Single Mums' Stories - My Own.

Anya Harris (47).

Hi to all new readers from Netmums Busting the Myths Single Mums Week.  Welcome to my blog.

Here I write, mainly as a mother, not necessarily as a single one - our issues are probably similar(!) - and with a wry outlook on life that a certain age can bring, i.e. the wrong side of forty.  Or is it the right side, really?

Anyway, I have been collecting stories from other (older) single mums in a wish to dispel the myth we're all teenagers, scroungers and immoral.  This series has been ground-breaking enough - without judgement for youngsters that end up in  free Council Accommodation (because I can include someone very close to home who had no other option temporarily herself) - that Netmums have decided to run their own themed week dedicated to all single parents.

My blog is still young and finding its way. It's self-deprecating look at having children later on, together with more ordinary occurrences and, more recently, the odd review (relevant to it) make it up.  Plus, there is the added joy of a gorgeous new boyfriend to write about, if we're not too old to actually use that expression, challenging the notion that I am a single mum at all!

However, the wonderful ladies who have told us why they are/were single, and the approaches they take/took towards the unexpected turns in their lives, add weight and homage to what we're about:  Check out Sarah (St Bloggie de Riviere) Hague, no longer single, living in France and many of us know the famous Annie (Mammasaurus) Spratt, who writes a shocker of a tale.  We can take comfort that she is happily married to Papasaurus now and, in addition to her eight children, has given birth to the amazing and incredible Love All Blogs, which grows every day in every conceivable direction - a true reflection of this inspiring woman.

We have Mel (HerMelness Speaks) Fargo and my Anonymous friend, both of whom were widowed and write surprisingly differently about their views and their individual circumstances.

Kairen (Confessions of a Single Mum) Varker is an old hand at this blogging malarchy and a leading light, plus the outrageous Katy (All Sweetness and Life) Horwood takes time off from her serial dating stories to tell us why she consciously became a Single Mum.

Ellen (In a Bun Dance ) Arnison gives us her tips, ever the consummate professional, as is Rosie Scribble who gives us an incredible insight into how narrow minded some people can be - even those with 'influence!'

My story - the shortened version is the one published on Netmums now.  However it's quite a different one telling itself here, evolving and moving on as I manage to.

There's a bit about my shitty Ex-Husband, followed by the first few diaries / columns I wrote in those early days [- if you have the stamina? -  1) It's Terrifying! 2) Eating Standing Up!] then the most exciting stuff starts with my lodger and whether this Landlady is a Tramp.

There's a bit about Romance, an addiction to Radio 2, plus plenty else, including a link to the Gingerbread Organization, an extremely longstanding, much respected Charity that helps Single Parents with advice, practical support and public campaigns.

If you're simple like me  you're not used to the blogging world, you can just scroll around and stay as long as you like.  Comments are always appreciated.

And if you enjoy our shenanigans, please don't forget to subscribe at the top of the page - it's free!

Romance.

And they say Romance is dead.

Standing in my towel, I said to the Lodger cum Boyfriend / whatever you call someone you are seeing / bonking / love at our age 'I need you.  Come here, please.'  He dutifully came up the stairs and in my semi-nakedness, I led him to the bathroom, ignoring his glee.  'Darling,' I urged, pointing right down the loo where Aiden had just done a no. 2, 'I need your opinion.  Do you think he's got worms?'  And there we stared for quite some time and decided not.

But you have to check when there's a case about, don't you?

We still haven't been on a date, with him moving in and all before we actually got it together.  Our friendship has stood us in good stead and it's all been a bit too good to be true.  I have been expecting it all to explode, but that hasn't occurred yet.

He even lovingly inspected my hair for nits the other day - because, again, you have to check (!) - which wouldn't have been half as romantic, with us in a gloriously hot bath and him combing through conditioner for really much longer than necessary, if he'd actually found any!  That would be gross and horrifying and disgusting and really kill any vibe we might be able to muster amid the maelstrom of life with two young children and the comings and goings of whoever our latest Foreign Student might be (currently French, 19, male, plays the guitar delightfully, rubbish English), all rendering a distinct lack of privacy or time for 'Us.'

In two weeks time, Shitty Ex-Husband, Mr. 'The Well is Dry' himself, he who has inadvertently blessed us all with the extra company and interest of two more men in our lovely little bubble, who help us and protect us and play endless football with his sons, and give us all a great perspective on what a crap bloke he has turned out to be, will be here on a visit for 'Contact' with them.

He won't see me this time.  I'll be making myself scarce, to see if romance is really alive and kicking.  Many miles away from him and in the arms of someone new, I reckon it just might be.

Having said that, what do you do in the face of a friend asking you, in all sincerity, with regard to your new beau, while you're feeling younger and more vital than you have for a decade, whether he's any good in... the garden?