17 October 2012

Friends.






Most mornings, even when my little one is at Nursery school, when I could be getting on with my writing work, or enjoying time without any children for the first time in years, I meet a mate for a cuppa.

It could be construed as a complete waste of time and I'm forever moaning about how little gets done at home, but, honestly, is it?  We chat about every day things, everything and nothing, just for an hour or so and then we get on with our day.

It can be very frustrating with two little ones - she has two girls amost the same age as my two boys - they are all firm friends - and we are able to air tantrums - hers / mine/ theirs - and turn it all into a laugh.  Such things can be otherwise traumatising, take their toll and affect us for quite a while after they've passed.

It is very healing, is what I'm saying. 

Lately, my ex-husband has been one of the subjects and it has been an enormous help to complain about discuss his failings as a father outside of my present relationship, although that can't be escaped entirely.  Yet we all have issues from time to time, so this is definitely a two way street. .

My friend and our ritual came about by accident.  We knew each other through Sarah, someone we're both still close to and, when after dropping our eldest kids off at school, would both wander off in the direction of the shops and get chatting, as you do.

They say the more you talk, the more you have to say, so our chats ended up over sit-downs and enjoyable cuppas in the Co-op cafe, rather than standing around outside it for 45 minutes!

There's no end of a subject that's not fodder and other mums we know come and go, but we are steadfast in our avoidance of housework for just that little bit longer.

Girlfriends have held me together over the years, particularly since my marriage breakdown, but before that, they have always been my life blood.  Living away from family has created a need for like minded company through the good times too and as I get older, so my friendships age as well.

Debbie and I were neighbours growing up - that's nigh on 40 years we've been friends.  She married young and while I was working in London or travelling the world, she was stuck at home with a (now Ex) husband away in the Royal Navy and two young children.  The tables have now truly turned and it's me on the other end of those postcards.  [Grrr!].

Others are in Jersey and New Zealand (roughly 30 years standing), Australia, Essex and Hampshire (25 years), plus those who've read her dating exploits will already have heard of my friend Sheila, who has been around seemingly forever, but during these last few years has really come into her own, guiding me back towards my old self and helping out in every conceivable way, with me rarely having to ask.

Considering her journey to us takes a good two hours, this is no mean feat and I worry that I won't ever be able to repay her.  But she reminds me of the times when I have helped her, travelled to her and supported her and it's taken as a matter of course that this is what women do.  And, naturally, we do.

My other friends say the same and I am honoured to be blessed with mutually respectful relationships that have seen our fair share of ups and downs all round.

Considering the intimacies shared between us all, a split can yield an enormously painful and devastating impact, something those of us who have regrettably experienced it can testify to.  And yet this is something we could share and try to get over with our other girlfriends.  (My heart still occasionally aches for two women I used to know, more so than for any man).

It's important to have people around you who know who you really are - before you became a wife / mum and might have lost yourself for a while.  Indeed, it is they who will help renew you.

So even though my friend locally and I didn't know each other pre-kids, nor the other mums we mix with, as all our children get a little more hands-off and we spend that bit more time over a relaxing coffee, the women behind the motherhood are quietly emerging and this is pure joy.

Surely, there is nothing wrong with that?  Sooner or later, we'll all be heading back to the workplace and this precious time will be lost.  I, for one, will be too.

Happy Birthday Claire!

Who are your girlfriends?

3 October 2012

A MAD Imposter.

There is an Award Ceremony each year, presenting prizes in the Mum and Dad blogging arena.  To those in the know it's called the MADS.

It is run by the lady who started the Bloggers' Tots100, Sally Wonder Woman Whittle, a fellow single mum.

It was a truly awesome event, which I very nearly didn't attend, because it didn't seem I really had a right to be there.

I felt like an imposter.  Having been nominated in the early rounds in the 'Inspiring' category, my little blog never made it to the finals.

Tickets for this top notch, fancy 'do' are much coveted and not for sale, but there are some available to win.

Which is how I ended up going.  By fluke.

I was dreading it though.  It was tempting to repeatedly watch my own 'Nobody is a Nobody' Vlog, recorded for those feeling nervous about going to the BritmumsLive conference in June.  Yet, there, at least we'd all bought our tickets and our places were paid for.

Here, if my fabulous boyfriend hadn't insisted on me going, bought me THAT dress and paid for the plush Hotel room, with me not having 'earned' my place, it would definitely have been too daunting.



THAT dress!


Not being a Social Media addict exhaustive enthusiast can give rise to everyone else looking very chummy.  Naturally high about a night out in itself, finalists were also feted by sponsors.  Some were given exquisite outfits and loaned jewellery, plus appointments for professional hair and make up were abounding over Twitter.

It  all adds to the intimidation, although you have to feel sorry for the poor 'Travel' category ones for having to endure a prior sunny evening's party aboard one of those posh yachts, don't you just?!

The best I could manage was tweeting a half hearted joke in a taxi on my way there about possibly winning an Award for the 'Best Boots,' because I'd bagged some great ones at the end of last year and had them on. 

Then there was a breakthrough: ''u do realise we all feel the same - now come show us your fabby boots xx''

A reply from Elaine Colliar Mortgage Free in Three.                  

And I knew I'd be OK.

Our paths hadn't ever crossed before - and they haven't since.  We never actually met, but I was grateful for that teensy bit of encouragement.

It's difficult walking into a room full of strangers, but before I'd even got that far, I'd forgotten that it's possible to feel you know people that you truly don't and I committed the fatal faux-pas of rubbing the very pregnant belly of Susan K Mann in the lift on my way to change.

I'm sorry, Susan. I looked for you to apologise to you personally, but you managed to elude me, deliberately or not!  I was horrified when I remembered that all our contact has been impersonal.  So here's my apology now.  It won't happen again.  Er, it haunts me.

She was very gracious, by the way.  And was stunning.  Everybody looked unbelievably beautiful.  All had gone to town with their appearance and I was proud to be among such crazy, friendly and outgoing, (mostly) warm, wonderful folk.

Ruth from Dorky Mum took me under her wing and Sarah from Grenglish was the most enlightening company for the entire evening, which eventually ended with these two at the bar around 2am.  That's not bad for an outsider. 



Sarah - a perfectly 'bad' influence.


But, most importantly, I had something to contribute after all.  Having had the privilege to meet the scrumptious Myleene Klass - who made a point of saying Hello to each and every table and the famously fabulous Sue Atkins, also a TV regular, who happened to be sat on ours, I was able to offer them some stuff no-one else did.

Both have recently been shocked to find themselves single mums and, despite being clever, capable, gorgeous women, they are unsurprisingly and accordingly devastated.  Their eyes widened when they'd routinely, politely and innocently inquired about the name of my blog and their transparently genuine interest was touching. 

I told them about the groundbreaking Single Mums' Stories series I ran and soon hope to continue, so as well as sympathy, gave them solace and solidarity and, among the giggles, hope.

Perhaps, it was impossible not to have a good time.  Perhaps there's a time and a place for everyone.

So just because you feel like a saddo, it doesn't necessarily make you one.  

A very big thank you to Sally Wonder Woman Whittle for an #incredible occasion - you see there's simply no stopping some single mums - and many massive, heartfelt Congratulations to all the winners (and (no) losers) of the MADS.  

There's a ''Storify' HERE  the morning after the night before, with highlights, photos and quotes. 



Photo




‎MAD Blog Awards‎