90 Secs with a Solicitor on Divorce, Separation, Mediation + Children.

Every now and then I’m asked to talk about something specific on the blog that turns out to be really worthwhile and today is one of those days! 

Peacock and Co. Solicitors got in touch to tell us about their 90 Seconds with a Solicitor series …. where they’ve laid out commonly asked questions and given their expert legal advice as answers.  

Although they naturally cover all the usual services, it makes sense to stick within Family Law and what would be appropriate to here.   

The Solicitor whose pragmatic wisdom we are blessed with today is Caroline Mills, a Partner in the firm and it’s really impressive how much information she can impart in 90 seconds!

When you’re thinking about separating or divorcing and children are involved, things aren’t always straightforward so it’s easy to go round in circles for a while and even when you’re apart, or have been for a long time, a little help from a skilled professional can go a long way.

In the 90 Seconds with Caroline Mills on …. Divorce, she recommends planning, if possible, to separate at the appropriate time in the tax year and suggests considering a forensic accountant if you think your spouse isn’t disclosing all his / her assets.  Plus she talks about what happens with regards to any monies you expect to inherit after your divorce.

In 90 Seconds with Caroline Mills on … Mediation, she explains how you are now required to attend a Mediation Information Assessment Meeting before an application can be made to the courts if you are in dispute with your ex-partner and how mediation with a neutral third party can be a beneficial option for resolving difficulties over finances or contact with the children.   

She also discusses parental rights in 90 Seconds with Caroline Mills on… Children: Life After The Break Up – regarding who has their say on the big decisions like medical treatment, schooling and holidays and the latest one is on … How to Deal with Christmas when you are Separating or Divorcing, where she imparts some brilliant and sensitive advice about how best to deal with everyone’s needs during the festive period.

Caroline Mills, Partner at Peacock and Co. Solicitors

Caroline is a trained Collaborative Lawyer and Family Law Mediator and she and Peacock & Co are members of Resolution, a group of independent family lawyers who follow a Code of Practice that promotes a non-confrontational approach to family problems. They are based in south London but are happy to represent people from further afield.

In the meanwhile, please feel free to check out their website which is full of fabulous information posted for free and I hope it is of benefit to those of you who starting out on the road of separation, or are even further along it and need to know where you all reasonably stand.

All the questions, answers and contact details can be found in their NEWS section HERE.  

You’re welcome XX

This is a collaborative post, but all words etc are my own.

The Truth About Being a Single Parent.

Following on from The Truth About Being an Older Mum it occurred to me recently to do the same about being a single one.

Lots of people find, by choice, they become a single parent, some have it forced on them.  Either way, there's so much you can predict - the practicalities are doubled, your guilt as a parent never leaves you and how the children cope is dependent on how well you can, or not.

There are deeply painful conversations to be had - you all wish things had turned out differently, your children need constant reassurance and protection from you, their suffering is your suffering and, most of the time, you get along just fine, because anything other arrangement is better than one that involves conflict.

But every now and then something unpredictable comes along, something you can't explain to the children sufficiently, something that adds to their already quite normal embarrassment about our circumstances being different to most of their friends' and out of somewhere deep, you have to draw out yet another solution, one that's tougher than the rest, re-inforcing how hard it is to be going it alone.  And it's not always possible:

The Five Year Old was arguing with me.  He was absolutely adamant about something perfectly reasonable, but I wouldn't give in.  I will never give in.

I will never let him go into the Gents' public loos alone.

He and the Nine Year Old come into the Ladies loos with me.  And that's final.

But they need to understand.

Who can blame them?

What does one say to two such young children who want to do what their mates do?  But their mates go in with their Dads, they're told.  They're protected from predators, they're not told.

Until now.  At some point, as excruciating as this conversation is, it's got to be held.  By me.  Like all the difficult ones are.  And I don't mind, it's my job, my privilege to protect my children, to teach them, educate them about matters, but ones like these are super trying.

Those about mums and dads splitting up, living apart, and, in our situation, complicated 'Contact' stuff are all second nature now and although they're far from easy, there's no choice in the matter or those circumstances.  We have to deal with them as best as we can, re-visit them as ages and perspectives change and we get used to having them.

This one conjured up a whole different scenario, having to skirt around the issues, but be as clear as possible without intruding upon their innocence.  It was tough and it's unlikely the matter is closed.  The eldest is a little more accepting because he has the experience of a man (known to the Police it later transpired) secretly beckoning to him in the local library when I once (very briefly, fortunately) popped off to fetch a glass of water before breastfeeding his baby brother, and, as fate would have it, he remembers a girl about his age coming into the Gents loos with her Dad on one of the infrequent times he was actually in one (escorted obvs).

So what do we do?  Aside from checking they're empty first then standing guard, which can only sensibly occur in smaller venues, there really is no option.  What upsets the older one most though, is the dirty looks he gets from the women using the Ladies.  I understand everyone's points of view, but they're my children and, surely, I'm not bringing them in with me for fun?  I tell him that a little awkwardness is a small price to pay for his safety.  He's still relatively small and vulnerable.  Perhaps those who disapprove could re-think their glares and share a sympathetic smile instead?

I tell him that the people who should be locked up for ever aren't and a lot of them live along the south coast, so it's us who end up feeling imprisoned.  But that's way over the head of the Five Year Old.

In fact, it's kind of a relief when the little one returns to being inconsolable over the heartbreaking whole household issue of us all 'really, really, really' wanting a dog, yet, purely for financial reasons, rather than social ones this time, he's not winning that argument either!

What kind of unpredictable or trying conversations do you have with your children?

How to Make Your Four Year Old Giggle Helplessly.

It's not normally too hard to get the little one in hysterics because he's such a comedian he manages to do it himself and his brother and I just trail in his wake.

Last night though, he surpassed himself in the kind of high brow manner you might expect on this here blog *cough,* such is life with two boys aged eight and four.

It's been a long time since either of them requested a lullaby at bedtime, but after a particularly fractious one recently and lying between them both on the bottom bunk bed as I am wont, it seemed an appropriate move.

The eldest revels in them and my attempt at such a desperate relaxation technique will work for him.  The youngest will prefer to tolerate my singing whilst picking his nose and when I tell him my mum used to sing 'Golden Slumbers' to me when I was little, he'll have no problem hiding his indifference, but be polite enough to pronounce that 'Cool.'

But he asked for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and the eldest obliged with his truly delightful singing voice and, for a moment, pure pleasure permeated our hearts.

But when you add 'Poo pants, poo pants, poo pants, poo' to the tune - and 'Poo pants, poo pants, poo pants, poo,' again, continuing with 'Poo pants, poo pants, poo pants, wee, Poo pants, poo pants, Halloween, punctuated only by bursts of helpless giggling by the gifted little lyricist and vocalist joining in with his version, your joy can know no bounds.    

The Morning Shower.

The fearsome four year old is outside the bathroom door:  'Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!'

Me:  'Darling,  I'm in the shower.'

Him:  'Mummy! Mummy!'

Me:  'It'll have to wait sweetheart. I'm washing my hair.'

Him:  'Mummy!'

Me:  'Don't come in.  The students are around. I don't want them to see me.'

Pause.

Scarily long silence.

There's no crying coming from either of them.

Me:  'Is your brother all right?  Are you all right?'

Unison: 'Yes Mummy!'

I've made sure the windows are closed before even contemplating getting in and that there's nothing dangerous lying around, given them the 'nice boys with no fighting get nice scooter rides to school' lecture.  They're both clearly still alive.  The eldest will be reading, the youngest is still waiting patiently.

Him:  'Mummy!'

Me: *exasperated voice* 'Honestly darling, I'm just taking my morning shower. Everything is fine.  I'll be out in a few minutes.'

Him:  'But, Mummy...'

Resignedly, the water is switched off rather earlier than anticipated, but I am clean.  It has been a short lived, perfunctory pleasure.  The warm towel is wrapped right around my shoulders and, bracing myself for whatever chaos may await me today, mumbling about how there is honestly never any peace, I open the door to him.

'Mummy! What comes after 109?'

#badmother

If you're kind enough to have me on your blog roll, please update the link on it to http://www.oldersinglemum.com/ - I'd be really grateful, thank you. 

Introducing Your New Partner to Your Kids.

Some of you have noticed that there has been no reference to the man who was my lovely man lately.

Unfortunately, we've had to part company, because of reasons that are beyond both of our control. We're both devastated and we don't know if this situation is a permanent one, but for now, we have no choice.

I regret that we never dated properly. We settled straight into domestic bliss - with him being my lodger and us being friends beforehand for quite a while.  He and the children already knew each other and things were really easy between us all from the off.

I haven't been able to bring myself to write about it because it's too heartbreaking.  Suffice to say , I used to think that things were too good to be true and, perhaps, they were, because something has come up and his commitments to his children have to presently take precedence, despite them all being adults.

Me having young children is one thing - I don't think I could have coped if his were school age too.  The hell that I went through with my ex-husband and his kids split him from the rest of his family as well as them, so it's not something to be taken on lightly.  It was nothing short of a rigmarole, full of heartache and has left scars, so I'd never planned on having a boyfriend until he landed in my lap, so to speak!

Getting involved with anyone who has younger children is less likely at my age anyhow, but not impossible, so when I was contacted by a company who wanted to do a feature about dating, this was the subject I asked them to talk about and they actually give some cracking advice:

Featured Post. 
When you’re in a new relationship there comes a time when you ask yourself, is this romance going
somewhere or is it just a bit of fun? Once you realise you really have met someone special and you
see a future as a couple, it’s a great feeling but it can also leave you somewhat anxious.

You may start to wonder: will things work out long term? Do they feel the same way? And, most
importantly, does this mean I have to introduce him or her to the kids?

Image courtesy flickr.

It can be difficult enough to make that decision to start dating again but more questions lie ahead.
Deciding to introduce a new partner to your children is certainly a milestone in your relationship, but knowing how and when to do it is something that you need to handle with tact and care. The last thing you want is to cause problems between you and your partner, or you and your children.

Here are some things you need to consider:

Timing.  In an ideal world, you should not introduce a new partner until the dust of your former relationship breakdown has settled. Your children will need time to accept that your relationship with their other parent is over – this may take some time.

Activity.  If the time is right, try and make that first meeting as low-key as possible. Avoid dramatic reveals or involved heart-to-hearts on the first meeting – this is not fair on your children or your partner.  Instead try something fun like a night ten-pin bowling or a day out at the farm.

Image courtesy flickr.

A low-key activity gives everyone the chance to meet each other without too much pressure. After
this first meeting, allow a bit of time to pass before you arrange another. During this time your
children can organise their thoughts and you can answer any questions or concerns they might have.

Sensitivity.  Remember you have nothing to feel guilty about. Just because you’re a single parent, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy some romance in your life. However, you do need to be sensitive about it.

If you've been single for a while, your children may be used to your undivided attention and fear that they’re losing you. Reassure them that you love them and that your relationship with them will not change just because you have a new partner.

Be pragmatic.  We all dream that things will go smoothly. Unfortunately there is no guarantee your children will feel the same way about your partner as you do – nor that your partner will click with your children.  Take things slowly and be prepared for hiccups along the way.

Be honest.  The best way to alienate your children is to make them feel they’re being kept in the dark about your plans. Discuss your relationship with them and signpost your plans clearly before making them happen. Make decisions together and be prepared to take things one step at a time.

Above all, forget those fairy tales! Stepfamilies do work but you need to work at them. Keep talking, keep loving and keep happy. You deserve it.

If you’re still looking for that special someone, you can find out how online dating can help you
meet like-minded people at e-harmony.

Then and Now.

What was I thinking?  Goodness knows what came over me.

Perhaps some sort of amnesia?

It was short lived and shocked into submission, whatever it was.

There were days before children when I'd saunter off to stay at a Marriott or somewhere equally salubrious without a care in the world, a bag over my shoulder, carefree and happy, where the pool would be waiting, a steam room would quietly be spurting its smelly stuff and the relaxation chairs would be holding court with plumped up cushions calling for company in between.

But that was then.  This is now.

Now there are two bags to lug, two children in tow, me screaming at them to get their shoes on for the umpteenth time or we will be late and crying because we're going on holiday and supposed to be happy and it's such an ordeal to pack up the car and leave the house, despite being organized to the hilt the night before, that some deep breathing exercises are required to halt the tears before even pulling away.

On arrival at the posh hotel - booked as part of one of my son's competition win through contentandcalm via Rosie Scribble's blog a while ago - and one I chose myself so blame cannot be apportioned elsewhere - the short-lived amnesia was swiftly booted into touch.

What on earth had I been thinking?  Or not - it would seem.

My eldest stood wide -eyed staring at the youngest's antics, announcing loudly that 'he really should be on a remote.'

If only.

Already weighed down with luggage, snack-filled back-packs and colouring cases, trying to check-in, keeping control of him had not entered my mind.  Wide open spaces (the foyer) and special places for as fast as possible running (the corridors) were met at full pelt while his brother and I had to overcome our astounded surprise before dropping everything and trying to stop him (inadvertently adding to the game!).

Then we went 'swimming,' where, unfortunately for him, jumping was not allowed.  People want to be mellow - and who can blame them?  And then it hit me.

The closest I got to those loungers was looking at one lustfully, the sight of a sauna made me sulk and the pool itself, with two young boys, was anything but peaceful!

Yet when it came to dinner time, I would previously have taken this alone in my room.  Business trips meant staying at decent Hotels - holidays with friends would be different - still lovely, but not in establishments like these.

On the few occasions I might have tried dining in the restaurants or bars, the staff and other clientele would treat me like I was fair game or on the game.  Wandering around the streets in a strange city in the evening is generally not advisable, so I'd wear myself out in the gym, hit the spa and enjoy some peace and quiet before eating something delicious off my lap, happily watching some foreign telly.

But that was then.  This is now.

With the three of us heading towards the Brasserie later on, a waiter tipped me the wink that the Bar Restaurant wasn't as quiet as that one.  Feeling defiant, I decided to check it out anyhow.  Almost as much as a nanosecond passed before deciding he was right and whilst the kids delighted in the huge screen showing a football match, the realisation dawned deeper that as much as I try to retain some level of sophistication in our lives, it really is a losing battle.

This is now.  That was then.  And I absolutely wouldn't have it any other way.

Begging for bums!

'Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit!'

'No bouncing on the bed!  How many times do I have to tell you?'

'Again, it's time to get dressed.  Now, come on.'

'Get yourselves dressed.'

'If you don't get dressed now, I'll take you to the shops/ school/ out in your pyjamas.'

'No, you can't have chocolate before breakfast.  You know that.' 

'Now sit straight at the table.  No, don't sit sideways.  It twists your stomach.'

'It's what you asked for.  Elbows off the table.  Eat your breakfast nicely.'

'No.  Don't hit your brother.  Stop fighting.  Be kind to each other.  I've had enough already.  Please. Stop winding each other up.'

'Crikey.  No, you can't watch television, it's time to leave.'

'Hello?  You've had all morning to play with your toys / train track / each other.  Why choose now when we're trying to get out of the house?'

'Get your shoes on for the millionth time.'

'Why is it such a struggle to ever leave?'

'Which bit of 'get your coat on' didn't you understand?'

'No.  I want Radio 2 on.  I'm the driver, I'm in charge.'

'No.  All they play is that James Arthur.'
..............................................................

'We're home now.  That's enough fighting with your brother.  He loves you.  No, I know it doesn't look like it, but that's his way of showing affection.  He wants your attention.'

'Stop annoying one another.  'Because you're really annoying me.'

'That's it.  I've had enough.  For goodness sake why can't you just play nicely?  Loads of children would love half the toys you've got. Shall we give them away?'

'What's with all the noise?'

'No you can't watch television.'

'There's no need to shout.  Why do you have to be so loud?  STOP SHOUTING!'

'OK.  Put the television on and leave each other alone.  Leave me alone.  I'm having a glass of wine cooking dinner.'

'That's it.  Sit to the table properly.  No don't kneel.  Legs forward.  Why do you have to sit like that?  I don't care how they let you eat at school.  You're not eating like that here.'

'ELBOWS OFF THE TABLE.  Be polite.  Eat nicely. Yes, you do like it.  You always like it.  Yes, you can have pudding when you've eaten all your dinner.  It's not a race.  Yes, fruit first, then pudding.  You know the rules.'

'Yes, you do have to do your homework.  Yes, I know it's a pain but it's got to be done.  No I won't do it for you, but yes, of course, I'll help you.  We love problem solving / maths / Literature / English, don't we?'  No, you can't watch more television afterwards, you'll get square eyes.  No,you can't do it while you eat your dinner.  I don't care that no-one else does it, you'll get mummy into trouble if you don't do it.  We've spent longer arguing over you not doing it than it takes to actually do it.'

'No, we can't watch a film.  It's time for a  bath.  No, you can't play with your toys / the computer / your brother now.  You've had all evening to do that.'

'OK. One of you out of the bath NOW.  I don't care which one.  Whichever one of you hurt the other one first. Out.'

'No bouncing on the bed!'

'Night, night.'

Repeat ad infinitum, right?  Roll on next week!

Unsophisticated Chaos and Madness.

There are many things people don't warn you about before you become a parent.  These things are like Secrets of State.


Stuff you simply wouldn't believe possible of yourself pre- children:


1)  How many sausages you'll end up eating, mainly because the children love them and you can't be bothered to cook anything different for everybody else.

2) Your tolerance level of Hell adjusts itself daily. Accordingly, it will be you who regularly and insistently drags the others to Indoor Play places, not vice versa.  They'll be sick of them, but there's nowhere else you can just sit on your behind and they can run themselves ragged without you turning a hair.   

3)  You discover that there is such a thing as six O'Clock on a Sunday morning - it's the children's favourite time of the week.  They save their lie-ins for schooldays.  It's a law.

4)  When someone comes hurtling at you with their lips pursed and their eyes crossed for a big fat kiss - as long as it's not the old bloke who mutters to himself round the local shops - you will be the one giggling helplessly and begging 'Again!'

5)  Sometimes, you really do contemplate just walking out of the house, leaving them behind to get on with - by all intents and purposes what seems to be - their business of trying to maim one another. 

6)  The only Champagne breakfasts you're brought nowadays are the 'pretend' ones your son brings you from his toy kitchen.

7)  Doing a jigsaw with your little ones can involve losing the will to live at least three times over.

8)  Despite the assertions of one of my favourite finds and great gift that is the Knackered Mothers' Wine Club blog, no matter how hard you try, there really isn't a glass of wine that feels right with baked beans (see no. 1).

My life has not remained anywhere near as sophisticated as I imagined it might. Has yours?

Those days are gone - in more ways than one!

I love you with all my .... What?

My sons are avid football addicts, cricket lovers, 'tennis' fans, golf freaks and enforced rugby players. Their Dad played for Wales (yes, he's a nut job!) and teaches them to tackle and scrum and stuff.  Let's say sport is in their genes and it shows.

Yesteday, I was paid the highest compliment possible by my three year old:


Me:  'I love you with all my heart.'

Him:  'I love you with all my teeth.'

Me:  'I love you with all my fingers.'

Him:  'I love you with all my arms.'   

Me:  'I love you with all my eyelashes.'

Him:  'I love you with all my belly.'

Me:  'I love you with all my toenails.'

Him: 'I love you with all my balls!'

Me:  'Ew. Shall we watch Tom and Jerry?'



How much do your children love you?

'Why does he do that?'

I have just heard of a book said to get inside the minds of angry and controlling men.  (For this you can also read 'disrespecting, insulting, devaluing or intimidating' ones). It is called 'Why does he do that?' and seems right up my street.  Having come so far down it though, it's not going to make an easy tackle, because it's tough to look back at how awful things used to be with Shitty Ex-Husband.  However, it is necessary to explore - it having been highly recommended - what advice it might offer with regard to his 'Contact' with the children.

Already, it has to be supervised and he resists, obviously, but strategies for his (endless) arguments and manipulative ways can only be a bonus.  It is very wearing being with someone - even when you're no longer 'with them' - who is seemingly demented.  So often.  And perfectly charming when they fancy.  It is confusing and frightening as well as heartbreaking and who wants to inflict that on their children?

I spent so many years crying, trying to fix our marriage / avoiding it altogether - and for why is something I might never be able to fathom - unless the book provides some answers - but it is impossible to deprive Robson and Aiden of their father altogether. He rings regularly (unless I've asked him for some long overdue maintenance(!) - see 'The Well is Dry')  and every few weeks I accompany a friend and sort of keep my distance while she takes my boys to play in the park with him.  They don't seem like 'ours.'  He has been gone nearly three years, since I was pregnant.

So it will be my mission for the next few days and I will report back shortly.

In the mean time, who knew children could be so happily entertained by watching mum clean her teeth and made quite so joyful by her actually sitting between the child seats in the back of the car while someone else drives for a change?  The utter delight these things have brought my boys has been a sharp lesson.  All they need is love.  And the simplicity of my attention  Do they really need such a Dad?

amazon

An Anti-Orgasm.

Leaving your children with someone you don't like can give you a feeling in the pit of your belly quite the opposite to that of an orgasm.  It took all my strength not to throw up or look back at this daunting sight - my two little boys and their father, playing together in a local park.

 'Shitty's' 'contact' has to be supervised.  He is not allowed to be alone with the children - due mainly to his ugly temper, but also because he regularly threatened to commit suicide, so a good friend has offered to take over what I had previously been doing by chaperoning them.

Frankly, he was using every other week-end - when his visits took place - to harangue me and then it all came to a head in January which resulted in me punching him.  That had a been 'a long time coming,' said a friend, who was so used to me in tears that she doesn't even know the real me.  I'm not sure I do any more, but there's a good reason you don't see many divorced couples out together with their children on too regular a basis!

The trouble with egotistical maniacs is that they are who they are and nothing you do or try to say to them (because they won't listen) will enter their magical little worlds, in which they are all that matter!  By gracing you with their very presence, one is supposed to be enormously (i.e. erroneously) grateful, but it doesn't necessarily start out like that, nor does their contempt for us all show its face in public very often, if they can help it.

'Shitty' looks like a brilliant father to the children when we are out of the house.  He also used to be pleasant to me too.  Shame on him.

I don't care who knows I hate him.

Anyway, am getting the hang of importing photos over to this blog - to make it appear less wordy and more beautiful - although it is something still defeating me, but according to those in spiritual circles all our needs are met, so please watch this space.  Some help might appear!

In the mean time, here is the second of my still-to-be-re-named 'Diaries of  Middle Aged Single Mum,' written Spring 2009, and, goodness me, we have moved on many moons and miles, it is a wonderful relief to see!  Another anti-orgasm is due this Saturday.

Column 2 - Eating Standing Up!   

Reality...

‘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, along with the sleep deprived nights and subsequent requirement derived for many snacks just to keep going.

My cooking skills are not awful.  It is important to give decent grub to my family, so I make the effort as often as possible to produce fresh and natural, nutritionally packed, balanced meals, but sometimes it is out of the question.  We have some lazy nights, the odd take-away, plus stuff for the kids’ social standing, so that they will fit in with their peers.  Robson, once, was left playing on his own at a party when the ‘Wotsists’ were handed round, because he didn’t know what they were.  Mortified, this was speedily remedied!

We are not obsessive, but aware of what is good for us and we have discovered that lightning will not strike us down, should we deter more often than is truly necessary from the ideal.

The trouble is, nowadays, practically everything is done one handed, standing up with a baby upon one shoulder or hip.  The term ‘multi-tasking’ like this takes on a new meaning.  So when the opportunity arises to complete those pesky jobs which require more than one working arm i.e. when the baby is sleeping, they must be completed adroitly, for this time will be short comparative to what needs to be accomplished – for example, food preparation with sharp implements and its necessary eating, sorting washing and washing up, together with the incessant clearing up.  It is not intentional to eat standing up, just more convenient.  The mess generated by a four year old looking for attention can sometimes be astonishing and much of it remains where it lays (long enough to take root) as Baby Aiden becomes heavier, because it usually involves a great deal of crouching.

Like the gardening, ironing remains a fantasy, but never mind. 

High points:  1) Making a Love Sandwich with the boys in the mornings – all of us lying in bed together, someone in the middle.  2) Robson blowing raspberries on Baby Aiden’s tummy, both giggling their little hearts out, while - as a mere onlooker - mine swells with pride and a joy waltzes through me that I have never known, allowing utter exhaustion to be momentarily entirely eliminated. 3) Doing nothing at a friend’s house.  She made lots of tea and cooked dinner while I didn’t move.  Have never in my life had such a good time just sitting down.  What a revelation. 

Low point:  Estranged husband regularly standing in the kitchen with his willy out.

Seeing as he pays for the services of our weekly cleaner, for whom gratitude knows no bounds every moment of every hour almost, every single day, it seems churlish to mention it.  I am trying to stay on his good side, so make polite conversation despite the offending gesture, which is neither acknowledged nor discussed and, eventually, it disappears.   

Fantasy...

Anyway, back to more normal people, a friend of mine moved to America a couple of years ago, with her two young boys.  She had been a single parent for quite some time, met the man of her dreams and, after some considerable soul searching, decided to go.  The mountains of dishes stacked up in her sink were often shocking.  If I knew then, what I know now and should it be possible to turn back the clock to when visiting her, my sleeves would have been rolled up and the job always cheerfully done.  It would have cost me nothing but goodwill and time.  Plus, I would have taken and prepared food, made sure she sat down while she ate it, picked up any shopping she needed on the way, sometimes taken the kids out to give her some respite or perhaps just kept her company more often. 

I realise now how hard it must have been for her and how she was relishing every moment with her children, but lately, when my naturally regretful thoughts turn towards her and her new situation, so vastly and incredibly different, it makes me wonder what miracles, surprises and mysterious moves of Fate might be in store for us!  Baby Aiden’s arrival is all of these three combined, as is the simple pleasure of sitting down to eat, ever since!    

Read Diary 1 HERE.

Read Diary 3 HERE.

Read Diary 4 HERE.