Life Audit

It's the start of a new school year this week. Once the training days (I will be re-educated in CPR and recovery positions by this time tomorrow) are over , the kids will be back and I will have if all goes to plan, a new role as a TA, which I've been tentatively excited about.

I read a couple of blog posts today , initially the lovely
http://plasticrosaries.com/life-audit-september  

but also her inspiration-
http://www.brocantehome.net/life-audit/

A Life Audit - what a brilliant idea.
So here's mine for September 2013. 

TODAY I AM...
...quite frankly in a bit of a tiz. It's back to work tomorrow after just short of 6 weeks off school (I do not get paid for this time as just a lowly TA by the way!).
I am going to miss my time off. The weather's been on the whole, just lovely, and my early morning meetings with 'Frasier' and coffee and a wander to the shop before it gets busy, and just well, having to time to just be on top of the washing and ironing pile for once - it's the freedom I'll miss.
I'm not sure I won't feel like I am having some sort of out of body experience tomorrow when I actually have to concentrate on anything other than what to read on my Kindle in the garden ... 

FEELING...

...trepidatious (is that even a word? ) I have this tendency to want to just be home, safe, I've always been that way, I am amazed I made it through Uni to a job to a husband and family to be quite honest ! The idea of going to work not just tomorrow, but the day after that and the day after that until late October without a day off (the weekends are catch up time, not time off!)
At the same time I should be starting a new TA role this term; I don't yet have my timetable but I have been excited at the prospect; I hope things haven't changed in my absence.

I am also feeling nervous and yet cautiously hopeful. We are hoping to re-jig our finances and  it is FINGERS CROSSED (I can't say that loudly enough) set to happen on 30th September. One more month of stressing and then...well...things should be better.

READING......looking at a first draft by my amazingly talented friend Ian Ayris 
http://www.ianayris.com/

Be warned his stuff isn't politely phrased but he's an amazing writer who has had me in tears (in a good way !) ; highly recommended. And no, he's not paying me ...

While in Tenerife I caught up with an old friend who is thinking of making the  Santiago di Compostela pilgrimage next year and in support I am ..well... reading Tim Moore  

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spanish-Steps-ebook/dp/B003XVYF0O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1378126500&sr=8-1&keywords=spanish+steps

He's my favourite travel writer by, well...miles.

EATING...

...apple crumble. Mum in law brought some cooking apples over and although I am a rubbish dessert cook, I have to say my crumble wasn't too shabby.

While we were away we had many lovely meals out (we chose self catering as although we knew we probably couldn't afford it - and we couldn't!  - we love eating out, and we only ever do that on holiday). A highlight was a lunch at a beachside restaurant  - gorgeous grilled sardines with Canarian potatoes and fabulous sauces. I can't cook that one to my disappointment... but one meal we had was a pork Mexicana. I have managed to replicate that one successfully at less than £5 for four people. Yay me, eh ?

PLANNING ... 

...this is something that teachers do for lessons. I daren't plan ahead, not further than my next group of kids, or payday. Maybe if we get ourselves straight I can do that more?

The nearest I can come to planning is thinking about Girl's departure to Uni on 29 September ...

...but I can't. Not yet.

DREAMING OF...

...a time when money isn't an Issue. And I can treat my family as much as I want. This is on-going.

COVETING & WISHING & DREAMING ... 

...see above.

WORKING ON ... 

...at home - a few cross stitch projects, and still aiming to not be scared of that sewing machine !!!
At work -  I am compiling a dyslexia/phonic handbook with links to a particular piece of software, for my colleagues. This makes me happy.

GRATEFUL FOR ...

...all of the above. My family. And yes, they deserve more from me. But I am trying really, really hard, my lovelies.

Gosh this audit was a good idea !

TOMORROW I WILL BE ... 

Positive. No, really. I will be all Carole King - look up 'Beautiful' - I don't think there's an original version on YouTube but the Tapestry LP means a lot to me.

ON MY TO DO LIST THIS MONTH! 
Getting to payday without going broke!
Supporting Girl as she leaves home for University
Getting a grip back at work without being completely useless

Thanks for reading this far !

Almost Silent Sunday

June 2000

September 2013

Sun, Sea and Stevie

It's late at night and the sky is ink black dark. The Atlantic waves are still crashing onto the volcanic rocks and sands. The air is humid, salty. I can hear Stevie Wonder's  I Wish being played brilliantly live by a trio of young musicians in the adjacent bar to this one. I have a full, cold glass of Cava. My boys are with me. I listen to the ocean and to the music (serendipitously , one of my very favourite tracks) and I wish that this moment would never, ever end. A tear rolls down my cheek. I have to go back to reality tomorrow.

We are on holiday in Tenerife. 


It's a holiday we shouldn't really have booked, as money is tight, but when an unexpectedly high share-save payment matured R said, "Look, we need something to look forward to, it could be our last holiday all together-" (daughter turning 18) "-I can get a free child place for Boy for the last time, let's just do it ! "

So we did.

I am a worrier (you may have noticed). Worrying was my dark cloud over my holiday and for that I am supremely sorry, for my family more than for myself.

But now I have the perspective of home I can feel how happy I really was, under the Canarian sky of almost perfect unbroken azure blue.



The approach to the airport was let's say, a tad scary. We were about to land when - UP! - the pilot aborted the landing and round we went again, to much consternation. Apparently a strong crosswind caught the wing and we weren't guaranteed a safe landing, so we had to try again. So that was nice. 

Anyway- landing safely, by mid afternoon - we're in our apartments - sleek and well furnished. I approve. Our holiday begins. The early mornings ... waking up to look out on a clear sky, and heading off to the little hotel supermarket to buy freshly baked croissants, eaten with fresh coffee and jam. Then down to the pool, quiet and still and the water cold but not too cold to swim in, before all the other holidaymakers emerge.
I rediscovered the joy of the cryptic crossword; I never read a newspaper ordinarily but I suddenly recalled all those hints Dad used to to tell me about when I was little and I used to look at his crossword. I didn't complete one but I will certainly try to do cryptic crosswords again.

And the clarity of thought one gets when almost meditating laying on a sun bed. There is time for thinking, wondering, setting one's head in order  when on holiday. Dragonflies swoop and children play and then it's beer o'clock from the Pool Bar.

And every afternoon at around 4:30. the swifts began to fly, swarms of them; there must have been insects up there, as they seemed to feed on the wing. They never settle, never perch; and I think, I'm like a swift, never really still ;only I can't fly away.

And I swim. I swim a lot. I love the water. And this is in a pool that is outdoors. I can just jump into an outdoor pool and not shiver my bits off.
The upper pool (there are two) is quieter and has a line of rocks that mark a fountain on the other side , when I am swimming in it all I can see are the rocks and the bluest of skies beyond. I float on my back and see how long I can keep my feet above the water. I stay in 'til my fingers start to prune.

At the beach the flag is yellow, which at first I don't think means much; and then I get into the Ocean and ... wooosh. I am knocked from my feet by an Atlantic roller.
Emboldened I wade further into the water; it is waist high (I am not tall) and I feel confident. I see the wave rolling in and think I am ready. I time it - just- as the swell hits and I leap into it and it carries me towards the shore and I am deposited on the sand, bumping along on my behind in a very un-lady like, fill-the-bikini-with-sand fashion.

I go back , and back , and back. More than once I misjudge the swell and on one occasion am unceremoniously dumped under the water; I think I am drowning (I'm not). I have so much sea water in my nasal passage it doesnt stop dripping for hours. And I go back again, and again.
"You're like a little girl out there," says R, watching me with affectionate amusement.

Then there's the evening walks, down to the restaurants all touting for business in the most friendly of fashions. Our favourite was here -
http://eatintenerife.com/martini-restaurante/

There seems to be a vogue for sandcastles now out there ... there were many to see , this is my favourite-

Let's not forget , Tenerife is a volcanic island. Mount Teide is twelve thousand feet about sea level and is active. Up near the summit one can feel the heat through the ground, smell the sulphur. This is how it looks near summit, after dark - 

I am fortunate enough to have a lovely friend who knew me back in my dorky school days, who now lives in Los Cristianos, and we met up, and set the world as we know it to rights over a few Cosmopolitans. Thank you, Jean.

While out there we celebrated our  twentieth wedding anniversary. We had dinner on the beach front , watching the sun set (it sets quickly that far south!) and I was with the people who mean the most to me -

Dear Tenerife; thank you. I Know your landscape may not appeal to everyone - 

but I love it.

I don't know when I'll be back ; but I will back.

In the meantime my head is in a better place than it was when we left just 12 days ago. I can see the chaos I left at home and am ready now to tackle it, to clarify home as well as mind.

Thank you, Tenerife.  

 

The Kindness of Strangers

I am back in the Orthodontic Appointment at Whipps Cross Hospital cycle.

We have been free of hospital appointments for daughter for a long time, both orthodontic and orthopaedic, but now, we're back in the system for Son (fourteen and a bit) . He needs braces, no two ways about it.

There is an element of reduced stress in that it's not entirely new to me at least (although I know Son is uncharacteristically concerned about it all) .

We were seen promptly by a lovely young orthodontist, taken good care of, casts taken, and then sent down to Junction 8 for dental X rays.
We sat there for a while, getting bored , and just as Son was about to switch his 3DS on- as he predicted, he was called for his X ray, so I waved him off on his own ...

Anyway I waited with his next appointment details on an A4 bit of paper in one hand and beta reading a friend's prospective novel on my Kindle in the other.

As I sat there an elderly lady came in, sat on the far side of the pink sofa, and then three women - a nan, a mum & a daughter ( who as it happened had Downs Syndrome) so I thought, ooh , they should sit together so I moved one seat along to the furthest seat on the edge of the sofas.
We sat there for a few minutes in silence then I realised my A4 Next Appointment bit of paper had disappeared suddenly between my seat and the wall !

Son is away having his X-Ray on his teeth at this point. I get on my knees and I'm peering at the tiny gap tp try and see where the paper is. I can just about see it. I try to fish it out with my arm, but can't.

Nana Patient offers her daughter's assistance. "She 's got skinny arms, she'll get it ! "
Her arms weren't much if anything smaller than mine so she doesn't retrieve it.

"Here!" says older lady in the corner. "Try to get it out with this pen - it belongs to them!"

It didn't work.

I get a 2010 copy of Country Life which is the only magazine there, and poke around with that and yes!!! I retrieve something.

"She's GOT IT!" says Mum, all excitedly!
"No," I announce, "But I do have someone's lost orthodontic advice leaflet..."
There is disappointment.

"USE YOUR SANDAL!" says elderly lady in pink.
"But then I might lose it as well and I'll only have one shoe..." I say, and the waiting room , full of strangers , nod and agree.

So then Son returns and is given his dental X-rays and it is time for us to be sent on our way back to the orthodontic department.

The Nana says to my son - and we don't know each other, never spoken til 30 minutes before... 

"Eh Tom- I wouldn't trust those X rays with your Mum , she might lose them down the side of a sofa!"

We all fell about-strangers the lot of of us - and I passed the document wallet to Son to much merriment.

And so passed what would have otherwise been a very dull minutes in a waiting room.
People are lovely, people are funny, strangers are fab, I Like to think that tonight a lady has gone home and told a story of how a nutty mum lost her hospital form and how everyone tried to help her retrieve it.

All these little things X

Up and Down

Now you see there are days - sometimes many, many days in row - that I feel so very low I can't see the wood for the trees.

Some of you may know that historically I have suffered from depression, not treated medically until after my son was born but I believe that it started when I was 17.

The thing about depression is that people even in this enlightened day and age, think it's about just being a bit unhappy. "It's Monday - I'm so depressed!" for example. What really gets me is people who think that having depression is a choice .

Choose to be happy.
Choose to smile.
Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone.
Choose to be positive.
You might not have shoes but there's someone out there with no feet.

Yes, all true.

But.

But.

Do you wear glasses ? Are you say, diabetic ? Do you get sea sickness ?

What if I told you you could positively think your way out of your short sightedness ? Or the non functioning of your pancrveas, or your inner ear messing you about ?

You can't do it. 
I can't either.

I stopped taking the Citalopram some time ago because I wanted to fight this on my own and to be honest, I think I manage pretty well on the whole, given the tightness of money and the stress of having teenage children. I don't tell myself Well Done enough I reckon (no-one else will !) .

Today has been a Good Day. I think that warm sunshine always helps that process. I have made paper plate lion heads in Breakfast Club ; got overly enthusiastic about Prime numbers with my maths group (yes, 73 IS the best number, thank you Dr Sheldon Cooper ! the kids now think I am actually a lunatic) ; heard all about their trip to the local adventure centre (sleepwalking, nudity, incontinence and laser tag - all human life apparently was there !) . In between all the other daily tasks - yes - the ironing is up to date, and the pork chops are looking good for dinner when Mister Champers eventually turns up (the Man With No Mobile has gone to the dentist for an emergency appointment. Oh. Pork chops maybe not such a good dinner choice ...)

Yes; today has been a Good Day. And although it is true that smiling and just plain being nice to people, and genuinely interested in them , is a good way to make yourself feel good, some days, if I'm grey of face and down turned of mouth, it's because I am silently crying. (Sometimes I am actually crying ...sorry!)

But.

Today has been a Good Day.

Bubbles and Bloggers

On Sunday, which was of course Father's Day, I thought a little about my nephew and my nieces.

Due to family circumstances , I haven't seen my elder niece since 1996, never seen my younger, and saw my nephew once, I think about five years ago.

But on Father's Day I thought about my brother, and how he has missed out by not being the person he ought to be, and how the one time I met my nephew we played with bubbles. I had one of those battery operated things that if you pour bubble liquid into it, it will constantly send bubbles into the air, pretty bubbles ... He loved it.

I haven't seen him since and I may never see him again.

Now there are some Blogs that you take to heart more than others and recently I have been reading one by a lady who lost her baby to SIDS earlier this year. 
My own family isn't a stranger to loss; my eldest niece died aged two of heart failure after an op in GOSH on 30 May 1994. I was pregnant at the time. I know that this isnt in any way akin to the loss of Matilda Mae. But I have been thinking of both of them specially as the anniversary has just passed. 

Anyway today I read a related Blog that said Matilda Mae would love to see bubbles. And I thought of J, my never seen nephew again, and the mini bubble machine.

And here's the weird thing. Hubby's off work this week (aaargh!) and wanted window cleaning stuff so I delved under the sink to see if I could find some Windolene.

I didn't find any cleaning fluids but what I did I find at the back of the under sick cupboard (and I wish I had a Smartphone now so I could ad a photo!) instead were... five.. count 'em FIVE long forgotten bottles of unopened  'Rainbow Bubbles'. Bubble blowing liquid in pink and purple and lime green bottles.

So I have taken the first bottle I reached for (and it's bright pink) and after 

almost spilling the lot trying to peel back the foil on top I have blown a satisfying number of bubbles up to Matilda Mae and all the babies just like her.

xxx

Anyway in other news  I know that it is BritMums this weekend and many of my Twitter friends (and I count you, yes you - as such - Pretend Internet Friends - or PIFs as I have come to call you over the years) will be gathering in London to meet each other for the first time.

I've done a couple of Meets like this myself. Ten years ago, the first one was. I was privileged enough to later attend the wedding of two of the wonderful people who were there that night who had never previously met.  To still be friends with others. To later attend a Meet and and be with two people who took the trouble to drive me all the way home ; and who married and fought and died of individual cancers within months of each other.

There are so many warnings we rightly give to our children about  Internet Stranger Danger. Quite right. But my experiences have been nothing but positive. One PIF is now my ' Northern Twin' as we are alike in everything but geography !

Joining Twitter has enriched my on line life. And starting ridiculous diaries like this which have been supported and re-Tweeted by lovely Followers  has been fabulous and for someone with pretty low self esteem, life enhancing.


And I have been thinking about BritMums and all of the lovely clever wonderful talented mum bloggers who will be there. How they will all embrace each other when the "OMG it's YOU!" moment happens and they start talking as if they had always know each other face to face.

So to Aimee, Sam, Jennie to name just three, and all of you going to BritMums, have a wonderful supportive, happy time and tell us all about it when you get home on a high when the weekend is over !

Ibiza Rocks !

Sorting through my dressing table top drawer the other day I came across a buff coloured piece of crumpled paper tucked up into a small square. It must have been torn from a sketch pad as it was bigger than A4 when unfolded.To my delight it was in GirlTeen's childish handwriting, fairly neat and in ink. 

It was long forgotten ,short account of our trip to Ibiza, a full ten years ago from now. She was 7. Illustrated in places with pictures of variously a jacuzzi (I think that's what it is) and pieces of luggage, she reached Chapter 2 before she bored of the project.

Here it is reproduced as she wrote it. For my own amusement and hopefully, yours; an insight into the funny little way a 7 year old thinks.

CHAPTER 1

On Saturday 24th August I was going to Ibiza. I was very excited but worried that I would get shingles. I always get a virus or dessiece when it is an eccation*. Last time I went to Ibiza 2 years ago was when I got chicken pocks.When I went to Menorca I almost caught Singles. At 7:30pm my granddad but not the one who said his hair came of on his milk float,took us to Gatwick Airport. We waited a whole hour to get to the front of the que so we could get our flight tickets.Then we found out 1 of our cases was to heavy so we had to go to letter H and a lady put a sticker that said heavy on it.

*I think she means 'occasion'

At this point there is a an aside in a bubble that says :

Forgotten Message: Mum thought our heavy case would go to Malta.

We got in the britannia and flew off to Ibiza.Mum cried because she hates flights. We arrived at Ibiza and we took a coach to Hotel Presidente in Portanax resort.

Hotel Presidente, Portinatx, Ibiza (as seen on the Thomson website)

We got in the hotel and we were in room 28 on the 1st floor. It was 4.00am.

CHAPTER 2

We woke in the morning for our breakfast got dressed and then went to the welcome party it was boring and now mum wants to go to the market in Ibiza town <these next two words in red with jagged lines drawn round them> I dont! 

At least I got a kidsclub teashirt and cap. After that we went to the swimming pool until 4.00pm and the welcome party finished at 11.00am. 

FORGOTTEN MESSAGE: We met Sophie at breakfast

<Sophie was her classmate. To my horror, one of the more judgemental Mums From The School Playground was holidaying there at exactly the same time as us. Luckily I was in her clique (with gritted teeth most of the time) but I didnt really want to spend my away -from-all-that time with her. We quickly established different daily routines to the family without being entirely unsociable. It helped however that I knew I looked better in a bikini than Sophie's mum did ... >

Me and my mum went back to the hotel presidente and we both had showers.at 6:00pm we went to find my brother and my dad. We found them. 

Now soon I hope we go out to tea

After dad showers if he dosent diasagree.

There is unfortunately, no Chapter 3.But that's a crumpled piece of paper I will always keep and cherish; it brings back many memories that seem like yesterday despite being a decade ago.

Now she's nearly 18, a grown up, headstrong and determined. In a lot of ways though she's still that skinny 7 year old. Well, she always will be to me.