Monday (15/07/19)
The kids slowly drag their arses out of bed at a snail’s pace and brush their teeth with their eyes still shut. This is while I am shouting like a banshee from various locations of the house “hurry up we’re going to be late”, “we overslept, brush faster” and the more colourful “I am sick of always having to fucking shout for you two to get a move on!”
It’s the last week of school before the summer holidays and both my children have given up the fight. To be fair to them, the most they are set to learn this week is who shot Rodger Rabbit and it was indeed the butler who did it in the dinning room with the candlestick.
The run up to the summer hols is always a challenge for parents. The schools put on fun events for the kids, which costs a lot of money; £1 for sweets while they watch a film, £5 spending money on the class trip, £8 to go on said trip, £2.50 advised spending money at the school bake fair, £5 spending money for the bouncy castle and other fun activities at the school family picnic. The list goes on as the purse clears. I don’t know why we are surprised every year, we seem to have a yearly bitch about the amount of money we feed into the school just before the children break up and every year we are surprised again when the kids bring home letters asking for more coins.
Today, us Mums, received a text message from school advising that the children had an end of year disco at 6.30pm. We have a ‘Mum chat’ on whatsapp for such emergencies as missing cardigans, school pickups and the odd surprise disco. We all scrambled demanding “did anyone know about the disco?” It seemed we were all in the dark but after some discussion (bitching, lots of bitching) we arranged so that all the girls could go, some of us were picking up other children along the way as some parents had plans/work but all the girls got there in the end.
They danced, they spent money on sweets, they came out all sweaty and tired; the usual disco fiasco. As this was the last disco of the school year, as traditional with the year six leavers, the girls arrived in the pink limousine which is not designed to squeeze down the narrow school lane, and drove the children around the block as they screamed in excitement before bringing them back to their parents. WHAT A MASSIVE WASTE OF MONEY. Luckily, us mothers of the current year fours have a pact. When our girls hit year six, we are not hiring a limo. END OF. If our girls have a limo ride at the age of eleven then us parents have to top that experience for their high-school prom. Plus there are only a limited amount of places and there are always girls who are left out each year. I am thankful that we parents have an understanding.
As we were leaving the disco, the limo pulled up for the year sixes and our girls came running over to see. The girls screamed with excitement and were desperate to look inside. I turned to Sophie and said “look all you want, but there won’t be a limo at your leavers party.” The other mums nodded and we had some sulky children on our hands for the ride home. I am all for ‘keeping up with the Jones’ to a certain extent and I would never want any children to feel left out but there has to be a place where we draw the line. They are, after all, still children.
Tuesday (16/07/19)
The weekly dog walk with my friend Maggie (and Dotty the sausage dog). Our walks usually consist of a running commentary of what has been going on with the children, our men and work. Maggie works at the University where I study and was the one who pushed me to go for my degree. She is also my bitching companion when it come to the ignorance of our men and the woman I laugh with when we drink too much gin.
Maggie (sadly) has been having some issues with her partner for the last few months, something I can relate to as my husband seems to spiral during the summer months (we still are unsure what is significant about the warmer weather to his temperament). Our walks are kind of like a therapy session for ourselves as we chase our dogs and pick up their poop. An unusual method but an effective one.
One thing Maggie and I champion for is our ‘ladies circle’, we have all been through troubles and shitty times, but we found that we can all share our stories, learn from each other’s experiences and build each other up. It’s a fantastic support network and one of the reasons we hold ‘ladies nights’ once a month.
I met Maggie five years ago when our girls started school together, Maggie invited me over for a brew and we hit it off straight away. She had just left her husband and moved into her own house. She was a little emotional the day we met and opened up over a brew. I don’t know what gave her the confidence to be so open and honest with a woman she had just met on the playground half an hour earlier, but I am glad she did. After she told me all that she had been through, I reassured her and told her my colourful past with men.
We look back on our meeting and Maggie tells everyone “I thought I was having a shitty time until Kate came into my life and shared her past experiences. I realised that my troubles weren’t as bad as what she had gone through and this put things in to perspective for me. I also found that we had so much in common and probably shared this with other women. This is when we build our ladies circle. We encourage and support each other. We are a community and we all love each other.” Maggie is without a doubt one of the loveliest ladies I have ever met and I am so blessed to call her a good friend.
Thursday (18/07/19)
I was a bad mum on Thurday and selfishly decided to keep my son off school. He wasn’t missing anything important, two days left in school and all they were doing was watching films in class. My husband was not happy when he found out, I don’t think he believed that it was my choice and thought that Charlie had begged to stay off school. I needed a mental health day. With all the stresses and pressures on me at the moment, I just felt that a fun day with my boy would benefit us both. Charlie has been struggling with his friendship group at school and our relationship always grows stronger when we have some alone time. Usually laughing about life and speaking of grown up things. Charlie is desperate to grow up and always has an abundance of questions ready to fire at any time.
The day had started brilliantly and we were driving out to the countryside to go for a hike when my phone started ringing. I knew what had happened instantly. I had been supporting one of my friends when she received some treatment for abnormal cells in her uterus. She had had these cells removed and was resting at home. I had seen her earlier that morning and she was ringing her doctors as she thought she had contracted an infection from the procedure. This telephone call was not going to be good news. I pulled over the car and answered.
On the other end of the phone was a very upset friend, she had been given an appointment to see a male doctor and was having a panic attack at the thought of a man touching her. I told her that I would go with her and that everything would be alright. I hung up the phone and turned back at Charlie “well that puts a wrench in our plans.” I dropped Charlie at school and went with my friend to the doctors, held her hand, reassured her and calmed her down. You will be happy to know that she is now happy on antibiotics and feeling miles better. The funny thing to come from that phone call was the response that Charlie had. He had asked me what was going on as he had heard some of the conversation (mainly my side and crying from the other end) and had some questions.
I am trying to raise my son in a way that I am open and honest as much as I can be (without scarring him or scaring him off adult life all together) so that if he has any questions or concerns when he is older, that hopefully he will feel he can ask me. I also want him to learn a little extra that what they teach him in schools as I feel they concentrate on each sex individually and that the boys done learn enough about what goes on with girls and vice versa.
I had spoken to Charlie previously about the smear tests and the importance of having them done. He had put two and two together from what he had heard and assumed that this is what my friend was upset about. He asked me “if the tool is shaped like a duck’s beak then why is it uncomfortable for women to have that done but sex doesn’t hurt them?” This was a fantastic question.
I explained “when a woman is excited for sex her body makes a lubricant, a liquid that helps during sex which means it is enjoyable, not uncomfortable. But when a woman has the procedure in the doctors, she is not excited and so doesn’t make this liquid to help.”
This statement was followed by Charlie nodding his head and then saying “that makes sense, but I think you just told me a little bit too much for my age.” Fair point. It’s hard to measure what is, too much. I am trying my best to be open and honest but I do need to keep a check on what I share and what I think can maybe be kept for another year or so. Either way, Charlie was very understanding that he had to go back to school and told me that he hoped my friend felt better soon. Once thing I am extremely thankful for is how kind and considerate my son is. He has a heart of gold, and I hope that by watching me try to help others will encourage him to do the same when he grows up. I also hope I have not scarred him too much.
Friday (19/07/19)
End of school and the start of celebrations for the ladies. My mum was coming down to visit which meant I spent most of the day stressing over how clean/unclean the house was and running around trying to get things in order before she arrived. We were all due to go on a ladies night with the other mums and my mum loves to come along and gossip with us all.
Maggie messaged me that her partner had left her and that she was too upset to go to the party. Understandably I completely understood that she was in no mood to celebrate, however, I also felt that she should not be alone and upset so I invited her to come to my house instead and that we would all miss the party together.
It’s funny how in situations like that we always blame ourselves. “It’s my fault he’s left” “I pushed him too far” “He felt trapped and I didn’t help” bla bla bla bullshit. Why do we women do that? The fucker left you, you! He chose to go. My drunken mother on the other hand was a little harsh. “Yes Maggie, it is your fault. You need to put you first and not let men chip away at you. Build on your soul” owf it was hard to watch. Maggie agreed. the next morning all are texting each other, apologizing for being too blunt.
Love you Maggie!
Saturday (20/07/19)
Lancs Fest with the kids and mum. What a fantastic day. I have found that if I take camping chairs with me to any outdoor activity, then I can comfortably stay longer as the kids dance and shout the day away. We had fantastic music, lovely food and despite the odd patch of drizzle, a lovely sunny day. It was a perfect Saturday, the only thing that was missing was a picnic. We even took a pack of cards to play. My husband, Lee was at home nursing a sore head following his works night out. Despite this, he had made it clear during the week that he had no intention on joining us for our family day out. He now picks and chooses when to join in and when he will just stay home alone. I would be lying if I said that this doesn’t bother me, but at least I am finding my independence without him around all the time, that way, if he decides to leave again this summer, I know I can survive solo. Marriage is hard, nothing like I thought it was going to be. I have found that getting married changed him, but we will get into that another time.
Fun in the sun with mum and the kids was a brilliant day. A cheap one too. The kids love the outdoors and feeling free to roam under the protection of the fence. I enjoy spending these days, away from the distractions of technology and house chores, to connect with family. Plus, the outdoors and being in nature brings out the best in my family.
Having our portraits drawn into these funny characters was also a plus to the day. We all laughed so hard at Nana’s picture. I wouldn’t change my family for the world.
REDSMITHS and ROBINS 