Penultimate...

I had a second date this evening, with a man who can only be described as gentlemanly.

Well, actually that isn't strictly true...

That wouldn't be the only description of him that I could use; I could also say that he was kind, funny, very sexy telephone voice, attractive and potentially was someone that I could enjoy cuddling up to.

However, things never quite go to plan do they? It would have been lovely to have ended this evening with more than just a cuddle, but after an evening of chatting it became apparent that we were not as compatible as we would have both liked.

Wouldn't it have been lovely to have met someone as special as him and for it to have sparked off like these things are supposed to? Alas, instead of something more we said goodbye and wished each other good luck in our future searches.

So to him I say thank you; it is all about the journey, and having you in it made me feel special for a short while, you made me feel attractive and worthy.

People enter our lives for a reason...and whilst I can not say if I did anything for him, I can say that for me he boosted my self esteem at just the right time and at just the right level.

I just feel sad that penultimate did in fact mean final...xxx

Cake...

Pootle is home in just five sleeps...

The hobbits and I are just a tad excited by this prospect, can you tell? We have been counting the sleeps for her return from Oz since about two weeks ago, when she was only half way through her holiday.

The best news is that she is having an amazing time and I can't wait to hear every tiny little detail of what she has been up to, what she has done and check out her photos of Australian surfer type dudes.

I can imagine that the last thing she wants is to be returning to cold old Blighty after having such an experience, but we have missed her so.

Nevertheless, no matter how much I want her back, having some time on my own with the hobbits over the last few weeks has been very enlightening. She will be pleased to hear that I have found my independence and have actually settled back into my own skin again.

However, I can't wait to see her. She gets me, really gets who I am and I miss her trusted advice and general cheeky behaviour. If she was a man, I'd ask her to marry me.

So see you soon Pootle, at least so we can have a civil service and sort the world out again...any excuse for dancing and cake eh?

Too early for boots...

I have purchased some new boots this evening. They are verrrrrry nice :-)

My friend J inspects them, "hmmmm, you can't wear them on Saturday night."
I feel crestfallen, "why not?" I ask her pitifully.
"Not to the pub you at going to...riding boots would be more appropriate and..." She trails off..."it could be the wrong message."
"What is wrong with them?"
"Nothing, I think they are great...but, others around you may think you have a bankroll of fifty's slipped inside of them."

They are not that bad...honest Dad...however, it comes to something doesn't it when you are judged by the boots you wear, rather than the person you are. Isn't that tantamount to 'well she was asking for it because of what she was wearing?'

J is just looking out for my welfare and is someone who's opinion I respect, but I do feel a bit sad that  other people would judge me for my boots...because they give the wrong message.

I want to live a little....my freedom is making me feel very empowered, and I want to wear my boots because I like them, not because someone else might not. Clothing, boots and underwear all have the power to make you feel good, and should be worn in that way not for someone else.

However, I have heeded her words...and I will not wear them Saturday, unless approved by J herself...I trust what she says, and actually do not want to give the wrong impression...well, not this early on anyway.

Snug...

Ok now anyone who knows me at all, knows that I absolutely hate the cold.

You'd think wouldn't you, that it would make sense for me to have stayed living in a warm country, but there were even occasions when I was cold living there!

Even the hobbits complain that I have the heating on too high, and they will strut around in t-shirts while I am wrapped up in three layers and sit by anything that is kicking out warm air!

So you can imagine my complete and utter distress to discover that at 5.30 this evening I had no heating...blind panic came to mind.

So I have to say tonight thank you to two superheroes who came to my aid in order to attempt to assist me with my heating...S and M....honestly that really is their initials...

M attempted several times to get everything lit again, while S googled the instructions on my very old and outdated heating system. They were, quite frankly, a pair of superstars because although they didn't fix the problem they absolutely did their best to try.

So until tomorrow I have no heating. Thankfully I have borrowed a couple of heaters, and prompted by a friend I remembered that I also had an electric blanket in storage...so I am now snug in bed...with my iPad and that is just perfect.

Adrenalin...

 I am little excited....shhhh, don't tell anyone, it is just between us ok?

When I get excited about things adrenalin kicks in and I can't eat or sleep...it is very frustrating but having this much energy can be beneficial too.

I get a lot more done and I am Mrs Proactive...that includes writing 'that novel' as well as the other more mundane things.

However, I must explain; although I am excited I am also quite grounded too. Time is definitely the healer it maintains that it is, and having time to reflect on things makes you remember who you are.

Therefore, I am excited about being me at the moment. Hobbits are happy, I am happy...my friends are happy. Life can't get any better...can it?

Danger zone...

What is it about little boys bedrooms? Are little girls as bad?

In order to complete the housework duties today, I really had no choice but to enter the forbidden zone. The two areas in the house that I try to close my eyes too.

Sheesh! By the end of my marathon session I can now see the floor and there is a bag of rubbish awaiting disposal by the front door, however to get there it took about two hours of organising, disposing and cleaning.

To enter a boys bedroom you have to have a stomach made of steel. It really is no good being a pussy about this; you can find the most horrendous things under the bed, stuck on shelves and yes, smeared on the wall.

*shudders*

You have to be immune to potential mould growing on old apple cores, limber enough to pick up several sweet wrappers and patient enough to organise the DVD's....again.

So I completed my task with an iron will and protective mask. It has been fumigated and will stay clean for ooh, approximately 24 hours...

I suppose it is all relative. I am fairly sure my bedroom was a mess when I was a wee girl, but I really don't recall picking my nose and having no other solution but to wipe what I had found across my bedroom wall...eugh!!!

Until next week....when I will repeat the cleansing process all over again.

Pimping me out...

I have a potential date next week.

I have no expectations about it but I am quite looking forward to it, so let's hope it isn't too much of a disappointment eh? Be rest assured Dad I am just trying a few things on and out...

There is me thinking that it would be nice to go on a few dates with some different people, just to see what else is out there...nothing sinister...playing the field in a low key kind of way.

However my friend J has other ideas.
"So, what are you gonna wear?" She says to me today.
"Hmmm, I was thinking the new skirt."
"Yep, yep, I am liking that...heels, and no knickers." She says instructing me.
"What?" I look at her horrified, "I am not, not wearing knickers...what do you think I am?  I don't do stuff like that, especially on a first date...Not only that it will be bloody cold!"
"Oh go on girl, live a little." She says with a laugh, "no knickers, add a bit of spice."
"Are you trying to get me into trouble?"
"No, I am trying to get you to just enjoy what comes your way."

"Hmmm," I say, "I think you are pimping me out. Are you on commission here? Have you been speaking to a couple of male friends and made some sort of deal?"
All she does is laugh at me, which suggests that may be exactly what she may have done.
"Well, I will be wearing knickers, I can assure you." I inform her defiantly.
"Spoilsport. Let your hair down..."
"Or indeed my knickers..." I reply.
"Exactly."

Wish me luck eh? At least in getting out of the house with my full set of underwear still on...

Sunflowers...

One year ago today I made a monumental decsion. I told my husband that our relationship was over and that I could no longer continue as we were.

Due to the significance of today I bought myself some sunflowers; not to celebrate the anniversary, but more of a way of reminding myself of what I have achieved in this year, and recognising the strength I had in me to make that decision.

Someone told me today that they admired that decision. That they themselves were in an unhappy relationship and all they could do was talk about how unhappy the relationship made them, rather than actually doing something about it.

I never thought at the time that what I was doing was because I was a strong person, but more because what was happening in the house was more detrimental to the boys than going it alone could ever be. The atmosphere was constantly toxic, and now when they talk about it they still remember that mummy and daddy only ever argued.

That is not the way I want my children to remember their childhood in years to come.

As sad as it was, it was the right decision. I will probably make wrong decisions in time to come, god knows I have made a few over the last year, but essentially we are truly better off with being apart than we were together.

I hope that one day that he will find someone that doesn't argue with him, that loves him and cares for him in the way that he wants and that they can give. Because he deserves to be happy, and I didn't make him happy anymore.

My sunflowers that now sit on the side are significant to me, the hobbits have no idea why I have bought them. But I remember learning at the time how the sunflower turns its face to the sun, and these flowers made me feel that it was my turn to face the sun, and to feel the warmth of what the future held...rather than the coldness of the past.

My past year may not have gone exactly to plan, but any bumps in the road that I have travelled I have managed to drive over. We are not there yet...but we will get there.

Options...

So after too many evenings of staring at the wall and the gadgets becoming exhausted...I have decided to go back on the whirlwind that is...the dating scene.

The past couple weeks I have come to realise that I have to have a bit of fun with my new found freedom, so what the hell...let's have some fun. I am ready for it.

So without much ado, I signed up to a website last week and I am pleased to tell you my single friends, that actually there is lots of untapped potential out there. *insert smiley face here*

I now seem to have 'options' where there weren't any before, and life seems infinitely more interesting in the evenings...my mobile phone battery even required an extra boost of charge today. So things are looking up, wouldn't you say?

I currently have four options on the table, but I have to be honest here...for the moment only one is piquing my interest. Someone who is good at banter and is genuinely interested in who I am.
He is now under my telephone contacts as 'potential'...

Hmmm...there is no rush here, and no expectations...but I quite like the idea of trying something new and am very happy with how this is currently progressing.

So the babysitters are on standby, my mobile is charged and I am embracing life...will let you know how it goes.

Free time...

Sharing a cup of coffee with a friend and her fella early this evening, the conversation somehow veered onto fantasies...

"Ok," says my friend with the conversation in full flow "what is the deal with men watching women? After all, we women don't get excited about watching men getting off with each other."
My friend's fella shrugs, "well, for men it is the fantasy isn't it? Watching women, or having sex with more than one woman at a time."
My friend looks at him, "but women don't like watching two men doing the deed, so why the difference?"
He shrugs again and I make a suggestion, "I suppose two women together is more sensual, the female form and all that, whereas men are a little bit rougher." Speaking like someone who has great knowledge on the subject...not.

Her fella however agrees with me, "yes, watching a woman on another woman is sexy because a woman will normally know what feels good to another woman."
However in theory that suggests that man on man action would also produce the same result, but it is true we do tend to be more fascinated by women together than watching two men taking each other over by the photocopier...
"I have to admit," I say hesitating slightly, "I wouldn't say no."
My friend looks at me as though I have just told her that I murdered someone. "Really?"
This time, it is my turn to shrug..."yeah, why not? I think it is something you should try at least once."
"What with a girl or with both?"
"Both."

There is a slight pause in the kitchen...until my friend's fella confesses all, "I have."
We both turn to look at him and for just a moment the air stills and his words hang in the air..."oh" says my friend quietly.
"Tell me more," I say expectantly and for a brief moment he looks sheepish but my friend is smiling at him, she is not fazed at all.
"With two girls once, and with another couple twice."

Just when you think you know someone eh? So we get to hear all the details and we establish that he felt it was something that you do when you completely trust someone, although some people do go with strangers he preferred to know someone beforehand. It is also not something you could plan, he felt, it was more of a spur of the moment thing....with an alcoholic combination.

"So did you take it turns?" Asks my friend.
"Well, yeah, but it isn't as though it is timed...'come in pedalo number eight your time is up!" He says laughing, "it is quite a natural thing."
"Did you do it with the man as well?" she is very keen to hear all details.
He looks horrified for a moment, "no! You swap partners, but there is also something very sexy about another couple getting it on next to you."

I am impressed. Truly I am. In fact I am in awe a little, that he has actually had this experience and more than once...go *insert anonymous name here*!!!

"You don't need to analyse anything," he said, "you have a few drinks with good friends, and go with the flow. No need to discuss it the next day, just enjoy it in the moment."

I look at my friend and wink at her and immediately she shakes her head, "no, don't even think about looking at me like that!" She says laughing. "Anyway, I haven't shaved."
"Oh," I say faking disappointment, "and there was me thinking I was free this evening."

My favourite hobbit...

When I lived abroad and was pregnant I had no other young mums that I knew.

When you are pregnant you have a thousand questions that you need answering, and having exhausted Google I finally joined a mum's group.

There were a fair few mums in the group, and whilst the majority of them lived in the UK, some also lived in Canada, America and other countries too. They all had different backgrounds, different opinions and sometimes there were clashes of personalities on the 'board' and women left, but through most of it many remained.

(Let's be honest, if you stick over twenty pregnant hormonal women in a room it is bound to happen!)
Since returning to the UK three years ago the group has developed and those who truly do get on have branched off into their own groups, one of which I am very proud to be a part of. We catch up on Facebook fairly regularly, and it may be just to moan about something that has irritated us, or it may be just to share some good news, however in all it is a really nice bunch of women from across the UK who are there for support in which ever way it is required. We have even met up on a couple of occasions and shared a sandwich or two whilst watching our children play.

This morning there was a bit of a debate and general gnashing of teeth on Facebook, having discovered that one of the women that was originally in the group (but no longer a friend of any of ours) had been interviewed by a national newspaper. She has four children, and was happy to admit nationally that one of her children was by far her favourite, and even went on to say that this specific child was spoilt more, given more time and loved more than any of the others.

It has shocked people and many actually took time to comment on the online newspaper's article, to think that anyone, particularly a mother could deliberately single out one of their children as their favourite...let alone make it blatantly obvious to the other siblings.
So although I have mentioned my hobbits on numerous occasions, I thought that today I would talk about my favourite hobbit.

Now, collectively my three hobbits are a whirlwind of uncontrolled testosterone and energy...they talk fast, play hard, fight with genuine fists and will still, on occasion, expose themselves if they think it is funny...so not much change to adult men really just a tad less controlled....but individually they are very different.

Spider-Man is a sensitive lad. He is deeply affected by others and how they behave towards him, even though he hides all this behind pretending to shoot things and James Bond type games. He demonstrates kindness to others younger than him, and is always keen to show friendship. He loves story telling and writing letters to people he cares about or misses. He is my favourite Spider-Man of all...

Then there is Batman...who instinctively knows if I or any of us needs a hug. I don't know how he does it,  but he is always the one who will pick up on the slightest change in feelings in others and respond with affection. He is very protective of others and will always enquire about their welfare. He is bright and articulate for a six year old and will gladly recap a storyline of a film if any of us are unsure...he is my number one Batman.

Then, last but not least there is Superman. On his own he manages to be as loopy as a box of frogs...he has comic timing, warmth and can act out a good begging scene to get more sweets. He can also dance some seriously good moves, as actually they all can...but Superman has to be the absolute best Superman I know.

None of them are more important than the other because I love them all equally, and individually none of them could be more my favourite than any other because they are so different. What is sad about the mother who was interviewed in the article is that she has never bothered to notice what attributes her other three children have, she has never taken the time to see who they are but focused her attention solely on one.

Boy, is she missing out! Each hobbit is my favourite...and whilst they may try my patience at times, I am incredibly lucky to have such favourites in my life, and if you ever get to know them, they'd be your favourite hobbits too.

Adversity...

You know, when the chips are down it is amazing what people will do for others.

Of course naturally we would give our lives for our own children, because the love we have for them is unconditional; and we would kill to protect them as well...in fact I don't know of any loving parent who wouldn't.

Although the story I heard this week was not quite the same as killing or laying your life on the line for someone else, but about a young lad who really showed how much he cared for someone else.

Last Monday evening we had quite a downfall of snow here...and now being British, we can't handle any weather that is beyond our usual down pouring of rain, so the snow caught many people unawares. There were stories of people having to abandon their cars because they were unable to get up hills or because of accidents, and consequently other people were left stranded in their cars for many hours refusing to leave them.

Many people got out of their cars to help push stranded motorists to try and get people going again, and there is always a sense of team spirit in situations like these.

A colleague at work was telling me this week about her niece who also got stuck in the snow, and ended up stranded on the bus coming home from work for over three hours due to the traffic chaos. Her young boyfriend was worried about her and setting off with his dad in the car to go and get her, they themselves managed to get stuck in the snow and could go no further.

So this young lad, got out of the car and jogged the rest of the way taking him an hour and a half to run about six miles in his plimsoles, to ensure that he could walk her home safely and that she was ok.

There are other stories I have heard this week about other people who in the face of adversity, have risen to a challenge that they thought they wouldn't normally have done. Women who have gone above and beyond to support their husbands; friends who have put other friends first knowing that they will themselves suffer in some way...we are quite an amazing race really.

When the love of another person means that you will face any adversity and deal with it, in order to protect that special person in your life, then there really is no more admirable quality.

Except perhaps...unconditional love itself.

Duvet day...

I decided at the last minute today to take a duvet day...

I do believe that I was justified in taking a day off work, after all I haven't actually had a day off since Christmas. It was time to just having a day of me stuff...

So, I have been to the dump, twice...and finally cleared out some stuff that is been loitering in my back garden for some considerable time, and I have completed some jobs around the house. The sun even came out for a few hours, which made loading up the car less loathsome.

I have even...now wait for it...finally replaced the battery in the smoke alarm...wow, who is this new independent woman? And I am now baking cakes (a lot of bloody cakes) for some cake sale tomorrow at hobbit school, I have been instructed to make a Darth Vader cake (are you surprised) and lots of red nose cakes...

So much for a duvet day, eh? However, I have tomorrow off as well, so may just have one of them then with a good film...if only Pootle was here, she'd have joined me I am sure...

Things are looking up people...clearing out stuff in the house and doing those jobs that I have been procrastinating about, has given me a sense of cleansing. It was after all, about time.

So, hope your day was as productive and positive as mine...however I now have parents evening to go to, so it could all go downhill from there!

International spy...

We were just coming to the end of our chapter of Danny the Champion of the World tonight when Spider-Man asks me about men and women...

"Mummy? Some boys don't like girls." He says matter of factly.
"Ok..." I say preferring really that we finish the chapter of the book.
"Some boys like girls, and some don't. Why?" He continues.
I suppose that this conversation was bound to come up at some point, I just didn't expect it on a Wednesday evening at ten past eight, while reading Roald Dahl.
"Everyone is different," I tell him, "it is what is in here that is important." And I touch his chest. "If you like kissing a girl, that is ok." Spider-Man shakes his head vehemently.
"But if you like kissing boys, then that is ok too. It just depends on what you like and feel is the right thing to do." He shakes his head at this as well.
"You like kissing boys." He says laughing, and I can't help but laugh with him...hey, no point in denying it!

The truth is Spider-Man doesn't actually want to kiss anyone.
"Miss M at school dresses like a boy, but she is really a girl." He says
"That's true, and she is an amazing person isn't she?"
He nods, that, he agrees with. "She has a girlfriend."
"Then she is very lucky that someone loves her."
I start reading again, when he interrupts me, "Mummy?"
"Hmmmm."
"You don't have a husband or a boyfriend."
"No, I have something even better."
He looks at me waiting.
"Who do I have?" I ask him, and he shrugs. "Think." I say.
"Me?"
"And?"
"Superman and Batman."
"Exactly."

This makes my little Spider-Man very happy, but nevertheless he continues, which to be honest is a tad frustrating because I really am just enjoying the book. "You need a boyfriend."
"Ok."
"Someone who is kind."
"Anything else?"
"Someone who will look after us and guard us."
"Guard us? You mean someone who will protect us?"
"Yes, with a pistol."
"Anything else?" I was kind of thinking that maybe some more serious attributes may have come to his attention, but no.
"A walkie talkie."
"Ok..." I am slightly nervous about where this is going, however at least with a walkie talkie I assume I could speak to this fictitious boyfriend from his bedroom window to mine. "Anything else?"
"Yes, he should be a spy." He says with a big smile.
"Ah, I should have known. James Bond by any chance?" He nods, "I thought so."

So if anyone knows of a kind man, with a pistol who is happy to stand outside my house in some sort of guard pose and a walkie talkie in his belt, (just in case he needs a hot chocolate brought to him in the middle of the night I suppose) and also just happens to be an international spy, then tell him where we are. My son is looking for him.

Let battle commence...

It has been snowing here in the UK...

I say this because not everyone who reads my blog lives here, so I like to set the scene. I would also like to thank those of you in other countries who seem to very supportive towards my blog, and for some strange reason I have a little mini fan base in the Ukraine...happy to have you here.

Anyway...back to the white stuff...ahem...alas nothing hallucinogenic, although I hear snow blindness can send you slightly mad, especially when it is being thrown in your face.

The hobbits and I heard the news at 7.10 this morning...school closed for the day. Happiness and dancing was abound, even from me. The snow was still coming down thick and fast in the corner of our world and it seemed a perfect time to clear away some cobwebs and play!!!!

The hobbits and I were challenged fairly early on to a snowball fight of epic proportions. I had a message on my Facebook to meet the opposing team at the local playing field, with nerf guns and loaded frozen snowballs at 10am this morning sharp...but to also pick up extra milk on the way in case hot chocolate refreshments were required at half time.

So a battle plan was drawn and we loaded up the sledges and took ourselves off to demonstrate our fighting skills.
"Where are we going?" Said Superman, as I dragged one heavily hobbit laden sledge through the snow.
"You know," replied Batman from the comfort of his sledge, "the battle field."
"Oh." Superman said slightly confused.
Batman raised his eyebrows at him in exasperation, then turned to me, "mummy, what is a battlefield?"
Sheesh, don't they teach these kids anything anymore? Or was it just me and the other parent I was meeting that actually were up for a serious fight?

Thankfully his son was a bit more up for a fight, and no sooner had we rounded the corner to their house I was pelted with great force. Team S were ready for us and we were not prepared...we would have made terrible soldiers.

First rule of battle...Preparation
Second rule...don't die....
Third rule, when all else fails and you are being showered with snowballs...run like f**k!

Alas, it was too cold for the army to stay out long...superman and his best friend stayed out longer than most of us, but even they eventually came in with red cheeks, cold hands, wet gloves but happy.

The snow won't stay long...it is already melting, and we hope and pray for spring. However I am hoping that the expelling of some serious energy this morning, will result in sleepy hobbits tonight...I might actually get to watch all the TV I have recorded over the last six weeks...or yes, write that novel.

Just a song...

Someone played this song to me today...

One and Only

Now I get a great deal of comfort from music and lyrics...and I have never heard this song before until today. (I know, I have been living in a fog.)

I just wanted to share this song today on my blog, and I suppose log it in my blog diary. It is, just a song, but she says it so well...

Enjoy

If you can't beat them...

I have a very, very old friend who would have been very proud of me this evening.



Batman's idea to help us get through the snow

Not, alas, because I managed to get four (yes, four) tiny boys safely home and through the perils of the snow on the road tonight...and especially after facing road rage with a complete prick who decided to try and run us off the road and intimidate me...as if....I have three boys and work 24/7, do you really think you are hard enough?

No...he would be proud because this evening I have finally introduced the hobbits to the sound of Joni Mitchell, Janis Joplin and Van 'the man' Morrison.

Please tell me that you know who you are - or I will be sorely disappointed...

They have even started to learn the words to 'Big Yellow Taxi'...we started with something simple...I didn't want to scare the pants of my superheroes...

It has been a nice evening of dancing, singing and reminiscing...hey you can't blame me for blogging about a nice evening with the boys.

The snow is getting thicker outside, we are warm and I have my superheroes with me all the way...a comment that completely deserves this photo at last...thank you to those who gave permission.

Two of my superheroes..and an extra friend.

How can I go wrong when I have such amazing sidekicks by me? I am seriously contemplating purchasing that Wonder Woman outfit in a 'if you can't beat them, join them' kind of mentality. I could wear it at least when I am doing my usual ten jobs around the house as well as shovelling snow, cleaning up, cooking tea, answering the telephone and dancing around the kitchen...what do you think?

Too much?

Confessions of a dining room table...

If only my dining room table could talk...the things it could tell you.

It really has been exposed to the elements of my life in the past year and to a degree it could probably write its own blog...
...now there's an idea...

When I think about my dining room table and its experience, I realise it has become a focal point for many an evenings entertainment; deep and meaningful conversations; tears and laughter; burping competitions; rave sessions; witnessed the passing of one beloved hamster, (god rest his soul) and much much more...

See what I mean? How many pieces of furniture in your home get that much attention? I almost feel guilty for leaving the oven out of the loop!

Other furniture in the house must talk about the dining room table behind its back (wherever that may be), and almost curse it's luck in always being in the right place at the right time and to witness some of the best memories and experiences that the coffee table and TV cupboard can only dream about........

Hmmm....ahem, my apologies...a wistful moment there...

So the most recent experience and conversation for my dining room table to get in on, is a tarot card reading by a very experienced medium and a conversation with an old friend about FWB.

Friends With Benefits.
Do you? Don't you? Have you...and the pitfalls...?

It was inspired by me watching the film 'Friends with Benefits', where the heroine did indeed get the Hollywood ending that us mere mortals can only dream about....
...aah the American Dream eh?

However, I consequently found myself having a conversation with my friend S about this...not that I was offering I hasten to add, but only in order to find out what other people do, or don't do.

"Have you? Ever?" I asked him.
He thought about it for a minute, so it was clearly not a recent thing, "yeah, I have bumped uglies with friends before."
Bumped uglies? Sounds distinctly unromantic to me but who am I to judge.
"And? Did you stay friends? Was it just the once or a long term thing?"
"Just the once with one friend, and a five week thing with another." He informed me, "stayed friends with both of them. You?"

Hmmm, I'm not sure I can really divulge my answer on here, however I will say that there is something odd about a 'friends with benefits' relationship. You have to have some sort of attraction to them in order to, erm...now what was it? Bump ulgies? However, there is something that is also telling you that this is not the person for you, and it is just satisfying a need.

Clearly there has to be rules.
It has to be totally clear to both parties. If one party feels that this is a way towards a committed relationship with the other then that is seriously dodgy ground. So how do you guarantee that someone won't fall for the other? Especially if it is something that happens more than once. Any good relationship starts off with a friendship and sex is the icing on the cake...so having sex with a friend surely dictates that it has potential to go on to something else. Especially if it's good sex.

Woman are normally more emotional than men with regards to sex. They see it as something with feeling, hence the reason we have to have some serious build up gents (take note), and I am not talking simply about foreplay. Most women have to feel emotion to have sex, (most) and yes, alas, the more emotions and feelings they have the better it is...because you are essentially giving yourself completely and wholly to someone else. Is that fair ladies?

Whereas men...let's be honest, just need the ball bag emptying.
Too harsh gents? Ok, maybe I am being too harsh, some of you feel that emotional pull too...but when it comes to friends with benefits it worries me that one of the two involved could get emotionally involved, whilst the other is still seeing it as an opportunity to let off some steam and have a cup of tea after work.

You can not stop emotions and feelings, you can't keep them in a box while you play out your latest fantasy while hanging from a chandelier or tied to a chair waiting for James Bond to rescue you - oops that let the cat out of the bag about what mine is!

So how do you safely start an FWB relationship?

I don't think it necessarily equates that you have to be a specific type of person, but more that you have to be in a specific state of mind. A state which says, I am not ready for commitment but I am ready for intimacy...and if you are really lucky a hot cuppa afterwards.

You also have to be lucky that you are both in the same state, so that no one is responsible for the hurt of another and after discussions with friends, my conclusion is that most FWB relationships are doomed. Someone nearly always gets hurt...and do we really want to take such a high risk bet?

'On the other hand,' said my dining room table as I turned out the light before going to bed that night,  'are there ever any guarantees in life?'
Wise words from one who knows.

Mother's Day...

A very Happy Mothering Sunday to those in the UK who read my blog...

From the men in my life who love me the most...

 

I am pleased to report that I have been made breakfast by the men in my life...two slices of toast; one that just had a large slab of spread on it, and the other that was barely shown the knife.  There was a small debate about what I might like to have to drink for my Mother's Day breakfast beverage, and after some discussion that tea was too hot for them to make, water too boring... they settled on offering me a glass of wine.

I am not sure what they are suggesting...really!

We will be off to do the rounds by showing the love to my own mother, but I just wanted to mention today that I have a lot of friends who are mothers themselves and even my very own step mother, who are very special people in my life.

My step mother is rarely mentioned except when it comes to talking about her abundance of clothes, but I hope she knows that I love her. She is an intelligent, articulate woman who stops my father from interfering too much in my life. (I know you have to hold him back on occasion!)

The step parent is never an easy role...either when being introduced to young or older children, but she has managed this by just being herself, and being supportive and encouraging when it was needed. It is a fine balance and I have to say she does it very well.

I sincerely hope that you all have a good day and get spoilt by the children in your life, young or old...one friend got a tin of baked beans brought to her this morning from her one year old...she'll never forget that gift!

So from the hobbits and I, we wish you all a very Happy Mother's Day...whatever your role!

Morning...

The power of the cottage...

I dropped in to see my friend E last night.

I don't get to spend as much time with her as I would like, but when I do I always walk away from her house feeling grounded and calm.

She has the most wonderful cottage annex attached to her house where she bases herself, which is filled with twinkly lights, pink fluffy cushions and an air of tranquility. I am aware that I am not describing this little pocket of warmth adequately enough; the soothing power of 'the cottage' actually knows no bounds.

You can walk in, uptight, stressed or over wrought and immediately feel the blood pressure in your body stabilise. Settle yourself onto a big white sofa with a cushion that would make you sneeze if it tickled your nose and you are onto a winner.

She has lights everywhere, twinkling, winking and sparkling and she even has a mat on the floor which has tiny star lights in it that makes you feel sleepy just by stepping on it. It was raining when I arrived yesterday, so hearing the pitter patter of the rain on the roof when you are in comforting and peaceful surroundings makes you regress slightly; that you are being cared for by a warm mothering figure who may just make you a hot bowl of soup and pop a duvet on you to help you really snuggle down.

Of course, testament to the ambience of 'the cottage' is E herself. I can assure you, she isn't the typical mother figure. She is an empowering woman whose advice I respect immensely.

She grounds me without even realising she does it. If you can imagine that your stress levels have an arrow pointing to the warning sign, then as E talks this arrow slowly but surely ticks itself away down back to nothing...stress reducing, you settle into the biggest cup of tea in the world and it is easy to see why conversation doesn't have to be a priority under the power of 'the cottage'.

I am honoured that she chooses to have me as a friend in her life, because I am in awe of her as person (but in a very positive way.) She delivers advice in a calm voice, has an insight of others and why they do things and an indescribable nurturing nature about her...without being suppressive.

She is also incredibly empowering and encourages me on every level to be the best I can. E understands why I, at times, feel like I have failed and shows me that what I see as a failure, is in essence a lesson to be learnt.

E and 'the cottage' should be on prescription. Everyone should have the opportunity to feel the arms of the cottage surround you when you feel wretched or sad. The cushions massage your anxiety away and the lights soothe away any pain.

It is the best antidote that I know of, and is almost as therapeutic as the warmth of the sun.

Chocolate digestive...

A good friend of mine went for an interview today.

We discussed it at length the night before, as he informed me that it was going to be a group interview and he needed to eliminate the competition early on.
"Make some hash cookies, and share them round when you get in...that should help." I suggested.

This evening he dutifully rang me to let me know how he had got on.
"I had to draw something that represented me" he told me, "something that was a symbol of who I am."
"Really? God what did you draw, a bottle of Rum?"
He told me what he drew but basically he confessed to drawing something that they wanted to see, rather than it really being what he thought represented him. So I asked him, what would he have drawn if he'd been honest.
"A chameleon." He said without hesitation.
"Really?"
"Yep. Because they can adapt to any situation, they are flexible."
"Hmm....that could also be that they do not give away their true colours?" I suggested, "that you never really know who they are."
He laughed, "yeah that too."

It made me think. What would I draw? How many of you can think of something that represents who you are though a drawing?

My lack of imagination stumps me, and worries me slightly that perhaps I don't really know who I am.

However, another friend popped round for a cup of tea and a digestive this evening and he informed me that he saw me as someone who was always strong. Someone independent, who was achieving this new single life, running a home etc, and managing to organise things without effort.

This is laughable to me, if only he knew. However he was insistent. "Some men would find that intimidating," he said, "you come across as someone who doesn't need anyone else."

How did that happen? When did that happen? Just because a woman is strong and has an opinion, doesn't mean that on occasion she doesn't need to be picked up and looked after by someone else. We are all vulnerable on occasion and although essentially someone may be independent in their own right, that shouldn't mean that they are independent of other people.

Please don't assume that just because a woman or a man is a strong person, that they don't need others to pick them up when they are feeling down. We have those feelings too...I know my limits, I know my vulnerability but perhaps I don't share it enough with relevant people.

They also say, that the stronger you are the harder you fall. Perhaps this is because people ignore the strong ones until it's too late, not realising that they needed help...because the assumption is that they will always be strong.

So if you know someone who fits the stereotype....do me a favour, ask them if they are ok, and chances are they probably will be...but you never know, someone independent and strong out there might just need a hug and a chocolate digestive.

Tell me your story...

I gave blood today.

I confess, I like giving blood and would do it more often if I was allowed to. I love the whole process, and today the lady talked me through what the machine was doing, what the samples were for and average blood giving time...seven minutes.

I did it in 5.40...there is an air of competition in the room when you are doing it.

However, the strangest thing is that people become more relaxed when giving blood. It isn't like the doctors waiting room where everyone just sits quietly pretending that they really needed that emergency appointment, but it is friendly and chatty...it must be the tea and biscuits at the end that gears everyone up.

For me it started with a prick on my finger.
The nurse was very chatty today, told me about her holiday plans and her new boyfriend of six months. All very nice, until she tells me that she was in an abusive relationship for eight years, never thought she was attractive and has completely fallen in love with her new fella...who is just super nice.

Am I the only one these things happen to? What is about me that people start talking about their life story?

Katy, (the nurse) then informed me that she had caught the new boyfriend texting another woman last Sunday. She was of course very hurt, but he had explained to her that he didn't know why he had done it, and she feels that he did it to test her.

Hmmm...anyone else thinking what I am thinking? If he is testing her, why? What is there to test? He either loves her or he doesn't; he either wants to be with her, or wants to be single? It isn't bloody rocket science.

I wanted to say to Katy, "run, girl, run as fast as you can...if he is doing this now, what the hell will he be doing in another six months time."

But I didn't. Because, who the hell am I to judge or give advice when I know absolutely nothing about the situation...but, when I see Katy at the next blood giving session I really hope that the new fella was just going through a blip and it is all good news.

Then over by the biscuits I chat to two guys. One called Peter and the other one called Paul.

Ok, I lied about the second one, I have no idea of his name...but it sounded so much better.
They started talking to me about amateur dramatics, and it turned out that Peter was heavily involved.  I told him I did it many years ago, but not lately as my time was tied up with the children.
"Bring them too," he said.

I had visions of broken scenery and Superman letting off wind during an important solo part...hmm, no.

Anyway...Peter was touring with a group at the moment and he told me how some stages differ. The local one to us wasn't very high, and consequently wasn't geared up for the bigger performances that he wanted to do.
"I want to be able to fly," he said, "how cool would that be?"
"Are there many parts that call for flying," I ask, "apart from Peter Pan? What are you doing at the moment?"
"Oliver."
"Oh...well, maybe they can add in a final scene of Oliver flying off into the moonlight. Very modern."
Nevertheless he told me all about the mechanics of it, and how one can soar like a bird...or a new and improved singing Oliver Twist.

What I liked about the whole set up was the chatting. Someone has always got something to say, and whilst some of it might be someone off loading, (Katy was processing her hurt with a stranger so there was obviously more going on) or whether it is someone teaching you how to fly, I actually quite like the idea that I clearly have stamped on my head...tell me your story!

50 shades of red...

My friend J often pops round unannounced.

My house runs that way...everyone is welcome.  Tonight I heard the door go while I was on the telephone to my dad, and my lovely friend popped her head around the door.

It wasn't until she had completely entered the lounge that I noticed the pain on her face. She could barely walk, or sit on the sofa for that matter.

"I am in pain." She stated.
"I can see that. What on earth have you done?" I ask still with my dad on the other end of the other line.
With that, she whips up her shirt and shows me the result of her sunbed session today. Not, I hasten to add a nice shade of brown....but burnt skin that looks very sore to touch.

Me, being the friend that I am showed concern and shock, just before I burst out laughing.
"Bloody hell, how long were you on it for?"
She grimaces while trying to get comfortable on my sofa, "only eight bloody minutes!!" She pauses between pain, "oh god, what am I gonna do, it really hurts." Then growls at me to stop laughing.

I do at least have the decency to check my medicine cupboard for Aloe Vera, but can only find some Nivea cream for her to smother herself in. Alas Pootle is in Oz, or I would have raided one of her weird cream concoctions.

Now, she is in a dilemma. Tomorrow night she is off to see her man, the main reason why she decided to have a wee sunbed session, and has another booked in for tomorrow.
"Well, you can't have another one." I tell her.
"I have to, I got three for two," she says defiantly, "anyway if I have another one it will go brown wont it?"
"What?" I nearly throw the Nivea bottle at her, "are you completely blonde? It won't go brown it will go redder you daft tart. The skin is burnt, having another session will burn it more."
She pulls out her sulky face, "then you'll have to spray tan me then."
"Gladly," I say, "but don't expect there not to be graffiti on your back for the man to read...'place cock here' with an arrow pointing down to your arse!!!"

She swears at me, "I only wanted to look nice, why do I always balls it up?" She asks.

The truth is, this does always tend to happen to her...but she always thankfully takes it in her stride and has a good sense of humour about it.

"Do you think sperm would help?" She asks, in only the way that J would ask.
I look at her, and her puppy eyes because she does look disappointed, "babe, sperm is supposed to have medicinal properties for spots and cellulite not for removing sunburn and making you less than 50 shades of red!"
"You'll just have to stay in the spoon position, and take ibuprofen for the pain."

So a note for he who may be reading..Be gentle with her tomorrow, she is really fragile. However, she made my day and I don't think I have laughed as much for a while.

Defining me...

Somebody said something interesting to me today and it has stayed with me all day.

"My job defines me," she said, "it is who I am. If I don't feel like I am doing a good job, then my whole world falls apart. My job is me."

It really made me pause for thought.

I suppose if you are the Pope then being defined by your job makes sense...but hey, as we know from recent events, even the pontiff can reach a point where he has had enough and needs to put his gold encrusted slippers up on a pillow.

Is it just me who feels a little uncomfortable about your daily crust earning abilities becoming who you are, rather than a combination of other factors?

The lady I was talking to was quite adamant. Which makes me feel a little sad.

We should not be defined by one thing alone, but by many things. What we do is an important part of our lives of course because we spend so much time there, and it is important that we love the job we do; But, there are more important things in my life that deserve to be listed as things that define who I am.

I am at times more than one person...and I don't mean the voices that talk to me at 3am, but that we can't help but be more than one person in this multi tasking busy world; mother; friend; employee; employer; lover...but ultimately take all of those things away and I am still me.

My foundation is still me. Those extras don't make me who I am, they are extras, they are the icing on the cake...the sprinkles on my ice cream....the squirty cream on my hot chocolate, ok, ok, you get my drift.

My children define me, my friends define me, the people I love help define me....But ultimately I define who I am. I answer to me.

I have those people in my life and the job that I do because of my foundation. What came first? The job, the friends, the children or the lovers? No....me.

So being at peace with who I am sets me with a strong foundation to bring everything else into balance surely? Don't worry, I haven't eaten one of Pootle's hash cakes or a joss stick... I am of course, just wondering.

This lady said other things to me today that also gave me food for thought. I won't mention them here but sometimes I really love the work I do because I get to meet such amazing people, who have things happening in their lives and without realising it, they can provide advice or solace in a situation that I may have found myself to be in.

The foundation of who I am has on occasion been rocked, and there may even be a few cracks that require attention. However, after listening to this lady today, she has given me strength and insight without even being aware that she did.

From every natural disaster comes life; we ultimately learn from every experience and this helps make our foundations even stronger. I am working hard on covering up those cracks with something solid and with a lifetime guarantee, so that if it is rocked again I will be able to stand firm and take the battering.

I am working hard on making my foundation strong.
I am working hard on defining me.

A Hollywood ending...

"I have made a decision."

I say to J this evening while drinking coffee and being forced to watch the football. "I want a Hollywood ending."

She looks at me with her face quizzical, "oh god" she groans, "where is this going?"

You have to remember that she has pretty much become accustomed to my talking crap over the last year and it has been even worse recently.

"Hear me out," I protest, "I am not talking about anyone specifically, I am just saying that anything less than the Hollywood ending just won't do. I want the knight in shining armour; being swept off my feet by the man of my dreams...the whole deal."

She looks at me and ponders for a wee while.

"In Hollywood they always die." She says, bursting my bubble of happiness and wistful thinking.
"They do not!" I retort with a smile. "All Hollywood endings are happy, except for The Titanic."
"Yes they do..." You can see she is desperately trying to think of a film to prove her point, "ah, Romeo and Juliet." She says defiantly and points a finger at me.
"Are you serious? That was a tragedy written by Shakespeare, not a Hollywood film!"
She shrugs, "same difference...they all die."

Well, I beg to differ but there is no arguing with her.

"Hey," she says changing the subject slightly, "did you hear about that couple who hung themselves?"
"Seriously? Are you trying to cheer me up?"
"No, listen...they apparently split up, he missed her so much he hung himself from a tree, then two weeks later she realised she missed him and did the same thing."
I looked at my friend, sometimes I wonder where our conversations are going...in fact I frequently wonder this.
"It would be a right bastard wouldn't it, if the same dog walker found both of them? Can you imagine?" She pauses, "I mean you would change your route wouldn't you? You'd be terrified of finding a third one...what with most things coming in threes and all."
"A major tragedy befalls a family, and you worry about the dog walker?"
She looks at me, "well, yeah. Poor sod."

I look at her in all seriousness,  "well they didn't have a Hollywood ending, but it doesn't mean that I don't deserve or wont get one." I say sipping my tea thoughtfully.
She raises her coffee cup to me with a smile, "indeed you do babe, and you will I know it."

Unconditional...

Something amazing happened today.

I noticed it about 11am this morning as I walked through the office. The light shone through the window and something that we haven't seen in many months showed its face.

The sun was back!!! Yeah!!! Oh how we have missed you big warm ball of plasma!

I even bravely took off my coat when I went out in the car, something I haven't done in about four months, it was that warm...15 degrees, exciting stuff or what? You can't help but feel better when the sun is out....a nice big dose of Vitamin D and the windows down singing loudly to Example.

I only wish that I had the forethought to hang some washing out before I left this morning...sad mother thought.

Today I also had a little helper with me. Superman was poorly this morning, and I had no choice but to take him into work with me. Thankfully the staff team I was working with helped me out greatly while I saw clients, and whilst I was working he happily played games on the iPad and ate his packed lunch quietly.

It was quite nice to have him around actually and we have chatted in the car about all sorts of random subjects, and he proudly informs me that when he grows up he is going to be a Doctor and a shopkeeper...hmmm...money for sweets I think is behind his career choice, perhaps a dentist would be better?

Over tea we have discussed what they would all like to be when they are older. Spider-Man wanted to be in the army..No surprise there then...while Batman wanted simply to be able to climb a tree and get an apple. (A future Sir Issac Newton perhaps?) Then Superman changed his mind, he simply wanted to be nice.

All together now....awwww.

We also talked about what they were like as babies; they found it highly amusing that Batman was born feet first and with a big head; that superman used to projectile vomit his milk and that Spider-Man was such a good baby but has made up for it since by being a grumpy git on occasion.

They may argue and clash, but mostly they look out for each other...and me. My hobbits remind me whenever I need reminding, what unconditional love truly is.

Perhaps...

I am trying very hard to move on.

I have genuinely tried to make my blog upbeat and cheery, which to be fair has not really been a true representative on how I feel on a day to day basis. As melodramatic as it sounds, I feel this ache just below my ribs and intermittently feel sick when I allow my brain to drift off and think.

I know what I need to do, I know what I have to do, but my brain conspires against me and constantly reminds me of something that I care about. Then it hurts all over again.

My friend J asked me yesterday morning if blogging helped. She wondered if putting down all my thoughts actually eased anything, or made it worse. I confessed to her that blogging always helps, because it is a chance to write down your feelings and get them out there rather than containing them in a bottle called 'painful'.

She reminded me that this blog is all about my year and these feelings are all within my 'year'. That maybe one day I will look back at them and think of things more clearly, fondly or as simply a nice memory.

It is her that suggested that I write these feelings down...but I am writing them with trepidation. Partly because I feel it exposes me too much, that perhaps it sets me up to be mocked or even chastised; it even suggests that I am one of 'those women', who end up becoming Miss Havisham like types or start going through an old flames bins...thankfully he never had a rabbit!

So here goes....nervous pause...

I miss 'him'.
I range from feeling unworthy and sad, to confusion and on occasion...anger. The feelings of being unworthy stem from the last email with the suggestion that I was not good enough for him. That he suddenly looked at me after some months of giving me signals that I was someone that he cared about, and he saw someone he really couldn't be with.

Hence the confusion. I am clearly not good at reading signals.

There are times when I feel anger. Anger about how the end was communicated to me, not about him specifically; but it felt like they couldn't even bring themselves to tell me to my face how they didn't want me. It may have been just six months, but there was an emotional involvement there in every way...and that includes extended family.

Something that I genuinely love, care about, laughed with and wanted to share things with has gone, and I have been told that it is gone for good.

Did you know, that a part of your brain is dedicated purely to hope? Alas, it is only a tiny bit so don't get over excited. Says it all doesn't it?

Perhaps by writing this down it will help me cleanse what I can not process. Perhaps it will make it hurt less. Perhaps I will think about him less...perhaps, perhaps, perhaps....

Clarity...

Well, I have danced some blues away this evening and spent an evening having adult conversation.

I even got chatted up by a very nice guy, who I knew from many years ago who now also finds himself single.

Whilst this was all very flattering, and he is certainly a good catch...I realised something very clearly while talking to him. I am not ready for this. I am not ready to go back out there and start dating again.

Meeting new people, male or female is ok...but I can not do anymore than that for now; and anyway, he loved Bovril and I love Marmite - it would never have worked.

So going out this evening gave me some clarity about what I can and can not do.

I can look after me. I can look after my hobbits. I can get through some of the day when I am not preoccupied by someone else; but alas until I can look at someone and not think about 'him', then I can not date anyone else.

That will come, in time; but until then, it is just me, my boys and those who are already in my life that I love.

J's mission...

Ok, it is Friday night people.

I have my new skirt on..woohoo...and I am off out for the night for some adult company.

Having just spent the last two hours entertaining the troops at McDonald's, it is only fair that I now have some time talking to people who don't say the word fart, poo or please can I have a balloon in the same sentence.

Pootle is off to Oz tomorrow...violins for me please, but party poppers for her. She is going to have a absolutely brilliant time with her experience of a lifetime; but boy am I gonna miss her. I did suggest to her that I had a key to her house, just so that I can wonder around it while she is gone and light a few of her candles just to appease me while she is away. Essence of Pootle...by L'oreal.

So I have left her doing the last of packing and panicking, and am pottering off myself out to a bar with some friends.

J is on a mission...a mission to ensure that I do not spend the rest of my life alone. "I have a plan," she says, "I am going to go round the bar and mention to all of the men there in a whispered tone, 'single girl, eleven o'clock, check it out.'"
"Well, that won't make me look lonely and sad will it?" I say. "Why not just give me a t-shirt that says, single desperate white female...needs attention."
She looks at me slyly.
"No. Don't even think it."

So I have no idea what tonight will bring, but I am doing my very level best to do what I am told. Get out, talk to people and move on...I really do have to accept that he has gone for good.