|Who can blame a girl?|
IT’S not what you expect – having a baby at 45.
Neither is it what you expect to tell your husband you’re divorcing him, followed by such news. And that’s how it started. Nothing could change my mind. Matters would merely be delayed. Three miscarriages is enough for any woman to contend with. It would be foolish to risk a further one. This would mean having to put up with him for a while yet, as long as it was bearable. However it was not to be. Things would eventually and naturally prove intolerable.
We already have a delightful son who was approaching 4. It was important to me and I was glad that they were full siblings, same blood etc . Secretly, that is sort of the only reason I’d had sex with my husband in the first place. Shamefully, despite pretending such shenanigans were with Daniel Craig ....
Column 2 - Eating Standing Up!
‘EAT while the baby sleeps,’ that’s my motto. Those who said
‘Sleep while the baby sleeps’ is for those with only one child about or the
delightful luxury of plenty of help around.
Seeing as neither of these scenarios exist here, it is virtually impossible for this single mum to catch a nap in the daytime. I must be one of few breastfeeding women to actually gain weight! This is partially due to a new penchant for an absurd amount of chocolate raisins .... Read more....
Chapter 3 - Exhaustion and Delight Set In.
Oh dear. What a huge mistake – probably the worst ever since becoming a mum. An absolute disaster.
Robson, visibly appalled by the kids’ behaviour in the episode we watched together ‘for fun’ has ever so efficiently managed to mimic it brilliantly. Firstly, it was funny. Now, not so. We have been to Hell and back slowly, surely and several times over.
Matters have somewhat tempered a bit, but tempers are what we are dealing with. Estranged Husband said he could have told me what would happen. Always clever after the event, while no help whatsoever in the aftermath. He just sits there in shock ...... Read more...
Chapter 4 - Robson Starts School.
Well it was the shoes that did it. He looked so grown up. Big boy black trousers, polo shirt with collar over his sweatshirt – all nice and casual, then you spot the polished formal footwear. My little boy was starting school.
They break you in gently round here – a couple of taster sessions in the few weeks leading up to their first half week or so , then just mornings for a term being a May baby. This must be more for the parents than the children i.e. to get us used to the idea. Robson thought the whole thing was a hoot and ‘brilliant.’ Good old Montessori Nursery had set him up nicely. He was confident and strutted in happily, all independent and never looked back. I howled my way around the local Co-op for... . Read more...