Now the children have returned to school and the eldest, Robson, six, has gleefully skipped back in, my addiction to Radio 2 has been be re-ignited.
What a relief. There’s only so much ‘Music Man’ you can ‘What can you play?’ and crocodile Row, Row, Rowing you can do, before insanity sets in for ever.
The two year old may complain, but I will win while it’s still possible. They get to a certain age when other battles are to be fought and if you can’t listen to the radio in peace, then what’s the point?
Being an older single mum has its joys and its pitfalls. We’re enormously grateful for the existence of our little ones, regretful of our failed marriages, but doing the best we can to get along anyway despite them and a bit peeved that we’re not truly represented, however we’re far too knackered to do very much about it.
And being almost middle-aged means more than likely we would be able to have and drive a car, unlike many of our younger counterparts, so at least we can get out and about - sometimes even on routes we could choose to take ourselves, as opposed to those the kids zealously dictate to us i.e. via train tracks / tunnels / big cranes etc.
It would also imply that we are not all holed up in tiny living spaces and we might have acquired a decent sized back garden, whereby two boisterous boys can let off a certain amount of steam playing football, cricket and badminton.
At least they keep you young, which just shows that listening to Radio 2 doesn’t mean you’re old, any more than being a single mum doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re a teenager!
This article was published in our local magazine, I'm very proud to say. Illness has got the better of us all this week, but this post is as representative of us as anything!
For those looking for the goss on the date, it has been postponed until next Saturday. Everything crossed for then!