to absorb whatever the impact might be in order to improve.

Not an easy decision at all.

To leave his comfort zone, to leave a job that fits well around our family life, that doesn't eat into family time or see him spend any due amount of time away from the kids, in pursuit of something which may or may not work out to be a better fit, is a tough call.


What if it doesn't work out?
What if we never see each other?
What if we end up working opposite shift patterns?
What if it's not as challenging as he hopes it will be?
What if he's left something good, for something not so good?
What if?
What if?
What if?

Retrospect aside, change is a good thing.  Scary, but necessary.  We are no strangers to change; indeed, having moved house 6 times in the last 6 years, we are more than used to adapting to ever-developing situations.

We've dealt with a lot over the years. We ourselves have constantly adapted to survive, and have gotten quite good at knowing what works.

I don't know if it's getting any easier though.

I always think about things deeply as they end.  There are so many thing in life that we never get to say goodbye to - so when you realise that you might be doing something for the last time, I suppose it makes it more poignant. More reflective.

If I know I'm going to be doing something for the very last time, I try to say goodbye to it, no matter how insignificant it seems at the time.

It's so easy to just live your life and to have everything whipped out from under your feet very suddenly, without even being aware that it's happening.

  One day you are stressed, tired and hoping that your child will just go to sleep.  You've both been up since 5a.m and as a result the day has dragged, a grumpy child and mama in tow.  You put him to bed and he begs to hear that song that he loves as he goes to sleep - he wants you to sing it.  It's the last thing you want to do - you just want to shut off and forget the world. You begrudgingly, half-assedly sing it, angry with him for dragging out bed time when you have so many things to do with what little energy you have left.

One day you realise, that you haven't sung that song for two years - it's been so long since your baby asked you to sing him to sleep.  You never even noticed it happening.  You try to think back to the last time you sang that song, his favourite song to him.  You can't remember - you are sure you sang it with love and joy; you loved singing him to sleep...

It's always so easy to acknowledge beginnings with trepidation, hesitation, worry.  It's normal to be anxious as you spread out into the unknown, not knowing where it's going to take you. It is more difficult to acknowledge and notice the little endings - harder even to say to yourself 'this is the last time'. Don't be scared of endings - they are simply the start of another new journey.

It is good to acknowledge change when you can, and to embrace the beginnings and endings when you can.

Today i am aware of change.  I am aware of the impact it has on us all, and I am trying to hold on to the smaller changes within our lives, which although are in no way seismic, do happen sometimes without us realising it. Who knows where we will all be at this time next year? It's all very exciting.

You never know when it's going to be the last time.  But you can always try to make it a good time.


Wednesday, 2 April 2014

I never thought I'd say this, but...


Tom and I (and bump)'s fancy photo-shoot
About 4 years ago, when I was pregnant with Ethan and Thomas was only about 18 months old, I responded to a journalist's request on a parenting forum.  She wanted to speak to mothers under the age of 25 who had children and chose to stay at home with them rather than return to the workplace.  She wanted to examine the 'Rise of Generation Y' and why young, smart women would choose to be at home instead of pursuing a career.

It was an awesome experience - I was flown down to London for the day and given a swish makeover and a fancy photo-shoot, before appearing with some other young, hip mothers on the cover of  The Times Magazine.

The request kind of hit home for me - here I was, 18 months into my post-graduate year with a baby on my hip and another on the way, and a career wasn't so much an option for me as a closed door.

Hiding my bump (kinda) under my gown!
I felt like I'd had no other option than to be at home with my kids.  Having graduated with my undergraduate degree while six months pregnant, I was well aware that any career pathways were closed to me until future notice.  Dave was still finishing university himself, and all the job experience I'd had, albeit a lot, had amounted to cleaning tables, pulling pints and changing bed linen.

Dave finally graduates and I'm not pregnant for a change! Hooray!
This, coupled with and MA in English wasn't really going to cut it in the real world.  Recession had just bitten and the country was flooded with thousands of people who had just lost their jobs and had 20 years of experience and training under their belts.

Any job interviews I'd had always amounted to the same end question; 'what do you plan to do with the children while you work?'
And I had no idea what my answer to that question was.

Perhaps, somewhat foolishly, we had started our family a lot earlier than we should have.  In fact, in hindsight, it really wasn't a great idea.  It was daft.  And we were crazy.  But, like anything we do, we made it work.

Tom and I do some reading!
After making some degree of peace with what I'll always believe to be the female sacrifice, I'd recently committed myself to being a full-time mummy.

If I couldn't afford to pay someone else to look after my child while I worked, then I would do it myself, and I'd make a damn good job of it too.

I would love to say I felt like this, like, any of the time...
Trying to make peace with the fact that I had to stay at home with my kids through getting pregnant at a stupid time in my life was the reason that I answered that journo call.  I needed to justify to myself and the naysayers what I was doing.

The postpartum depression I experienced after having Thomas had been grueling and borne, in retrospect, out of doing just the thing that I had just committed to doing; being the domestic home-body who stayed at home changing bums and washing clothes, while my loving husband and father of said sprog enjoyed adult company in an intellectually stimulating environment while making his own money.

Can you tell I'm still bitter about it?

What I told that journalist about what I wanted to do in the end was true; I did want the best for my children. And in their formative years, yes, I did want to be there in person.  I knew how damn important it is for children to have their mother around in the very early years.

In having no job, indeed, I was very lucky that I had that as an option and didn't have to return to the workplace within months.

But what I did instead actually nearly killed me.

Me doing my mummy thang
Anne Perkins for the Guardian today reported on Lily Allen's return to work after she proclaimed so passionately that she wanted to retire from her own successful career in order to care for her kids.

Lily took to the headlines to announce it all - so sure that she was about to fade into the distance with two wee babies slung on her back.  Domestic bliss called and she ran into it's open arms.

Lily doing her mummy thang too
But now she's back, back to work and back to doing what she does best; saying it as it is.

Speaking to Hello magazine she said:

“I didn’t get ... I mean, I’m not bored by my children. Actually, I am, you know, the oldest one has only just started talking now. So it was really hard because you’re spending all day, every day, with two human beings that can’t communicate back to you.  And for someone like me, when my whole existence is about communicating and response and reaction, it was quite frustrating. I felt like I needed to get out and do something else with my time.”

Now I am not a massive Lily fan - I certainly don't agree with everything she says.  In fact, when she announced that she would love nothing better than to stay at home all day and look after her kids and her man, I laughed hysterically a wee bit.  And then I cried.  And then I laughed a bit more.
Have you got enough time for this?
By the time she said she was taking to the hills with her babes in her arms, I had been there, I had done that and I was clawing my own way back out of it.

That statement that she gave Hello magazine is the most sensible thing I have heard her say in years.

It's exactly how I felt as a mother of two small children at home.

There were great times, of course.  We had long days in the house playing games and making cakes and going to the park.  We spent days in our pyjamas when one of us was ill, we had long days in the garden and we had days where we watched a lot  of T.V.

I loved my time at home with the kids, in the main, but the truth of the matter is, I was just not cut out to be a stay-at-home mum.

Terrible two-some!
And whatever decision I thought I'd made by having it printed in a national magazine, complete with photos for all of my friends and family to see, just didn't stick.

I'm not ashamed (now) to say, I seriously struggled as a mum of two under 3.

I was not one of those mothers who took everything in their stride and got on with things, I really, seriously wanted to be out at work, out at university doing a Masters, out of the house to do anything.  My brain felt underused and I felt trapped. 

I know it was crazy postpartum me talking, but I genuinely thought that it was the end of my life.  I couldn't forsee a different time where it wouldn't be this way.

There were days when the four walls just closed in, closer and closer, suffocating me alongside two screaming, relentless children, who took everything from me, even when I had nothing left to give.

In fact, I probably would have loved to have been someone in the same position as Lily Allen, because unlike her, I didn't have the option of slipping back into an already-made career when the going got tough.

Lily with her fancy Silvercross pram - I had a Silvercross too, but not as nice as this one!
I'd stupidly gone about it the hard way, and I felt ashamed and useless and unwanted.  I felt judged.  While my peers had gone and re-trained and found new niches in the world, I was the only one who'd gone down the domestic route.

The world for new mothers, especially those younger mothers whose communities don't exist in the same way as they did for our own mothers ten years ago, or even older mothers now who have their own community and support systems formed through years of work, is tough.

In fact, it is tough for every woman in her very own way.

We are bombarded with information from the moment we find out we are pregnant.

We need to eat the right things, wear the most fashionable clothes, buy the latest baby gadgets and then, out of nowhere, there's this whole uber-cool 1950's housewife thing where we are supposed to be smart and ready with the home-cooked meals three times a day and also know all about early years care and development.

Everyone is happy to tell us what do and what we should be doing.  And very good at pointing out when we don't get it right.

Society is very good at judging mothers, but not so good at giving them a leg up, as Anne Perkins so rightly observes:

'But the value of the first months and the importance of the role of the parent-with-care – yes, that is still mostly the mother – is only one of a whole load of messages that bombard them. It is not even the loudest nor bossiest in the post-partum environment. When women have to launch protests in order to assert the right to breastfeed in public, it is crashingly obvious that ours is a society that values neither babies nor parenthood. Boarding school-educated politicians talk about the importance of parenting and make policy that treats every adult as a taxpaying economic unit. Or a scrounger. They threaten a law criminalising emotional neglect, but fail to provide the education and support to stop it happening.'

I'm glad to say that now I know that there is light at the end of the tunnel.  Now I can see possibility and finally, a pretty bright future ahead for myself intellectually.

Me and Ethan having a laugh at home recently - I'm a lot happier with a work/home balance!
Out of the fug of day-to-day childcare grind I can see how easily confused I was - I knew that this was the best for my kids, but I struggled with the fact that I was intellectually bored and that no amount of creative or clever parenting was going to cure it.  

I'm so much happier now, and this reflects on my ability to parent.

There's a difference between being so emotionally and physically exhausted and feeling the burn after mental stimulation, that looking after small children doesn't quite touch.  I hadn't quite worked out what I was going to be, and I think I lost a part of that along the way.

It's taken a long time to work out how I feel.

When I did that interview for that article I was so sure that that was how my life was going to go; that I was this new generation of super mum who didn't care about 'having it all'.  That we were the women who had gone the full circle and got to the point where we didn't need a career to make us happy.

Well, I don't need a career. But I really did need a lot more support when my children were young to stay in the home to provide them with what they needed.  To make me feel valued.  And I did need more validation for my choices.  Where that should have come from will remain arbitrary.  I do however think that there should be more general, properly funded, community support for new mums that smacks them in the face and helps them out more.

And I really want to thank Lily for saying it how it is for so many of us who are scared to state what we feel.

I'm very glad that I gave those years to my children.

I am equally glad not be in the same place now.









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