New Year, New Everything?

Our New Year's Day Walk 2011.

This time last year, I was a single mum and happy about it. New Year's Day was spent walking by the seafront with my two gorgeous young boys, me mentally giving thanks for my life.

Not in a sad way, I hadn't been unwell or anything.  Not physically, anyway, but mentally I had been battered, that's for sure.

My husband was a famous International Sportsman and quite a bully, looking back. He played Rugby for Wales, captained the Barbarians and generally thought himself a marvellous bloke.  He'd had me convinced for a few years too.

Then reality slowly, but sure as eggs is eggs, dawned.  That he wasn't at all marvellous.

In fact, he was a pig.

Anyway, my divorce yet to finalise, but well in its throes and his hold on me less and less as the months continued and my recovery underway on January 1st, the powers that be would have been surprised to hear me rattle off a whole list of sincere and big thankyous - for the peaceful existence we were now able to lead, the fun we could have without anyone's temper looming over us, the maintenance money he (then) paid (see here for what happened when he stopped!), our health, our ability to come and go as we pleased, our friends who had been (and remain still) serious lifelines, even just for having each other and time with other family members over Christmas, the glorious weather and the sleeping baby, giving the gift of rare one-on-one stuff with my eldest son, then only five, having seen and heard things he never should have and who needed the space we were encountering, also, to recover.

As our walking continued and the sun smiled down on us, so did the Fates. I didn't ask for much that day. It's kind of a New year ritual of mine to give thanks for the kindnesses, blessings and progress during the previous year and set out 'intentions' for the next. I think it was generally work related - something to do with writing, but it would be difficult to pinpoint exactly what, now. I certainly never mentioned the 'L' or 'B' ('Love' or 'Blogging') words!  They simply did not occur to me.

But in 2011 - unheralded and unexpectedly, the powers that be rewarded me for my patience, perseverance and courage and sent me Love in the form of a lodger, someone whose presence was forced upon us (see above), who the children and I already knew as a friend and for whom resistance would prove completely futile giving rise to my The Landlady is a Tramp post!

So this year, he has changed our lives completely with his presence, is a comfort and joy to me, and I am undoubtedly a more content mum for that, which only benefits the boys, surely?

Robson is now six and a half and 'Baby' Aiden will be three in April. I think I deserve something for me and the Fates have seemingly decreed so!

Blogging has been a wonderful surprise this year as well.  To 'meet' and engage with so many like minded people has been an absolutely divine pleasure - something else for me and I can't quite believe either of things have happened, let alone both!

So whatever 2012 holds for you, whenever you are feeling overwhelmed with 'stuff' and find yourself suffering  or, indeed, suffocating under it all, especially if you are a parent  - and not necessarily a single one - it is entirely possible that 'someone in the great somewhere hears every word.' May there be an incredible surprise or two in store for you too!

What's next, I wonder, for us all?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

OSM X

Versatile Blogger Award.

 

 



Well, thank you to Sarah at Older Mum for giving me this.  These are the so-called Rules:


1) Thank the person who tagged you. (Wish I was always so effficient).  

2) Share seven things about yourself that people don't already know.  (Have shocked myself with what I am about to reveal!)
3) Pass the award on to 15 /5 newly discovered blogs depending on who you read.  (Gonna struggle with that one 'coz am so behind everyone else...).


So.  Here we go.  Deep breath. Being brave. 


1)  I am illegitimate.
2)  I am half Indian.
3)  I am thinking of tracing my biological father, having been given the details of where he lived at the time.  My mother has given the green light.  Just keep losing my nerve and there's always so much else to do it doesn't seem a priority.  (Am interested in anyone else's stories, please).  


Bet you saw none of that coming.  Have surprised myself.  But, there we go, this is what blogging does for you.  It seems a safe place to reveal STUFF.  Other less interesting facts you will not know about me are:


4)  Michael Buble and I have a date every evening in my kitchen making dinner, where dancing with the children (if they can be bothered) is a must.  We like him very loud indeed while I partake in a glass of red just to take the edge off any murderous thoughts that might occur when bad table manners present themselves, which they do EVERY evening, despite my repeated guidance / moaning.  Why?  My children are not deaf or stupid. 


5)  Twenty years ago, I visited a Clairvoyant who told me that I would have money problems in my forties.  Seeing as I earned £100k p.a. at the time, this was seemingly ludicrous.  Anyway, having soon left my job, for various reasons, ploughed everything I had into my own home, become a SAHM to two children who had not arrived until I was 41 and 45 and I wasn't going anywhere without them if I could help it, then kicked out my Shitty Husband,, only to be informed by my him that 'The Well is Dry' and he would no longer be paying maintenance for them, she has been proved correct!

6)  I am really quite psychic myself - on a good day (!) - and don't always pay attention, but have chronicled the journey from superbly paid Money Broker and lurch into the (fantastic) world of Natural Medicine and Healing, in a book that covers a period of several years' intellectually intriguing exploration of it all (and I wonder where my money went!).  Several newspapers and magazines interviewed me and I did a tiny bit of tv.  In light of 5) above, I should probably dust it down and try to flog it.  Any tips / help / contacts gratefully received.     


7)  I received many 'insights' when having my two children about life in general, being a mother, and for peace and happiness, which are also written down and might one day make it into one of those tiny books for the downstairs loo.  Not forgetting those 'Diaries of an Older Single Mum - the first few ones appear on my earliest posts, I ought to get on with it all.  Who knew I had it in me?  What seemed so possible once has been wrecked through sleep deprivation and becoming an Older Single Mum!


If Fate can deliver my two children (who showed themselves to me in my dreams before they came), then do you reckon it hasn't all been a waste of time and that 'Someone will come to show the way,'     
as per my recent contribution to the Music as Therapy Meme? 


I am tagging the amazingly and consistently funny Katy at All Sweetness and Life
The fabulous Polly at Caughtwriting,
The wonderful Crystal Jigsaw
The brilliant Boo and me and More than a Mum from Love New Blogs 
The inimitable Mummy Clay at 12hourstobedtime, 

Is Life Like a Sat. Nav. Drive?

Are we guided - spiritually or otherwise - when we go off our course?  I think so.

We all have feelings inside that guide us.  They start of as little messages - or 'intuitions,' even 'inner-tuitions' it could be suggested, like whispers. Then they become louder as we veer further and even vastly off our course.

It is the hardest thing in the world to be true to yourself.  People fear what they don't know and nobody knows how we truly feel.

I agree that our outlook is, or can be, heavily influenced by our upbringing, that we can inherit fears and phobias and attitudes, small or worldly minds and loves and hates, but those little inklings inside, perhaps aspiring to better / different things, our individual loathings and passions that we might be afraid to voice and things that just don't feel right or, indeed, draw us to them, belong to us alone and we should own them.

We have recently returned from Nottingham and it was a pleasure to use a Sat. Nav. for the first time, having borrowed it from a lovely friend who helps with everything now and then and who kept us company for the long journey.  It would be a physical impossibility or plain stupid to attempt to travel with two young children such as mine - and the distractions naturally occurring - without a companion and we used this marvellous tool for the nitty gritty bits around the city itself.

Its gentle and polite corrections amid the duration it took me to learn to pay proper attention were quite touching.  I reckon the nice lady talking could have told me to 'turn around as soon as possible' at any point after age 16, the end of my school days, because my life went all downhill from there.  It was deemed 'not enough' for me to be a Nurse, by other people, yet, inside, there was a yearning they were not able to feel.

So working in a Bank was miserable and a disaster from day one.  Not to mention boring.  It was just not me.  Did I pay attention?  Not really.  Was I brought up to be true to myself?  Was I Heck.

It is a common reality for most of us, to be on the wrong path, to please other people and to be gently guided from within, slowly albeit sometimes, back to ourselves.

Fate..?

Now from the outside, my life looked fabulous.  I ended up earning a fortune, travelling frequently, driving a flash car and generally throwing my weight about among the big shots in London's Financial Markets.  Yes, all very glamorous to those onlookers who had no idea it nearly killed me.

It would come as no surprise, however, years later, to those who knew me better, when I gave it all up and went looking for something more meaningful and eventually discovered my gift as a Spiritual Healer.  This took enormous courage and was very lonely for a long time, but, at least I did it, penned a book about it all (which is still in progress) and, ultimately, found out more about me than anyone else could ever tell me.  It is a form of helping people akin to Nursing, it would not be unreasonable to suppose.

Nowadays it is much more mainstream than I ever could have originally dreamed was possible.  It made me feel more whole, despite the uphill concept and struggles to contend with, not least other peoples' opinions.  It  never ceases to amaze me how differently people treat you when you're dressed in a suit and high heels as opposed to what I wear as an older single mum.  Never. Really.

So.  Is life like a Sat. Nav?  Are we drawn back to who we are supposed to be, to fulfil our potential, to do what we came to do?

Is it mapped out, or 'written?'  Is there a blueprint, like those in spiritual circles believe?  Heaven only knows!

It seems my Nursing days would have been over by now, because my writing work has taken over since having children.  It is not unfeasible or inconceivable that a teaching element would be appropriate on any path  at my time of life.  Would my two lovely boys have come earlier?  And not been subjected to a divorce, if heed had been paid to my gut plan?

We are driven by instinct, when we pay attention.  There is a potent force pulling us in a direction that is right for us.  There are millions of us who put blind faith in a complete stranger's voice, yet, within our soul, indeed, by its very essence, we all possess a mightily more powerful one of our own.

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.