Daydream in Blue.

I've got lots to tell you, about recent things that have occured Here. I have a post part done- I'll try and get it on here soon! Its not that I think you're all sitting on the egde of your seats waiting for it, far from that, just that I'd like to spruce the place up a bit on my blog, cheer it up a little. It will be a post of positive things, nice doings and pleasant memories. I need those a bit at the moment,

I'm good at daydreaming. I suppose really, my daydreaming at the moment could also fall into the categories of sulking and worrying. Yes, I can do the wallowy woe-is-me bit, but its the 'action' or 'plan' part I'm a bit stinky at. But hey, if you can't write these musings out here then where else do they go? And hopefully once they're written and in some kind of coherant order, I might be able to sift through it and make sense of whats occuring- get it into perspective.

So life is still a bit poo really, and I'm not myself. I have painful headaches and regular nosebleeds- sinus problems I think, and problems sleeping. Its been like this for a couple of months. I'm off to the doctors again on Wednesday, I guess they might have some more ideas now that I've tried the current prescription and the symptoms remain.
What else? Well more trouble from the usual quarters, and I'm afraid its running me down. I'm finding that I'm fighting against becoming a sad little blob who mopes about in front of daytime TV, feeling blue and lack-lustre.

source

I haven't been seeing the fella as much as I'm used to, because work has gone all crazy again for him. Well... I have to admit that this concerns me, my inability to keep myself positive, without outside help, or, really, company. I've been all pro-'dating' and 'living apart' from the beginning. I don't think its because on every level I'm happy with the prospect of being a person who exists aside from her boyfriend, but its because I felt I needed to be able to deal with life myself, and for it to be the three of us- me, Pickle Missy and Little Guy, looking after each other. Thats why I wanted to do it. Its hard.

I was hoping that we were working towards the stage where one day we might decide to move in. If I can't look after my own happiness and wellbeing at this stage, I doubt that will be happening for a good while. Which is fine- I'm not being defensive- it is fine. I set myself the task if you like, of proving I could channel my inner Beyonce, and be self-sufficient, and I must do better at this before I can build a decent relationship with this man. It just happens that until we are together, living in the same place, I'll have to accept the weeks that we see so little of each other, because of the distance.
It would be all too easy to cheer up if he was here. In the absence of my besties, and my family, the children and he are all I have to make me smile. And the children do make me smile, but when they are at school and nursery, and when they are in bed, and when they are with their dad, I feel lonely as a lonely person in lonelytown... you get the idea.

How much easier it would be to re-boot myself, into some kind of emotionally-semi-functioning person, if I had a hug in the morning, or someone to eat with, to make it worth while cooking. I'd even be appreciative of someone's work uniform right now, to make sure that I, or he, was making a dent in the laundry pile. Stuff isn't getting done with any kind of efficiency... I guess it hasn't since the headaches, and less so since these Autumn Blues arrived.

Another root of my problem really, is boredom, and with my recent reunion with High School Friends, comes the realisation that I have very little to aim for in my life right now... dictated by upper limits that I can work in hours and salary... and it feels as though I have achieved very little for myself, in life... thus far.


No firm decisions to be made here, (they're not my forte!) just a few aims to consider:
-stand on my own two feet, overcome neccesity to rely on others for happiness (how on flibbing earth do I do this? No idea. Will let you know how it goes!)
- sleep and eat better, sort-out my own routine. I certainly wouldn't let my children behave like this, so I must set a better example
- have a re-think, and take advice about careers, house-moves and finances/cars. I really think its worth considering having new job to go to when my youngest is at school next September. It might have to be 'back to the drawing-board' on the careers thing. Now... what would I like to be when I grow up?


xxx

Recent Doings.

Its been a long time since I was in a sensible enough routine to spend time on my blogging and reading of blogs. I'm hoping to overcome my recent problems and keep in touch with this place somehow, because its just the sort of place I like to be. So, 'hello' again, sweet readers! I'll drop by soon.

I've had horrible things to deal with in the Single Mummy Zone, and it came to a peak on Thursday, when the ex and a mediating officer rang me out of the blue, on my Birthday, to quibble childcare decisions, and just-as-worryingly, monetary issues (which were put to bed over two years ago). Its a real source of anguish actually, and I was upset that he chose to deliver the news of his most recent plot on that particular day. I'm being tied up in knots. My very real fear is that he wants me to end up with nothing. People that know my situation in greater detail will understand that I haven't overstated that, unfortunately.
Needless to say, with the emotion of the occasion, and my pathelogical dislike of most of my adulthood birthdays, (although I had intended to try and enjoy this one!) it was not a good thing. The day ended worse than it had began, and I was appreciative to all those that tried to improve things, but I decided to write it off! Better luck next year maybe.

I'm reminded of a little Monty Python clip here, something about bright sides of life... I'm trying, Eric!

''Lifes a piece of ***t, when you look at it!...''

So I probably should end on a high. I did have a nice weekend, and had a little birthday party on the Saturday, and a picnic on the Sunday. I was thoroughly spoilt, and had a good time ringing in my thirtieth, or twenty-tenth as the children call it, despite the nearness of tears on many occasions. It wasn't easy, but I was glad that I didn't cancel and take to my bed. I do have a lovely family, and a pretty fab boyfriend, and a couple of very true friends. It really helps.


xxx

And also, a special kinda girl wrote some lovely words earlier, please do pop by her blog if you haven't already- I promise it'll cheer you up! I hadn't seen the content of her post before I wrote this one, but I hope I haven't spread any gloom to her corner of Blogland! She sounds all sparkly and light and as though she has been relieved of a great weight. Good for her. Theres a positive thing.

Considering the reactions.

This evening, something occured which now seems a little stupid, but at the time seemed wholly upsetting. Isn't it odd how our reactions to things can be so diverse? Mine were- all in the space of a few hours. I've gone from one to the other tonight, having literally 'cooled down' in the process. Some will laugh when they read, (you can, don't feel guilty- I had a smile!) others will empathise, maybe somebody will be as outraged as I was initially. The interesting juxtaposition here is my initial reaction, with how I would have reacted a second and a third time- each different.

Imagine the scene if you will. This is like Poirot, but without the violence, happily, but also without the beautful period costumes, sadly.. I am at a loss for things to do, and I am avoiding paperwork, and okay its Friday night, which might be a friendly-kinda-rowdy in parts, but I might just go for a run... until I remember that I'm in my PJs. So instead, I'm in my garage, doing that thing I do, gently attacking something like this,

at about half speed, obviously.... (I'm still in the completely learning stage, and also, honestly, it says 'Allegro Molto', not 'Prestissississimo' or something. Whats the rush?)

And I can hear something, to my far right, outside. Although it has been raining lightly on and off since the afternoon, this isn't that kind of watery sound. It is another, unmistakable sound, and it is being sounded against my up-and-over door. I had heard people walk past already, probably between pubs, but hadn't realised that their convo had stopped, and somebody had paused just outside my property. What do I do? This is a bit like a sliding doors scenario- there is a small moment where my London 'walk-away' upbringing (where you don't even look partially intimidating people in the eye, let alone approach them), flickers up inside me, and then it goes. The more overwhelming urge is to go out there, interrupt him, and move them on, and probably, I envisage, they will run away fast, perhaps laughing.

So I go out there, catch him literally in the act, and shout 'What the hell are you doing?' His reaction? He chuckled, continued, and said 'I'm having a piss'. I retaliate: 'Stop it- *** off!' He says 'No'.

Now what? That wasn't what I was hoping would happen. I never expected him to carry on. This is the bit I have replayed in my head. In my updated version, I run in, dash into the back garden where a bucket of rainwater has been gathering, dash back out, and water him, liberally.
Then and there though, I really wanted to wipe the cheesy grin off his face- I was absolutely enraged. And he would hardly have expected it of me to retaliate physically, and it would have been so easy to do. Oh and I was angry- so upset and cross and shocked at the blatentness of it all.

Please note, I did *not* do this. I never touched him, guv.

So what I actually do, is look towards his two laughing mates, themselves the same sort of age and reasonable build, and quickly close the door. I hold the door shut, pushing myself up against it, trying to remember how to lock it without the key, because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I felt incredibly vulnerable. There was nobody else outside to help me- none of the usual taxi drivers, who have been so supportive before, no neighbours, no other pub-goers.. and nobody else inside.

I did my good citizen thing, and made a very likely useless call to a local police switchboard. She diligently took down the description and the particulars, and on a positive note, it was a pleasure to deal with somebody who was totally efficient, and who put me at ease. Our taxes are going somewhere useful in their training I feel.

So the other oddity of situations like this, enraging ones, vulnerable ones,  bloody-good-shock ones, is that you can never get hold of anybody to chat too, to calm down about it. Nobody answered their phones when I came home from a routine abdo scan, with the news that I was unexpectedly a tiny bit pregnant 6 years ago, and nobody answered their phones (initially- bless the lovely friend that did come to my aid though,) when I had a bad shock and ran from someone and hurt my hand a while back- I just wanted to talk too fast for a loved one to understand, and cry down the phone for a bit. Similarly, nobody responded to texts this evening (I knew the parents were in, but didn't fancy worrying them).

I mentioned about the scale of anger- and my reactions if I had have dealt with it a second time that evening. It happened around 8.30, and around 9.00 I'd have done the bucket thing... in fact I sploshed some floor cleaner and water around the outside of the garage after my visitor, as you do... and left some water in the bucket by the front door just in case. He didn't show. Good- maybe the strong arm of the Friday Night Law did catch up with him before he hopped on his bus. Saddo.
By 10, I was beginning to smile about it. And I was a little taken aback by the actions of this feisty girl, all alone, protecting her property, and her Faure induced peace. Maybe she did the right thing, but at 10pm, I would have popped upstairs, closed the curtains and made myself a cuppa. Yes-the garage is where I escape from the world, into my own one, and to have somebody insult it like that was upsetting, but I was daft to confront them. Its also a pretty ridiculous thing to happen, that could probably only happen to me... hence the slight grin, its just my luck- and it is stupid!

I'm not sure what the end of the story is. I'm going to bed, and I'm going to stop mulling it over- maybe thats the conclusion. I feel lighter about it, by a bit, but my lovely evening was rudely broken. Its odd- I was abroad when the 'London' Riots, as they were referred to then, were going on. When it started spreading to other areas, I thought that that kind of behaviour was for cities, and that those sorts of thugs, with their beligerance and rulebreaking, and lawlessness, could never 'belong' where I live, with its rural charm and villagey-pride. They never did reach us, but now I realise that there isn't much of a boundary. People are people. Nobody rioted and put lives and livelihoods in danger outside my house tonight, but they weren't country mice either. I guess I've just realised that you only get away for so long, with living in peace, before somethng like this happens... even if I never thought that it was at all possible, in my beautiful Here.



xxx

PS- sorry for the subject matter, but I do like to share! ;) Thank you for reading my little blog, nice posts and sad ones. I mentioned my disappointment in my last post, at not being able to sit down yet,  and catch up here, and write those 'Dear Diary, I had a fab holiday' entries. But my weekend plans have changed, so I'm a little more likely to be able to catch up with my Bloggy World than I thought, give or take some paperwork. I'll be back soon, I hope, with happy tales from my Summer, plans for September, and maybe even a cake recipe too.

Bad Habits*

*Please come back another day for more lighthearted posts, if stress-bunny habits and sad faces aren't your thing (why would they be?!) I have some happier things lined up to talk to you about later this week,

Brownie Guide Promise. 

I don't indulge myself very often, but if you fancy having a quick read of this, then here are the truths of the last few weeks months. Maybe it will be of help to people in similar situations.


I am stressed in the Single Mummy Zone. The problems I was experiencing before I left my marriage, and all of the ones just afterwards, have reappeared. I am having to go through mediation, because the ex is challenging access (he wants 'half' of the children, ie, he wants them to live with him every other week) and money (he wants to pay none on a regular basis, as opposed to the 'none' from the money that he stopped paying last year) and he's not backing down, and its hurting me.

The sensible take on it would be: I have nothing to hide, and it would not be beneficial to let this 'get' to me, so bring it on... which is kinda what I'm aiming for, and some days I even succeed.  But lets not forget that this was a difficult relationship to say the least (have a look at the link in the first paragraph of this second post if you're in need of people who can help you, like they did me).

So hey ho, love and war and all that, moving on...

Which is kinda what I'm trying to do here- move on. Only I know that pattern only to well. Before moving on, I have to go through a process, a bit like the the stages of grief thingy.



I exhibit these stages when the children are away**, (see below if you fancy an insight into the times when they are here) and I think I do okay, (even if I do say so myself), when they are around to be as normal as I can be. Don't laugh- I can be normal! The stages look something like this:

1 stress out, feel nauseus
2 panic, cry
3 get into bad habits
4 rest, sleep, gather myself
5 move on.

Yes, you read that right: the sleep doesn't really happen succesfully until stage 4! This isn't a clear formula. Yesterday, for example I was between 1 and 2, and today I am doing 1, 2, 3, just like I did for the last 6 months of the relationship, and the first 4 months of my new-found singleness. I manage to find good coping mechanisms on the 'in-between lots of stress' times. So I know I'll get to 4 and 5 agan, just not until the mediation has failed, he's taken me to court, thrown all he has at me and leaned on me to give up my job. Then someone else can make a decision. Scary but true- I'm a realist.



Stress provokes naughtiness don't you think? I seem to know just the best worst reactions to give when I'm in a panicky situation. Some less pretty examples of my bad habits are:

problems keeping it together,

random tearfulness

forgetting to eat, then

eating marzipan from a cake decorating block (and I've run out!)

staying up far too late

being unsociable (I have a rare invitation out tonight where I could potentially meet new people, but do I want to go? No.) 

fidgeting, and getting a shaky knee, and a flicky eye (Mmmm- attractive!)

getting short of breath and experiencing claustrophobia

craving bad cravy things

assaulting my piano (poor piano, he endures Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart when things are very bad, and when I'm more relaxed he puts up with Vaughan Wiliams, Debussy and Ravel)

However I also need to exhibit stage 5 today. The 'move on' aspect is where I'm aiming to pretend I am, so that I can put my woes behind me and do a thing this afternoon, for people who are so much less fortunate than myself. I'm not that much of a Genuine Good Samaritan, because I thought twice about it (naughty) but I owe some people a favour, and I feel I need to help. Reality is good: knowing that I need to be sensible because others are 'going through it' (bereavement in this case) is a welcome reminder of the world outside of the Single Mummy Zone, and I can't afford to be selfish. Here goes.


xxx




**When my Little People are here, or I can't let on for another reason, and I'm stressed, its kinda like this:  I badly burnt myself on Mothering Sunday when I was 7, trying to make a breakfast and tea for my mum. The hot water from the kettle came cascading over the work surface, badly scalding and scarring both of my arms and my stomach. I had 4 weeks off from school, and many many weekly trips to the burns unit for dressing changes etc. One particular time, the dressing (or something odd that looked a little bit like a net that you find around satsumas anyhow) wouldn't come away from my upper arm. They had to take me into the shower and ease it off, with water. I remember the agony. My mum told me recently that she couldn't believe that I sat there in the bath silently, letting the tears roll down my face because I didn't want to make a fuss. I remembered this again recently, and that is what I feel like I'm doing when I have to get on with it nowadays- when its expected of me to be ok. Thankfully this isn't a continuous feeling, its only during the worse times. Someone could offer the ex a truck load of cash and a one way ticket to somewhere far far away, and I'd feel even better :)

Plan D: to go with Plan C, with a couple of extras thrown in.

I blogged last week about the concern of what to do with myself during my break from the children. Previously, when they have been away with their dad on his leave, I have kept out of trouble (...kinda), and done these types of things:

Well, I stole a couple of pics from other events, but this is me having fun, and people I enjoy seeing, who aren't Here. I'm not a hundreds-of-friends girl, (there will only be a handful at my 30th) because I need people around me that I really trust. A few fantastc friends is the way to go for me.

And as much fun as that was, like LOVELY to be spending time in my old life, pre-children, going out, stealing cuddles with nieces, having walks and tea with the parentals, going shopping and being a Lady Wot Lunches with old school friends, I decided that I would stay put this week, Here, and see what I could do about making that life for myself in my new location...well, you know, one step at a time. I had fairly low expectations. (As a side note, have you any idea how happy the creation of that little montage of 'away' photos made me? The answer, if you were unsure, is 'very'. In fact it could probably only be rivalled by the rainbow medicinal goodness that is the Nobbly Bobbly).

So how did we get on? (The Royal 'We' that is...)

We were extremely honest about our situation, and put out the feelers for peops that might be nearby and at a loose end, and then we decided that, yes, we could be a lady of the stay-at-home (or at least, local) variety, and bake and make, and prep for that thing I do that requires prepping, and work a bit, and mooch and be all lovely and independant and fabulous, and the week would fly by.
But in a fleeting panic, and because most of the nice things about my life are organised with the aid of the internet, (I've looked up that link Lucy- I'm gonna be brave and approach a social group!) I did post a heart-felt message to my facebook profile, asking if local friends might want to meet...

You know, the thing about facebook, is that you get a slightly warm feeling of a large circle of people that care, and pass friendly comments and in actual fact would never ring or email, (yeah... I know, but I could do more too) however, they are nevertheless there, in the background. And I'm very grateful that they are, because respond, they did.
Lovely people (from Stoke, to Bedfordshire, to London, to Wales) said 'Awww, we would but we're too far', and the big sister said kind things too. Then two local-er friends said that they would like to, but could only do times that I couldn't, (but I'm still hoping to meet with them soon), then I got an email from a mummy friend who invited me out there and then. She was after a distraction, as her children were also with their dad, and she had an assignment that needed doing. I can be a distraction!

And we went out on our bikes... yes, I was on a bicycle- a vehicle that requires skills that I don't possess. My lovely fella bought me my first real bike of my very own, for my birthday last year, and it seemed like a good time to dust it off and wobble to somewhere, with a sympathetic but better-skilled friend. Thats friend! I have one- Here! We wobbled to a watering hole, and had drinks and talked and talked and shared stories, and found that there are 10 years between us, but life has thrown us all sorts of similar experiences. It was nice- she has a gazillion friends and is usually extremely busy, so it won't happen much, but it was kind of her. I wobbled myself home again, triumphant, to find that the other half was on his way over, unexpectedly (I'd counted him out for most of the week, because he was supposed to be busy with work and family commitments), and we hugged and made dinner.

I had some news in the week, that came in a Brown Envelope of Doom, that made my living room look like this.

Note the lovely blue guitar on the left- he'd been learning Blackbird, at my request, (if you can't do it, pester someone who can, I say...)

He dried the tears, snaffled me up, and took me to the park where he could play and we could eat ice creams, whilst doing sums and sorting my life out. We came back because it got cold and windy, but the thought was there!

He only left me this morning, with the situation, we hope, sorted. Bless him. I didn't ask for that, in fact in my stubborn way, I did suggest he might want to go, and leave me to fight my own battles and get his smile quota from less miserable people! But he ignored me, and took a day or two off work that was owed to him. Rebel.
We've been out and doing stuff every day, and we've been back to his house so I could cuddle his cats, and even though I've been down in the dumps, he's been so lovely. Another cure for that sad-face-feeling? I give you bouncy lambs, in the field opposite his house.

I have my parents visiting on Saturday, and I'm working/ volunteering on Sunday, so really, the empty week hasn't been such a disaster. Its a start. You kinda come through these things stronger, (and closer, where applicable), dont you think?


xxx