Wednesday 29 February 2012

RIP Davy Jones

Just heard that Davy Jones has died.  I feel really sad, 66 seems so young to die these days.

We just talking about The Monkees the other night with Mr DOMADQ, I honestly don't know anyone who doesn't like them.  Their music makes me smile.

 I remember all the reruns of the series in the school holidays which we would watch over and over. Zany & full of fun, they will always make me think of my childhood.


Friday 24 February 2012

Talk to Us






Today Relate revealed that mental health issues are increasing in young people.  74% of the 13 to 18 year olds surveyed said they felt stressed at least sometimes over the last month, with nearly a third saying they they felt stressed often or all the time.

 

Being a teenage is hard.  Adrift on a sea of hormones between child and adult hood.  Desperately trying to find yourself, wanting to fit it, wanting to stand out, 1st loves, exams, your future.  There is a lot to be stressed about. Today there are the added stresses of mounting youth unemployment and cyberbullying in this age of social media.

There were many many issues that effected me as a teenager. My dad was ill and we lost our home in the recession.  My sister had been abused by a family friend which came to light.  And all that came on top of all the other shit we had to deal with such as bitchy girls, exams and desperately wanting a boyfriend. 

Despite having friends and family around me I had black days and felt like I had no one to talk to. I cried a lot without being able to articulate what was wrong. I bottled things up, trying deal with it on my own. I craved normality. 

It took me until the age of 31 before I had counselling and realised that 'normal' does not exist.  Counselling was the best thing I ever did.  It gave me head space and helped me unravel my jumble of thoughts and feelings.  It made me confront many things I hadn't been able to deal with previously.  It is something I would recommend to everyone. 

I had no idea that Relate offered counselling for young people, I had thought that they purely did marriage counselling.  I think that it is amazing that this facility is there to help teenagers who need someone to talk to, to be heard and get some help.  I applaud them.  I wish I there had been something like this for me when I was younger.


Thursday 9 February 2012

Super(post)man

Today having worked this morning, I went gone to pick girl 2 up from nursery, dealt with a major tantrum with said girl, drove to the local sorting office to collect some parcels I'd missed yesterday (including a birthday present from my in laws for said small grumpy girl). Trying to lifts her spirits I told her I thought one of the parcels was for her (knowing that at least one other was a parcel from Amazon for me).

I fought my way through the traffic, remembering this time that my usual route is currently access only and meaning I had to brave the temporary traffic lights the other way.  Never mind, I think, at least I can cheer her up with the present.  The usual 2 minute journey takes about 20.  When I arrive I have remembered to check that I have change for the parking meter as they are sticklers round there and so I have to pay the minimum charge.  We both get out of the car and walk along.  And oh, wait what's this?  The lights not on.  Shit, it's 1.20pm and today the bloody thing closes at 1pm.

Bugger bugger bugger bugger.

A man is locking up and sees the look on my face.  'We closed at 1 today love'.  'What a shame I say, I just paid for parking'.  He offers to arrange the relivery.  Makes a note on the card to reschedule for Monday & posts it back through the door promising to sort it out when he gets back.

What a helpful man I think.  'Come on, I say to my girl, lets go home'
'But what about my PRESENT?'  she demands, lip petted
'The man's going to deliver it on Monday' I tell her
At this point she dissolves in tears.  The postie looks at me quizzically.  I smiled appologetically 'Birthday present' I tell him.
'When is his birthday?' He asks about my beautiful girl in cerise pink hat & school skirt
'It was HER birthday yesterday'
He looks at me and then at her.  And then that marvellous man turned round and unlocked the door.  He handed my girl her parcel saying 'Happy Birthday'

I was so touched that he took the trouble to do that for her.  It made me smile all afternoon. Well at least until it started snowing again...

Tuesday 7 February 2012

Sunday Girl

When I was 17 I fell in love for the first time. 

The object of my affection was someone I worked with in a garden centre at the weekend and he was gorgeous.  He had blue blue eyes and they twinkled with mirth.  He wasn't like any other boy I had met, he was articulate and creative, we liked the same things.  His acerbic wit had me in stitches and we made a very real connection.  He didn't know I loved him, oh no, I was too unsure of myself to tell him, but he made my heart skip whenever I trudged into work in my green tabard.  I remember copying out the words to Blondie's 'Sunday Girl' into an anonymous Valentine's Card for him, for indeed Sundays were the days we worked together. 





We were very close friends and maybe that's why, one night at gig, whilst dancing with him he leaned forward and bend down to whisper in my ear, I held my breath and he said those fateful words. 'I'm gay'. 
I can't really remember my reaction to his revelation, I think I just about held it together whilst trying to assure him that everything was OK.  I was the first person he came out to, probably because we were so close, and I guess in hindsight I should be flattered, but I was devastated.
 
I remember choking out tears to my best friend by the lockers at school the next day telling her the events of the night before.  And then despite being heart broken I decided 'Friends is good, friends is something' (I think that's a quote from a film or something) and that this would all be fine.  But in my usual dramatic fashion I also HAD to tell him how I felt, even if it wasn't going anywhere.  And so I did.  I wrote an umpteened page tome about how I loved him but it was all alright and I didn't expect him to do anything about it yadda yadda yadda.  I don't remember what I expected him to do with all this emotional outpouring, possibly have a change of heart / sexuality, but I just knew I had to tell him.  And so after that I just put my feelings in a box and put them away, desperate to be content with my new 'fag hag' role.

And things were fine and we had lots of fun.  I remember a hilarious trip to Margate with him and some other friends of his where we sang along to music at the top of our voices on the way down to Bembom Brothers.  On the way back I chatted animatedly with a friend of his whilst he was asleep with another friend in the back of the car, talking so much we missed our junction on the motorway and added about 30 miles to the journey and the others were oblivious.  Singing Abba at the tops of our voices, trips to the cinema to watch scary films and Pride Marches in London.  Before he came out to everyone else several people assumed I was his girlfriend.  Oh how we laughed when one night his dad 'put his foot down' and forbade me from staying over in his room but allowed another male friend to do so! 

Some things were harder to deal with.  When he got his first proper boyfriend (who was lovely by the way) my heart ached a little and I remember one particular New Years Eve where I went out with him and his boyfriend and then we crashed at someones house.  They thought I was asleep but I wasn't.  I lay on the floor, scarcely daring to breath listening to them together and my heart broke in two.  Whilst on the train home the next day I overheard some other people talking about 'the state of that girl over there'.  They were talking about me and my tattered heart worn very much on my sleeve.

But I guess life goes on, you move on and grow up. 

Over the years our lives have moved in different directions with Uni and jobs, marriage and children, we have drifted in and out of each others lives.  That is why I love Facebook so much because we are in touch again.  I haven't seen him in such a long time (geographically it isn't so easy) but there will always be a little corner in my heart for him.  I heard Abba on the radio the other day and it made me smile.

Thursday 2 February 2012

Desperate Housework

I have managed to swerve Rainbows again this afternoon.   I am a terrible mother.  But really all I had to do was ask Girl 1 if she wanted  to go to Rainsbows today whilst raising an eyebrow and she said no. Surely I should be making the child go?  But it is -9 degrees out there for gods sake and even the thought of herding Girl 2 to and from the library is no fun - she cried all the way to nursery this morning because she was cold (and she was fully attired in sweatshirt, coat, gloves, hat and scarf).  'I'm COLD Mummy', 'Well it IS cold' was the refrain.

It's ridiculous how much the weather affects our moods, well is has been so unseasonably  er seasonable recently!

I have spent the time where I haven't been child wrangling in the cold cleaning, YES cleaning my house (my mum won't believe this if she is reading it!). 

I am truly a terrible housewife, but I kind of give up sometimes as I feel like I am fighting against the tide in this house.  It isn't ALL my mess and yet it is all my mess to deal with - how is that fair?!  I always feel like I deserve at least a round of applause after I've mopped the kitchen floor. 
But these things have to be done as we have a tea party planned for the weekend for Girl 2's birthday and so there will be other mothers who have not been to my house potentially noting the tip and judging me. 
With my friends I know that they know what to expect.  I open the door to them inevitably muttering the words 'excuse the mess', but with the additional bodies, nursery mum's I don't really know/friends yet to be made and birthday photos to be taken and inevitably uploaded to Facebook I really should tidy up.

I am off to mop the floor, get ready with the applause.