5 words I hate just now

Where are you working now?

Hated because I am not working. Hated because I don't feel I'm a full member of society. Hated because I'm not earning money which makes me feel more independent.

Hated because I've been waiting for a qualification to be updated so I can continue on learning. Hoping this will lead to a new job but reading regularly how those over 50 have some of the highest rates of unemployment in the country.

It's making me antsy. It's boring being out of work especially when the kiddo is at school.  But I'm thankful that I got to spend time with her this summer since the last two have been a manic juggling act of clubs, reliance on granny and Mr P.M. taking time off at a different time to me.
I've been thankful that I was able to spend some time in London with my dad / take some pressure off my brothers albeit for a very short time.

Feeling depressed and telling Mr P.M. that "I've not had a good day" - but getting no help. He can't help - he's working, he's happy, he thinks life is just dandy.

Feeling depressed as the gin looks rather appealing now. But with alcoholism in the family, that's not a route I'm going down.

Feeling utterly disgusted with myself as I had a job but I blew it. Was not the right job but I should have just sucked it up.

I know I will work again. I had a few days work over summer teaching in a kids' camp which was absolutely brilliant. And I'm studying again (yippee for books).

BUT....
I am not working now.

Please don't ask me again as you can tell, it's affecting my mental well being but really you aren't allowed to talk about that in case a potential employer sees.

Nothing compares to you.

Death has been very much on my mind of late. Partly due to the calls I get from Social Services in London about Dad (they are idiots who have been told time and time again that I live over 500 miles away and should, in the first instance, contact my brothers). Partly as I am getting close to the age my Mum was when she died. It's an odd sensation every time I look at her picture where she never ages, whereas my reflection in the mirror is lined and grayer.

Partly because a dear old colleague recently told us that he has pancreatic cancer and is unlikely to last the year. That was a shocker out of the blue.

And then there are the celebrities who are dying. This year has been relentless and we are only into April. Now I didn't know them personally. Their deaths have not hit me in the same way as that of a family member or friend. But the grief is still real because it is grief for what was and can never be again. Some of the ones that have passed this year formed the backdrop to my life growing up - they were the soundtrack to my lifelong love of music and comedy. I defy anyone to claim that The Ballad of Barry and Freda is not some of the finest songwriting there is. Or that hearing the latest Bowie release was not thrilling. We won't get that again.

And as they pass, I find myself increasingly in a world that is just memories. The artists of today cannot measure up to these.

In 1988 I was very lucky to go to Wembley stadium to see Michael Jackson perform. It was a great concert. But a month later I saw Prince at Wembley Arena and I was blown away. I've been wearing purple ever since.

The 7 year old chugger in our midst

Righto, this post is going to be a bit odd (read hypocritical) bearing in mind the last one I just uploaded but I need to get it off my chest.
Since my kid started primary school there have been quite a few times where we as parents are asked to donate money - cake sales, spring/christmas/summer fairs, magicians coming in, kids going off to plays, kids going off to museums, kids reading aloud, kids dressing up, kids growing flowers. There are even sponsorship forms for her to get more people roped in which is hard as we do not have any close friends or relatives in the town. The requests are endless. This year seems to have been particularly bad as there has been one request after another for donations. The final straw was yesterday when we found a letter in her bag asking for £6 for a Roman day - a guy is going to come in dressed like a Roman and show the kids a lot about Romans.
I am so glad we only have one child as if we had more, there is no way we could afford all these constant requests for money. And when at the teacher evening last night, we asked kiddo's teacher what happens to the kids whose parents don't pay, the teacher had no response. Which implies that they expect all the parents to pay. I know for a fact that some of the parents are struggling financially and this is pressure that they will not need. I also know it's these parents who will try their hardest to find the money.
Whilst I don't want my daughter to miss out on any activities I'm not really sure that turning her into a chugger is teaching her anything about charitable giving. For e.g. kiddo now hates all Cancer charities except McMillan as that's the one the school supports. We have tried to make her understand that is a poor view but she's adamant that that charity is the best one.
Up until now the dosh has come out of our pockets. So we are now going to start telling her the donations should come partly from her pocket money - so the next time she brings home a letter asking for a donation she will also have to cough up (and yes, I know that's ultimately us paying as we are the ones supplying the dosh but there is a lesson to be learnt here dammit). Hopefully that will open up a discussion on when it's best to give, and when it's best to just say no.

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, he said, BUT I COULD MURDER A CURRY.

Rest in peace Sir P. Thanks for all the laughs.

10 years...

10 years ago I was

• Single
• 6 months into a job as a designer (though my title was Research Engineer!)
• Travelling up to 3 hours a day to get to my job
• Living back in London, with Dad, saving up to buy a house
• A person with a very healthy bank balance
• A person with the freedom to do whatever the fuck I wanted
• Lonely

Today I am

• The person who cried in an office where I work part time doing a job that I wasn't hired to do, in too few hours
• A mother who resents her child who didn't ask to be born, because I gave up work for her. 

I don't know what happened. No I lie, I do know but I am still confused. I met a man, we decided we wanted a baby, he proposed, I accepted, baby got cut out by skilled doctors and life changed forever. In the last 7 years I have moved house 5 times. I hate moving house. I hated the second move out of London to be near people who didn't visit us. I hated the fourth move as I love London and had even come to love Plumstead and didn't want leave. 

Thing is we were parents who decided that one of us should stay at home with the kid while the other worked. Having grown up with two working parents, and being married to a man who had had a stay at home mum - I was convinced that it was a good choice. So we decided he would stay home, while I worked. 

Thing is I started to breastfeed and I wanted to carry on breastfeeding. But I couldn't figure out how I could do this, where I would store my milk, how I would get back to my baby should she need me if I had to commute an hour and half each way, each working day. I couldn't bear to leave her. So we changed plans, he went to work and I stayed home

Thing is Mr Plummy was made redundant and we again moved up here, over 200 miles away. The first time we lived in Scotland sucked (see 2nd move above). But this time, we moved to the shitiest place I had ever lived and I became very ill (doctors couldn't figure it out, but I think it was due to crippling loneliness).

Thing is I come from a family of women who have been let down by their husbands. My mum, my paternal grandmother and my maternal grandmother - all had husbands who let them down. The lesson was that I must never ever rely on a man, I must always work. 

Thing is I like to work. No scratch that, I need to work. I loved being one of the first girls in my family to get a degree (and the only child in my family of 3 boys and 1 girl) and after quite a few years of shite jobs, finally becoming a designer. I was so proud of myself. 

Thing is. I love my daughter. She's amazing. It wasn't always easy and there were times I locked myself in a room to stop myself yelling at her. But being with her and helping her transition through 5 house moves was important. We know we did good - teachers tell us they can tell that she has a home parent by her behaviour and command of language. Its not often a parent gets compliments, I gobble them up when they come our way.  

Thing is my husband is not like my dad or my grand-dads. 

Thing is while kiddo is at school I got bored. And that old niggle - the pride of being someone in paid employment started to really bug me

So I did a course on nutrition and started teaching small groups. But the hours weren't enough and were too few. And then there is all this conflicting evidence on what is good nutrition anyway?

So I looked for and found a part time office job. In Edinburgh. Joy was me. I'd go in and be all Mary Tyler Moore walking along Princes Street. Yes,  there were days I was bored but I would just skip off to Jenners toy and yarn departments after work and be happy. I still had the other job for the rewarding challenging stuff so it was all OK.  

Thing is my job changed because there were changes in our head office, people were shifted about and I was asked to take on a new set of duties. Ones I would never have applied to do. I hate it. I am not proud of what I do. I hate going to work and today I ended up in tears in front of one of the managers. 

I want to leave but I know at my age, I will never be given another job again. So I'm stuck. I am so ashamed that I cried. I am so frustrated that there is little opportunity to find part time work around my kid's school hours. And I'm so ashamed that I didn't stand my ground 7 years ago, and demand better conditions so that I could continue a role I was proud of. 

Thing is I love my daughter. I am so proud of who she is and have marvelled at everything she has learnt and I don't know how much I would have missed if I had been at work. 

10 years from now I plan on being in a better place than I am now. I just don't know what the fuck that will be and how the heck I will get there. But I'll be damned proud when I make it. 

Beggars and bagpipes and stuff

There are things you cannot get away from in Edinburgh. Some I think about too much.

Beggars
There are beggars on the street. Whenever I've visited the city (including  years before we moved to Scotland), I've seen the beggars on the streets. In London it was a common sight when I was growing up but I never got used to them. And the ones in Edinburgh are ever present. There is one on Princes Street who sits with a cupboard piece claiming he wasn't a druggie/alcoholic - the same sign as he has been showing for years. It's remarkably pristine.
There is the East European woman who sometimes sits outside the station cup in hand. And there is the one who claims he is a ex-soldier, with a noble expression, his service record readily available for anyone to see.
One very rare morning, I found his stuff in it's usual place but no soldier beggar in site.

He was back the next day, glasses perched on his nose while he read a book and waited for people to put money in his hat.
Ironically this part of the street is also where the Jesus lovers stand all day with their leaflets about the love of god blah blah blah.

As Fringe begins the number of beggars ramps up. Somedays I pretend they are spies for the local police keeping an eye on the people around the streets. I will give money to the street artists like the man that carves a dog sculpture out of sand, or the Big Issue sellers s and to the local homeless charities.

Bagpipes - early morning starts mean that I don't hear bagpipes when I am in the City. But by the time I go home the drone of the pipes is in the air delighting the tourist. Most often polluting it with the same old tunes. But every now again, usually a young piper, plays something different and then I will stop and listen. They rarely have the US or Japanese tourists around them at this time which is a bonus.
More street music that I enjoy are the south american band that often joyfully play outside Jenners or M&S, or the flautist who plays modern pop song tunes outside the station.

Anyhooo, I haven't forgotten my aim to make sure I always look at the Castle and never forget it's there. Sometimes though ...that's hard! And in foggy weather, I hope that I don't trip over a person whilst looking up at the amazing buildings around.

My best friend is Muslim

My best friend is Muslim. She's a normal person. We first met at a north west London school 35 years ago when she sat at the desk in front of me cos her surname began with an "A" and mine with a "B".

When mindless idiot men do something so utterly horrific as hack another human being to death in the name of her religion, it makes me angry and also very, very afraid for her. Afraid that some idiot will do something to her as she's got a headscarf on.
I've already lost an old school friend to that type of utter scum idiot - I truly do not want to lose another. I condemn such savagery, as all decent human beings do.

And my heart goes out that a son has lost his father, a wife her husband, sisters their brother, a mother and father his son.

Budgetting

I'm grappling with a course assignment at the moment - I have to work out a week's menu for a  family of four with a budget of just over £36. The course I'm on is all about healthy eating, so the menu has to show that even on that low a budget you can eat healthily. I've been working on it for about two weeks now and it's been interesting trying to work out the right balance of meals. It's messing with my head as a vegetarian as I'm recommending meat and fish meals.
This year I have felt the pinch made worse by my guilt for not having earned any money for nearly six years. A few large bills (repairs on the car, repairs to the house due to the rain last year) and it's tipped us over the edge of being comfortable, to having to watch our pennies. But even so, we are not struggling so much that we have to give up all treats - it's relative isn't it what a struggle is for one family compared to another. We treat ourselves with food but we won't be going on a holiday abroad this year (or probably the next). I know that most of our bills are over £40 for food a week and there are only 3 of us. Shockingly, this is with a mostly vegetarian diet and home-cooked meals. I would dread to think what our bill would be if we ate more meat, bought more processed meals and ordered a take out out more than once a month.
As part of the course I've been volunteering on some cooking courses - I come across people who are much less fortunate than me and who are going to struggle even more when the benefit changes come in. It is so shocking that in 21st century Britain, families are starving. The thing is, these are not lazy benefit scroungers. Some are in this position due to the lack of employment, living in areas where there is less choice in terms of food outlets, others due to learning difficulties or mental health issues.
Then there are those that never learnt to cook well - didn't have parents to teach or inspire them. I am grateful that both my parents taught me about food in their own way. I'm obsessive about food - watching lots of shows, poring over recipe books, wandering around supermarkets and markets looking for new foods and for bargains so that I can try something out. I'm lucky.
I hope we don't have any other large bills as I fear it would catapulted us over the edge of being comfortable into the realm of scrimping and I wouldn't be able to feed my obsession which would really mess with my head.

Working from home

So the new CEO of Yahoo Marisa Mayers, wants to stop all working from home. We should applaud her for having a baby and returning to work in no time at all.
Sorry, what was I writing....we should be appalled that she had a baby and returned to work in no time at all! Mind you, I'm sure she has a help with the kid, something that's not available to all people with Yahoo.
Of course, if she improved access to childcare (either onsite or with flexible working) then that's a different matter. Then I would go back to applauding her.
In the days I worked in the technology industry, I used to feel it was something hated by HR staff, or by  managers who didn't trust their staff, or those who felt their importance was measured by the size of their teams and so had to be visible to all (trophy designers...I like that!) were the ones who were not keen on working from home. It doesn't suit all industries nor all people...some people like structure of the office rather than having the  discipline  to work from home. I didn't want to do it all the time as designs ideas benefit from being bounced off colleagues (and even the odd sofware engineers) and yes, I do agree with the Yahoo CEO that a meeting can be a lot quicker when it's done face to face. But when you had to concentrate on something and had to have a deadline to meet, working in an open plan office with constant interruptions was not ideal.
Then there is the costs to think about - transports costs for your staff getting to work or getting to other offices for that face to face meeting, office costs for housing them all, meeting room space that has to be found. I used to resent the travel time to work as it was less time get stuck into work. And at the end of the day, resented the time to get home and have a life. And while meetings can be faster face to face, there is also the lost time wasted  chitchatting which I found did not happen as much in remote working.
I wonder how the policy will play out. I know that HR managers around the world must be dancing with glee in the hope that the policy sticks.

Oh no, Taleo

A few weeks ago, I spent an agonising day filling in a job application using a HR programme called Taleo (talent acquisition system). To say it was painful is an understatement. It's suffers from very poor usability and is very inaccessible to those with disabilities...which is ironic as the post I was applying for was for a Usability and Accessibility specialist. I think part my issues were multifaceted:

1. I needed to fill in the same information in a few different ways. It was annoying. Even when they let you upload your own formatted CV, the system still insisted on a plain text CV. Why enable the former if the system demands the latter?
2. It took a lot of time to fill in all the form boxes. I'm lucky that I was able to take a day to do it - a busier (perhaps more qualified) person would not. I must admit there were a few points where I just decided to jack it in but I kept going
3. According to some reviews I read online, the applicant may be very suitable but if they do not put in the right buzzwords, they will not pass the TALEO phase of applying for the role. Now I realise this is not an issue unique to the TALEO system - even a paper based applications has to contain the right language to appeal to the recruiter.
4. It feels very impersonal - I wasn't sure when, if ever, a human would read my application. Two weeks later I was lucky to receive a rejection email - some companies that use the system do not bother with this courtesy. I am still not overly convinced a human has been involved in that decision but there is no way I will ever know as I never talked to a human about this job.

My biggest issue is that I know after taking 5 years out to raise my child, that it is going to be very difficult to find any job in today's recession, let alone one in design or usability. It was bloody hard when I was single and very single-mindedly driven about my career to get my ideal position. I know in retrospect that when I took the decision not to return to work that I should have kept my hand in doing freelance work. Hindsight is a wonderful thing huh...shame it's not a buzzword that robotic HR personnel deem important. 

Loss of Innocence

“Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone. I know that's impossible, but it's too bad anyway.”
Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger


The horrific events that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown brought this quote to mind. I am not a fan of the novel at all but it does encapsulate how the main character feels about being forced to be more adult-like and mature. He grieves for the loss of his own innocence. The Newtown community who survived the attack last week are going to be faced with this too - forced in the most sickening way to face what a shite world they live in - that the facade of affluent America is hiding a broken society which has laws that make no sense to me. I cannot understand how despite the stats on people killed by guns, the Americans hold onto the Second Amendment - put it in a glass case and refuse to change it. The right to bear arms. What about the right to live without fear? Why did a primary school teacher feel the need to own 3 guns? If she had not had them, would her son, Adam Lanza,  have been able to commit the crimes?

So I shake my head. we have cried watching the events unfold and cried when we read the list of names of those that died empathising with the parents who lost their kids (both the children and adults). Over the weekend, my kiddo has put up with me suddenly grabbing her, kissing her and telling her I love her. I hope that she always knows that, no matter where she is or what happens in life. And I will always sing to her. 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
How I wonder what you are!

Many kisses for  Charlotte, Daniel, Rachel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jessie, James, Grace, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Benjamin, Jessica and Allison

A flower by any other name

Today my daughter wore a poppy in her hair. She likes to have poppies. Last year at nursery the kids were told that people wear poppies to remember soldiers. But she's 5 and she still doesn't understand. Poppies are just a flower to her - a pretty one that her Granny likes to wear. Her Granny knows what the poppy means.One day she will understand. We will tell her that the World Wars were fought by brave soldiers (including Scots and Indians) so that we could enjoy the freedom we have today.  I may be a pacifist but I thank those soldiers who died so I could choose to be.

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Edmund Burke

Falling at the first hurdle

Well kiddo is happy in school and I find myself with time on my hands. Some of this is taken up doing a course with the council that encourages healthy eating. But the rest of the time, when not doing housework (i.e. a lot of time), I've been looking for a job.
I've just done an online application for a mobile phone company to work in one of their stores. My answers indicated that I am not the kind of person they are looking for. I have lots of retail experience, used to regularly meet my sales targets and I used to work in the phone industry. The application didn't get that as far as that - I fell at the hurdle of an online scenario stuff. So my experience is entirely irrelevant.

This is not the first one I've done.

I'm a bit crushed now.
I'm kicking myself for giving up my job 5 years ago. Yes, my kiddo benefited from having me at home. Yes, this was a parenting choice we made as a couple. Yes, my hubby went on to get a great job with a good employer. Yes, I have learnt so much in those 5 years and have grown in a more rounded person.
I'm kicking myself for not having had a career plan 5 years ago (brain was a bit addled with new baby etc. but really that's not an excuse).
I'm kicking myself for not doing accountancy like my parents wanted me to do.
I'm kicking myself for not having skills that will make me an ideal candidate for the jobs out there.

I have experience. I have an education. I made the "mistake" of wanting to stay home to care for my child.

I'm locking the gin away as it's starting to look rather appealing and that's a really bad thing when it's not even 11am.

I have time on my hands. I'm going to put the kettle on, and get a biscuit. Chocolate really does make everything better. 

I know that I will eventually find a job that suits me and my employer. I have hope. I feel for those who have no experience, no education, no hope.

This Little Light of Mine

My kid has been coming home from nursery singing snippets of a gospel song. And like a little worm, it's niggled into my brain and keeps popping up at odd times.
She only sings the chorus. It occurred to me that it's a Christian Gospel song so for a wee bit I felt odd singing it. But you know what....
In the last week I have found out that 3 people dear to me are ill...1 with a year long cold that has caused her to develop asthma, my bro with a year long cold that included a bout of pneumonia and a dear cousin who has got breast cancer. When I talk to some creative friends they tell me they are having trouble finding their mojo (my words not theirs) and generally people are down. Myself including. I'm getting depressed reading about the state of our education system and worried that our kids will not have jobs in the distant future (and me in the near future).
It's just so damn draining.
I miss that silly snippet of good news you used to get at the end of News at Ten.
So despite my not being a Christian, I've started singing a truncated version of the song at all hours of the day, and some of the night too.
It cheers me up. It reminds me that inside me there is a core of happiness and I'm going to let that shine.
In case you want to join in my virtual rock choir here is my truncated version. Hand-clapping is entirely optional:

This little light of mine
I'm going to let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm going to let it shine,
Let it shine
Let it shine
LET IT SHIIIIIINE

Hide it under a bushel? No!
I'm going to let it shine

Hide it under a bushel? No!
I'm going to let it shine


Let it shine
Let it shine
LET IT SHIIIIIIIINE



However, if you prefer something a bit more disco then how about a snippet from the late great Donna Summer. A very positive sentiment. Imagine the "him" is that bad news negative little sod that sits on your shoulder telling you that you can't do it.
Enough, is enough, is enough
I can't go on, I can't go on no more no
enough, is enough, is enough
I want him out, I want him out that door now

Closer to 50

A few weeks ago was my 45th birthday. Now I'm closer to 50 than 40. I don't get it as when I think of myself, I am either 13 or maybe at a push 20. I'm never 30, 35, 40 and definitely not 45.
I'm trying not to have a mid life crisis (yes, I assume I shall live to 90). I definitely thought I would be "sorted" by now, happy with myself. But it's hard with all the changes in the last five years....I have got married, had a kid, moved 5 times and given up my career and become someone who's life is devoted to others. Before this I earned loads, was respected at work, was able to go out when I wanted, see films, eat out, sleep late, meet mates, get drunk/hungover, buy anything I wanted (luckily didn't have really expensive tastes), have liaisons, have adult uninterrupted conversations. But at the end of the day I was lonely. I don't make friends easily - sometimes so shy but coming across as aloof. I worry that I have nothing interesting to say. It was easy to make friends at work as you had the shared domain.
Now I have two amazing people in my life that I love. And I'm much more creative now through the fogey old fashioned arts of knit, crochet and craft. I don't care. I love it. I do craft even when tot is not here. I love messing about with playdoh, paint, glue and most of all yarn. I meet some people through this and like talking to other crafters online.
In Plumstead, through playgroups and the nursery I met some lovely people. It's been a bit harder here. I have not made any friends in Scotland. In August tot goes to primary school - I'm really anxious about not being with my daughter so am going to look for some work.  I spoke to a mate the other day. She used to be a Chemical Engineer but since having kids her life changed. She is now a mum but also a bereavement counsellor and working in the NHS on cancer screening programmes. She gave me some advice about finding work...to volunteer at the school, to look for opportunities. She also told me to make friends with other mums on the playground.
I will do that. Cos I'm 45 and I'm sorted. Err....

Job hunting

I applied for a job last week. Second job application in 5 years. It was for a temporary weekend role - working both Saturday and Sunday for 6 months, 9 to 5.  I did my best to tailor my c.v. as you do. Haven't heard anything yet. There aren't that many jobs to apply for around here and even fewer for a parent that has to be there for her kid when she gets home from nursery. I don't really want to pay for a childminder to look after her especially as what I would be paid for part-time work would just go straight into the hands of the childminder. However, in order to get more recent experience on my c.v. that's what I might have to do. I hate not having worked for so long. In August things should get a bit easier as little one goes off to primary school. It's also easier now we are living in the same town that Mr Plummy works in as he can help with school drop offs/picks up and emergencies. This latter has been the thing that worries me most - if I go to work, and there is an emergency at the school, who could pick up the little one. Sometimes it sucks to live so far from family and friends.
Can you tell that this is making me a bit antsy?

Justice

For a certain generation of Londoners, the name Stephen Lawrence is rather powerful. What happened to him is the only reason I knew where Plumstead and Eltham were before I moved to the area - a large reason for my reluctance to do so. I cannot imagine how I would react as a mother if my child had been murdered and then his death had been handled in such a shameful way.
The names Doreen and Neville Lawrence are familiar to anyone who followed the case. However, it is Doreen who was perhaps the better known as she was often the one in public. Last night, we watched the Panorama documentary following Mrs Lawrence in the last year. I was surprised as I expected her to be some political animal [a la Bonfire of the Vanities] but that's not how she came across. In many ways, she is just an ordinary woman. And that's part of the tragedy - the Lawrences were just ordinary British people who's lives were torn apart in the most horrific way and who were propelled into the limelight to get justice in the most extraordinary way.
I hope that the verdicts give Doreen some peace and a few good nights sleep -  I imagine she will need that strength to continue the fight for complete justice for her son.

Making a list...

1. All presents bought and wrapped

• Check. Near 100% fandabby doozy success with online stuff. Only bad purchase was a t-shirt for yours truly that arrived in skinny size. I'm not a skinny but I got a 100% refund so no loss. I also, in supermum mode, did a quick run around the supermarket this morning for last minute bits. I was back home at 10.30 as they were relatively quiet. 

2. Food ready

• Check. We did an online shop and everything arrived. This year my sister-in-law and I are doing the veg. I can't wait as I love a freshly roasted tattie

4. Stockings done

• Check. Oh I've been in supercraft mode today making my own stocking. Its red, it's got pompoms and glitter and it's going to be filled with pre-BIG EVENT goodies! 

5. Nativity seen

• Check and check. The kids did a supercute one at nursery. And of course, my little one was the only Angel sucking her thumb but my gawd, she was cute in her outfit as were all the other little ones.
• We then went to the nativity at my husband's church. As religion is so important to his family, I want to make sure she sees what it is about before she decided herself what to believe. Again, the kids were supercute but my little one was not happy. Poor kid has ended up with a huge cold and has been miserable all week. 

6. Nursery finished

• Check. Last day of term was on Wed with a Xmas party and Santa - tot would not go anywhere near him as she tends to stay away from strangely dressed men. I was surprised when the Head got rather tearful whilst asking that each of us spends at least 5 mins a day listening and being with our children. Hubby and I spend a lot of time with my child - she's a delight as all children are if they are allowed to be. We do a lot together and I know that we are lucky that we can do so. I hope that no parents are ever too busy to spend a mere 5 mins with their kids. And if the kids are in foster care, I hope the government, social workers, potential adopters and foster carers all get it sorted out so that more than 60 out of 3600 kids are adopted next year in England - frankly, it's a disgrace as those kids have already been let down before and deserve a second chance at a great life.  

7. On the 12th day, move. 

• Well not done yet, but we are planning to move to Livingston. At the moment we are just going through reference checks which IMHO are a complete rip off. We already paid £60 each when we moved to Larbert and now we are paying £90 each as part of the move to Livingston. I never went through reference checks when I was renting in the 90s. I just had to show some paychecks and that was it. It's just another way for estate agents to rip off people and is yet another barrier to people moving to where the work is. Unfortunately, it's a damned if we do, damned if we don't. If we don't move, we will continue to spend far too much on petrol and continue to live in a place which I have not warmed to. If we move, we have to pay to move but in the long run save money and also see hubby more. And the big plus for me is that we will be that much closer to Edinburgh - yippeeeee!!!!

8. Sort out my health

• Ongoing. I haven't had any pain attacks since my trip to the hospital. I've been super careful about what I eat though I could do with exercising more. Next Wednesday, I have an ultrasound which should help find out whether I've got some stones. Sounds mad but I cannot wait as at least I'll know where I stand then and can make a positive plan to deal with it.

All in all, it's going to be a fun few weeks. I hope yours will too and that you all have a lovely jubbly Xmas. 

This precious life

There are times where I wish the day would end, where boredom or a hard task makes me want to hurry the minute, hour or day away. There are times when I look forward to an event so much that I forget about living the days inbetween.
A few weeks ago, my aunt died. She had cancer but it was the survivable kind. It was her kidneys that gave out. Sad as she was a sweet lady. Even more so as she was the youngest sister of my uncle who passed away in June. I was feeling a bit emotional about it all which led to a sleepless night, which led to me looking on Facebook. Sometimes Facebook users suck. I found out from Facebook that another aunt's husband had died. But not any details. Normally I get a call from Dad with details.
The uncle who died had only just turned 40. He was a nice guy who married my aunt 14 years ago - one of the first mixed marriages in our family.
Over the coming days it emerged that he died whilst popping out on an errand on his motorbike. A freak fall off the bike and he banged his head on a lamp-post and died instantly. He's left my aunt and 2 very young cousins.
I can never get the "died instantly" - how can something that  is so ALIVE, so full of love, emotion, views and well, life get extinguished in an instant? There wasn't even a chance to say goodbye, for a last kiss with his wife and kids.
"Instant" sucks.
Facebook sucks.
I'm not wishing any more minutes away. 

Not crazy after all

For as long as I can remember, certain sounds have been able to send me into a boiling, murderous rage. The earliest one I can remember is the sound of my mum tearing up letters as I worried she was destroying important documents. I would imagine all sorts of horrors befalling her so that she would stop. It would take time to calm down once the trigger sound was gone which didn't improve our relationship much. Now the big trigger for me is the sound of people eating...but it's not all people, just my Dad eating. And then there is the banshee rage caused by anyone eating crisps loudly. The biggest crime in cinema history was when the lovely Phoenix cinema in East Finchley started selling kettle crisps...I mean COME ON how is one supposed to hear the film if there is some knob sitting next you munching on what are possibly the loudest crisps on this planet. Popcorn is just as bad. Thank goodness the NFT doesn't allow food inside their auditoriums (not much use to me now as I'm too far away). Another trigger is people fiddling endlessly with their hair...my husband does it and sometimes it makes me want to wait until the middle of the night where I would stealthily shave all the sodding stuff off and cut off all his fingers to boot.
My family thought I was an unreasonable crazy nut and just made more noise.
Well, now thanks to the power of the Internet, I have a name for my condition - misophonia. It's nice to know I'm not alone though thankfully, I don't have as many triggers as some of the people on there (and no, I'm not daft enough to share all the triggers). As of yet, there is no cure but once again, the Internet helps me feel that I'm not alone in my little oddities. Thing is, as the world become more crowded we are going to be coming across this condition more and more as there will just be no where to escape from the noise.