Due to the current economic climate

the light at the end of the end of the tunnel

has been switched off!

Merry Christmas to everyone out there! And a happy boxing day! Anyone else feel that although Christmas is great, it seems an awful lot of organisation, hassle and flying around tryng to shop for world and his uncle, for one single day that is over in an instant? Don't get me wrong I love Christmas and we had a good day, but I am so exhausted that my body gave up and I am now suffering from the yearly horror that is 'THE COLD'. Yes, despite plying myself with Vitamin C, echinachea, and evening primrose oil; and consuming mountains of clementines; I am snotting right, left and centre, coughing, spluttering and have severely congested sinuses - not pretty (good job D made Christmas dinner!)

So far we have played 'Elefun'; with the fairy wonderland; with the 'Jungle in my Pocket'; on the 'V-Tech V-Smile'; with the Dora stickers; the craft sets; have watched Tinkerbell and Sleeping Beauty DVD; worn the Cinderella pyjamas and the matching skirt and top from NZ; we have eaten chocolates and turkey in excess, but not together; listened to Ali's kids CD player with sing along microphones - which was interesting - Ali did an encouragable version of 'Henrietta the Dancing Hippopotamus which cracked us all up; we have made things with pipe-cleaners; read Dora books; cuddled soft toys in abundance; listened to Christmas music; spoken to friends and family; and now, with Ali asleep in bed, we are all completely exhausted and have collapsed on the sofa - unmovable.

I simply cant wait to be well again to hit the sales - however inevitably everything descent will be gone again by the time I get anywhere near the shopping centre. Illness, all work and no play is making Jen a very dull girl.........

Christmas-ness and parenting politics!

So - yesterday afternoon on collecting my daughter from nursery, among all the 'art work' and letters I was given to take home, there was a list of all the children in her class. One can only assume that this means she is supposed to give out Christmas cards - at 3 and 1/2???? She has received some already, but this year I was considering giving to charity rather than distributing Christmas cards. Never mind, I am sure Ali will love it - choosing them and trying to write her name in them. It's whether I have the patience however, as cards are not my most favourite part of the 'festive season'. But the very cheek of it. Is it now expected of me? If I don't will Ali be thought less of? Will I forever be known as the 'incompetent parent'? The 'politics of parenting', they should teach this in school as part of 'Personal and social education' I think. And I thought that actually physically taking care of children would be the hardest part of parenting.

So lets see...I have a grand total of 7 days to organise these Christmas cards; in amongst working full time; organising this tip that is my home - while D works all hours trying to keep the leisure centre cafe afloat; completing the practical and essay for my 'Facilitating learning in practice' course; and of course organising a talk/presentation about being a midwife to 2 classes of 25+ GCSE students (a favour called in from a colleague of my mothers who once tutored me at no cost). Damn, I really am pushing it this time. Too much in such a short space of time. I have a sneaky feeling I will be one of the people rushing around the metro centre the weekend before Christmas trying to finish of my Xmas shopping - a little last minute.

Last night we bought and dressed our Christmas tree. Another real one because I just love the smell, although this one is not in a pot so may die before we even get to Christmas knowing my track record with plants. I bought a stand for it that will hold water - just have to be on the ball and water it now. My touch of OCD shone through as Ali was putting on the decorations and I was moving them about to ensure they were all spread out enough. And of course certain decorations had to be in certain places. I think I am getting worse each year. Myself and D are like ships that pass in the night again too. He comes in at 7pm and I got out to work at 7.30pm. Maybe this is the secret to maintaining a relationship - never seeing each other! We both have the day off Saturday so we will have to make the most of it.

It's pretty - but will mess with your life and your mind!

I hate the snow! My nerves are in tatters following a very traumatic day of simply trying to go about my business among the 6+ inches of snow plaguing my world. Why are we always so unprepared to deal with the snow? Even though I knew there was six inches of snow on my driveway, and that the path my fiance had cleared for my car to pull out into was now very much none existent; I still left no extra time when I needed to get Ali to her school Christmas performance. A wealth of curses I didn't even know I could say and a multitude of aggressive screams ensued, as I lept from the car and started frantically digging my car a clearing to follow. Having advanced no more than half a metre I had to make a hard right in reverse to get my car from its car parking space. First challenge over I slowly reversed down the drive repeating D's parting words of that morning 'reverse out of the driveway onto the main road, do not try and turn to come out forwards, you will get stuck'. I'm reversing, I'm reversing, slowly reversing, almost at the main road.......car skids, does 180, bonnet heading for neighbours wall - shit shit shit, braking not working, lump of snow halts and saves my car, about 4cm from wall - literally. Breath, breath, breath, stop swearing, stop swearing, Ali listening. After a moment to allow my pulse rate to triple, the reversing began again and it was 50-50 whether I would actually go backwards or continue forwards into the wall. By some miracle or guardian angel we made it out onto the main road and to school. Sliding, almost, into a space in the school ice-rink...er I mean car park...I made an executive decision to then abandon my car and go on foot into town for a hot chocolate while waiting for the school performance to begin. There is only so much 'car on ice skates' I can take.

Christmas play. Very cute. Ali was a donkey - as was the rest of her class???? So approximately 26 donkeys took Mary to Bethlehem, where they inhabited a stable and baby Jesus was born - to have one of the 3 kings throw Mur at him. Ha ha, I love the unpredictability of kids. Ali looked exhausted after yet another night of terrors haunting us all, but she joined in and did her part just fabulously. Yes, my daughter was an excellent donkey. (Sporting the various shades of grey clothing cobbled together from Primark so as not to break the bank - why would little girls have grey clothes? I could have easily done white angel, or tea towel clad Shepard. Nope it was grey donkey, of which they informed me two days prior to the performance - what?).

Other challenges which currently have me stumped include cropping the photos to go into the calenders I am compiling as family Christmas presents (last year all my photos were 'landscape' anyway so fit the calenders perfectly, this year they all seem to be 'portrait' and are laughing incessantly at me chanting "figure this one out, and quickly, because its nearly Christmas, and you have probably already missed to final post date to family in NZ"). Also having made no start to either the work required for my mentorship course or the presentation on 'being a midwife' I am doing for some high school kids for a friend (yes you heard that right - they are going to shoot me down), I am now panicking as the clock ticks away to the deadline for both. And of course there is the small matter of Christmas shopping of which I have completed about 1% (ie. Ali's presents). Christmas of course is followed promptly by D's 50th - any ideas will be greatly received. And who the hell told me that being cold burns calories - because I am bloody freezing and putting on more sodding weight. Ground swallow me up.

Having my uni house mates to stay was so wonderful. I can't describe how natural and how jovial life is when we are all together. It just reminds me how much I love them all and how much I miss them. It is so true that you really have no idea what great times you are having until they are gone. I had my gorgeous girls, a lovely meal, Newcastle and it s beautiful bridges and everyone with my family the following day. How could I have asked for more. The tears were unstoppable as they pulled out of the driveway to return home, South of my little place in the world. I waved and my heart broke. It's like a piece of me is missing. Girls know I love you, and we must not leave it another year and a half before we do it again!

Today's trip to Stockton on Tees has rolled up a close second to the stressful experience of visiting Middlesborough the other week. Once again I 'AA Route mapped' two thirds of the way and then became totally lost on entry into Stockton on Tees itself. In a scarily 'deja vu' moment, I found myself on one side of the river and the bloody university (where the study day was being held) on the other. Where are the transporter bridges when you need them?? Ha. You would have had to pay me to get on one of those again. And its a good job I don't have a problem with asking for directions - thank you kind staff at Halfords, that wasn't even opened yet, when I burst in flustered and mumbling this morning.

Having managed to get a place in the conference discussing 'The Impact of Sexual Violence on Health and Mental Health' after a series of emails with the organiser who managed to squeeze me in, I could not very well miss this opportunity. Road raging my way round Stockton on Tees in bus lanes and doing 'u' turns where I shouldn't be, I found my way there on the Halfords staff instruction and proceeded to sign in at 0929am - lucky lucky, one minute to spare - someone is surely watching over me! I was exhausted though. It is amazing how much energy you use simply trying to find your way! Getting up at 5am didn't help of course.

The day proved very interesting indeed. One of the speakers who addressed the topic in a midwifery and childbearing context made a very touching and thought provoking presentation that really did open my eyes to this situation in a new light and from an entirely different perspective. I dearly hope that I can use this knowledge to initiate some of the advice into practice in my own unit. You can rest assured I will be doing my best.

Buffet was disappointing. Drank too much pure juice and not enough water. Headaches and toilet trips a plenty as a result. Made some good contacts which may prove useful in the future, and the return journey was not nearly as bad. It is interesting to watch the politics of these events as well. The tension between the mental health workers and mental health/psychology theorists for example was immense - you could have easily cut the air with a knife. People watching is a very entertaining past time also. Observing individuals striving to keep their eyes open is also quite comedy, because yes as always there were dull moments too.

Strictly misbehaving

In a desperate attempt to catch up with my beloved 'Strictly Come Dancing' this week, having missed round 8 completely while attending a family gathering; I am feeling drained and wholly exhausted. Following an intense battle with BBC iplayer during which I was watching the performances a couple of seconds at a time because the episode would not download, I finally gave up and headed for 'you tube', where at least I could see the couples routines, if not the whole show. My frustration is just growing as the previous week I had only managed to catch glimpses of the show while at work in between caring for labourers on the delivery suite. I did think we were heading for disciplinary action as we all became riled up and excitable in the staff room watching Austin and Tom with our cups of tea. So if the trust receives a complaint about the 'rowdy' midwives during their labour experience one Saturday evening I will have to forward it to Claudia, Tess and Bruce! In fact I think the professional dancers should come and visit their midwifery fans at the hospital and we could distract and entertain the labourers as they try to teach the staff to foxtrot with the forceps, cha cha into a c-section and Viennese waltz with the ventouse. First dibs on Anton! In fact dancing could be the new form of induction into labour! Forget curry, pineapple and raspberry leaf tea, a brisk tango would surely do the trick!

The family weekend was thoroughly enjoyed by everyone. We abandoned the fireworks as we became rained off and soggy fireworks didn't seem entirely safe. It was so good to see my best friend again who was over visiting from Paris and became an honorary family member for the weekend. Putting the world to rights in two days came oh so naturally as always, both of us envying what the other has as opposed to appreciating where each of us are right now in our lives. There was no bad behaviour though so a night out may be called for next time. She will be returning today. I hope to see her again at Christmas, which is not too far away.

Next decision is whether to take Ali to a panto this Xmas? Not sure whats on, but I do know the cbeebies characters are coming to the metro arena mid December. Question is, can I possibly sit through several hours of such entertainment without feeling the need to commit suicide. Not sure yet. Possibly if there was a group of us. Input from fellow mammy friends required on this one I think.

I am also staying positive as this weekend coming my flatmates from uni are visiting and staying over - so excited in anticipation of an opportunity to go wild and misbehave! Here come the girls alright!

Where's the panic button???

Who would have thought that the most challenging part of trying to fit a large food shopping trip (into just under 2 hours) while Ali was at nursery, would have been finding my car in the supermarket car park. With overloaded trolley in tow I battled my way to the aisle I believed I had parked my car in, only to realise it was in the next. Now for those of you familiar with supermarket car parks you will know that there is by no means enough room to steer a trolley between cars into the next aisle. So off I trotted feeling incredibly stupid all the way down to the end of the aisle and round up to where my little car was parked. Incidentally no where near a trolley park either therefore another trip ensued back to the front of the store to replace my trolley. If only I hadn't been so honest and parked my car in one of the mother and child bays! But alas the guilt would have been too great given I had a car seat, but no child in it, at the time.

After crapping myself preparing to return to university for the first time in 2 years, I am now completely traumatised by the event. Not the day itself - the journey, as I wholeheartedly predicted. The AA Route map got me two thirds of the way, and then nothing could help me. Lost in smog-land somewhere on an industrial estate I found what I thought was the bridge I needed to cross. True to form I had found a bridge that wasn't even a proper bridge! I believe the correct terminology is 'transporter bridge'. Now given I have never seen one of these before, I was not quite prepared for its purpose. Unable to turn around and retreat I found myself on what was effectively a crane like structure with a high wire which winched and 'pullied' 9 cars on a platform across the river - hanging from wires! Wires!!! Bloody hell.....who invented that. What was wrong with a normal bridge for that given situation?? Boy was I pleased to get off that believe me. 40 minutes of searching for a car parking space led me to a back street somewhere in gangster world where my little car lay to rest under a sign which began in earnest 'motorists beware....', fabulous! Locking and securing my car as far as humanly possible, I kissed it goodbye in the event that it would no longer be there on my return, and began my search for the building to which I was due somewhere in this god forsaken place. With car where I left it and intact, the return journey led me to a spaghetti junction, during which I was praying I had managed to allocate myself to the correct lane; and following a short period of raw panic that I was travelling the wrong way along the A19 I calmed myself and realised I was seeing signs for Newcastle and the A1. Large sigh - heading back to what Ali would term 'our world'. I only have to return there once to hand in the work once this module is completed, and I sincerely hope it is the last.

DO....YOU....KNOW....WHAT....I....MEAN....????

Today I attended Ali's parents evening. Yep, that's right, parents evening at age 3 having been at nursery school for half a term. Of course it was more of an informal chat to discuss how she was settling in. Quite well according to her teacher, and strangely the word 'quiet' was mentioned. Quiet! Pah, she never shuts up at home! I rushed to collect her this afternoon as I had over slept my alarm following my night shift. Heartbreaking images of Ali looking for me as all the other parents were retrieving there kids, and being the only child left sad and waiting for me, were running through my mind. Luckily I arrived on time and as we were waiting for our appointment slot with Ali's teacher the emotional scene I had pictured in my head was happening for real to one of Ali's friends. I wanted to pick him up and hug him. He looked so upset. His childminder wasn't too late but I guess it must have crossed his mind that no-one was coming for him when he was the only one left. Well, it was enough to make me ensure I always arrive on time!

Nerves are consuming me this week as I prepare to head back to university. Training to be a mentor to midwifery students not even two years into my own practice is quite scary. Apparently you can do so anytime from one year of experience now. I guess they must be short on midwifery mentors. I only hope I don't confuse them completely, or even worse - deter them from continuing. It is quite daunting to think that I will be playing a large part in the decisions whether students are competent or not, but at least I get a chance to be a positive element in learning midwifery. I know only too well how a mentor can make or break you in each placement. If you don't get on it can lead to bad performance and zero confidence very quickly. Anxiety about the course is compounded by the fact that I have to go to North Tees Uni which is miles away - in Middlesborough, I think, and I hate driving into unknown built up areas with a passion. This has the potential to be the third car crash in three years to complete my hat trick if I don't calm down. I hear AA Route Planner and sedatives a calling!

Today, after sleeping off my night-shift for a few hours, I watched the DVD I hired from the library I have just joined with Ali. The DVD was 'Becoming Jane', the film about Jane Austin. I was quite moved by it. I began to consider how much our society has changed in what could be considered a short period of time in long-term history. As 'courting' reduces and sexual freedom blooms, is romance meeting an untimely death? Are we losing sight of each other on a higher level amid daily comings and goings and the trials of modern life. I myself have written recently with regard to concerns about my own relationship to to that affect. But even at the beginning of my relationship the sexual desires were fulfilled before we really 'knew' each other. Most concerning is that I have brought my daughter into a generation of people whose lives, personalities and popularity are judged largely on sexual status - how absurd is that?

Flip the coin and one could argue that biology has always alluded to sexual desires ensuring the continuation of the species, it was just hidden well in the days of Miss Austin. I know I ask myself and D on a regular basis how we would react if in years to come Ali informed us she was dating someone 25 years her senior. How on earth could we disapprove of that?

Thus far in my life I have had the fortune to fall in love twice - what I define as 'love' to myself. The first ended in heart break for me and the second I believe to be very much alive but always being tested.

When I first met D he was to be my boss as I was being interviewed to be a catering assistant in a local leisure complex. Being quite young at this time, still to complete my education in the form of university, and recently left reeling from being mistreated emotionally by my previous choice of male; I was in no hurry to have the knife plunged and twisted into my heart again any time soon. What I thought was a crush driven by lustful thoughts for a considerably older man changed over a period of two years into something more intriguing. Of course I was still learning about myself and the world around me as an adult, but after two wondering years I felt that this may be something more. This time was the closest I became to the era and forbidden feelings of Miss Austin. The glances, trying to touch him 'accidentally' on purpose, non-subtle hints for a lift home. It all got lost so quickly.

Maybe I expect too much. Do I still secretly hope for the fairytale? Maybe my expectations will always exceed reality. Maybe it's not the brightest idea to ply our kids with fairy tales and make believe because they might become very disappointed later in life. However, although you wouldn't believe it from my most recent posts, ever the optimist, I choose to believe that the present is just a demon to overcome and reign triumphant against. I try to have faith that my love will hold strong, and while I anxiously debate my love life, I would put serious money on that D thinks there is nothing wrong!

Night shifts for the foreseeable future

On our way to the library (a very cost effective afternoon out), I was quite dumb-founded to be informed by my little car that it was 3 degrees in the form of an ice-alert. Ice! 3 degrees! In October.....October! And too right. It has been bloody freezing. We are now in the times of socks a well as shoes, and coats and jumpers on rather than in the car or in a bag at the ready. While the insufferable weather of winter draws ever near, I am now adapting my new love and collection of shoes by branching out into boots! Hoorah for boots!

An update on the relationship dramatics. Last night became the opportunity to right the previous weeks trauma. Although one becomes a little weary of always being the one making the effort to amend things. Perhaps wrongly I did not venture into conversation over the way I had felt recently, but focused more on intimacy and touch - something seldom found between us of late. In a flippant flirtatious remark I responded to D's 'god I ache all over, my body is old and giving up', with, 'maybe I should shoot you now and claim on your insurance'. It got a laugh - but then D almost ruined the whole situation with a mood killing 'did you here that a cat in the village was shot?!' Perfect timing. Delightful pillow talk. Well, to cut the story short we overcame the delay in 'the moment', however although the intense feeling has resolved between us, something still doesn't feel right. Not quite sure what is the right move now.

I am so excited about my night shifts tonight and tomorrow, I can hardly contain my excitement...... Very low morale at work at present. Ever increasing stress levels and ever decreasing praise for performance under difficult circumstances, combined with an emerging 'blame culture' and increasingly defensive practice. Not nice to say the least. And it is the women who will suffer - or will at least have miserable midwives! At least I didn't get the night shift with the extra hour! Be thankful for small mercies.

Slowly upward

Talk about multi-tasking. I am eating my pudding (yeah no digs about trying to lose weight please - not today), while writing this in my blog, along with listening to music (walk of life - Dire Straits), instant messaging my best friend in Paris and checking my email/facebook. What a woman hey! There's nothing like Dire Straits to drag you up from rock bottom. Second choice - Status Quo. Third choice (but my favourite really) The Boss. Because I'm 'Waitin' on a sunny day' while talking about our 'Glory Days' and 'Dancing in the Dark'. And fourth/fifth rockin' choices are Bob Sinclair - 'Rock this party' and the Fratellis 'Chelsea Dagger', because I defy anyone to try and stay still throughout these tracks. Once feeling better starts to fade, repeat cycle. If all else fails put on beautiful heeled shoes and shake hips until you have blisters, while looking at pictures of Daniel Craig. The physical pain and 'be still my beating heart' feeling will detract from the emotional pain! Guaranteed to work if you do enough dancing, in the correct manner, and have the right pictures! Let me dance, let me dance, I wanna dance like no one is watching!!!

I am so excited about seeing my best friend in November for bonfire weekend. I cannot wait. Life is so much duller without her. We can have a good old catch up, she can see Ali - who is kind of her god-daughter but we are not religious so not officially. Did I say I cant wait?!!!

Is the one remaining positive in my life fading?

After several unfruitful early nights and a collection of night shifts meaning only one person in our bed at any given time of day; my hopes were fixed on last night as an opportunity for me ad D to catch up with each other. How could I have been more wrong. D arrived home knackered and exhausted as usual, having been totally overworked. There was no conversation, no affection, no reduction of physical proximity - at all. He walked in, checked the sport results, read the paper a bit, ate the meal I prepared, and come time to turn in - promptly fell asleep. The entire evening I felt like a limpet as I tried to the extreme to even remotely entice him, or simply to get a reassuring touch. Enraged and in fear I may say something I would regret, I got out of bed, headed downstairs, and took solace in Daniel Craig being interviewed by Johnathon Ross. And that was as close to 'hot' as I got.

Tonight D had really gone all out to make sure I didn't have anything to do, but in terms of body contact I have counted one embrace that was reciprocated. Nothing initiated. And here I am watching TV on my own at 2030pm on a Saturday evening. What the hell happened to my life? The worst of it is the feeling of inadequacy and failure. Crappy housewife and unable to excite or even interest my man. Not being wanted - a million times worse than him being unfaithful. Pretty shit feeling. I'm rock bottom - and not for the first time.

Celibacy

So, following the screams and heartache of last nights shift, I am now celibate.....haha, yeah, not quite! But I reckon it will be sometime before any more kids! I am sure D will be glad to hear that - along with my bank account. The words 'I AM PUSHING!' are so familiar..........

Another night shift beckons after a spirit filled whole half hour with D before I go, as we pass like ships in the night, again. Ali is tarting to flake out while watching Dora which will help come bedtime.

Had lunch with a good friend of mine the other day. What we thought was going to be a quaint little cafe, was a room at the back of a local pub, with the owners 'hard of hearing' grand-mother taking orders from a chair in the kitchen doorway. When we thought we couldn't laugh anymore a waitress brought our cutlery and place mats - I will rephrase that - our cutlery and squares of lino! Disbelief. But it was great for us to catch up, an the portion sizes were enormous. Even bottomless me couldn't finish my jacket potato.

News flash! I have new, very gorgeous shoes! They are slightly tight (ordered them online), but they are so pretty that I may have to forfeit comfort in favour of crippled feet in their honour. Leather will give right?

Stashes, Rashes, remedying crashes, and Badlashes!

Commiserations to the girls from the North East who were voted off the X Factor last week. Badlashes were no-where near the worst act performing during the show and we should be ashamed of ourselves for not being more supportive of the talent from our neck of the woods. I'm sorry Girlband but you weren't even in tune, and if Scott wins then we are destined for Shane Ward all over again. It's our loss because those girls could have been so entertaining, as we saw from their auditions. Don't give up girls, because when you give up on your dreams you regret it for the rest of your life!

Sadly I did not get to watch the show on Saturday as I was in a 4* hotel enjoying my 'hote cuisine' with D for our anniversary - courtesy of me I hasten to add. Well....when we found the hotel anyway. In true 'Bridget Jones' style the hotel location I thought we were heading for was actually a restaurant, and I had no idea where the hotel was at all. While driving round Newcastle trying to find the hotel, I realised it was time to swallow my pride and ring them for directions. (It was their fault anyway because they had said they would send me a map and didn't!) Decision made just in time as D was beginning to get very irate and he had a splitting headache - good start to the evening. After several attempts we made it, with the help of a very attentive concierge guiding us every step of the way by phone - embarrassing doesn't even come close. Of course I cheered up no end as he insisted on parking our car for us. This is how the other half live!

Although the decor was dated and tired, the staff were friendly and our room was great. Double bed (all you need really), sofa's, a TV with many channels (like we will be watching that), a desk (err.....not working, thank god), a mini bar, (woohoo!), and a bathroom. No sooner were we in it than there was a knock at the door with our champagne and canapes. Fabulous darling!

Dinner was approaching, but still hungry after the 3 canapes each we decided we needed £4.50 worth of minuscule packet of nuts and £1.50 worth of tiny tube of Pringles. At dinner the food was of a different league altogether - although I did feel a little uncomfortable in the fancy restaurant. Using my 'Pretty Woman' found knowledge of restaurant etiquette I started from the outside and worked in where my cutlery was concerned, and of course wasn't in the least bit surprised as the waiter placed the napkin on my lap for me! Unable to get away from work even on my anniversary, I was nervous to see the very heavily pregnant woman also dining with us in the restaurant, and became twitchy as scenes of 'hotel birthing' ran through my mind.

You don't need the details of the finale to the evening as this is both too much information - and could be considered a bit gross, so I will simply add about the unbelievable 'power shower' that nearly wrestled me to the ground as I used it the next morning. Oh how I wish I had one of those to wake me up with a full 'pelting' massage every morning.

A lengthy walk around Newcastle and a bunch of wooden roses later it was time to collect Ali from my mothers house and rejoin the real world. I also had a shift at work that evening - which actually became a severe migraine and a return home at something past midnight. Too much in too little time, compiled with stress attacking from every angle, left me fumbling around trying to find my bed in the dark because I couldn't bear to put the lights on, and D nearly through the roof as he wondered who the hell was getting into bed with him! Slightly worrying however that he didn't hear me crash through the back door, stumble into the lounge and make a phone call, and use and flush the toilet before I got into bed. He's going to be so useful in the event of an intruder! Just 'me' and the 'candlestick', in the 'bedroom' then.

Also crammed into the last few days was the repair of my little car. My lovely brother surprised me with the part to replace the 'dunched' wing that I 'obtained' last December, and I had it fitted. It was an excellent job from the boys at Winlaton Garage, everyone will be none the wiser.......

In reflection of my daughters latest antics, I have found one of her latest behaviours hilarious to say the least. I have aptly named it 'stashing', because, well, that's what it is. For weeks I have been looking for the red hand-towel missing in action from our kitchen, then the other day while cleaning, found it shoved between the TV cabinet and the wall, along with a small doll wrapped in a flannel, a hair clip, a stone, a sock and a sandal. I have since found two more stashes of a similar nature -one involving an absent oven glove. Weird.

On a very positive note, the bizarre rash that had presented on the back of Ali's legs and on her buttocks; that wasn't chicken pox or meningitis (yes I rolled a glass across the blotches), has now miraculously disappeared. None of us are any the wiser as to its cause, including the GP, who is probably being payed hundreds of thousands to say - 'its not chicken pox and I couldn't be sure of what has caused it, but she is well in herself so I wouldn't worry'. Genius.

Quite a 'to do' at the zoo

Having been distracted by the life insurance incident, I absent mindedly forgot to report back on our trip to Edinburgh Zoo. Another eventful day to go down in history as badly planned and clumsily executed to say the least.

Unbelievably we were all up and dressed on time Monday morning and set off for the zoo about 0810am. Once underway it dawned on me that the camera was still lying on the desk in the lounge and was not in my bag where I had intended it to be. With no time to return home to collect it, I began a torrent of self directed verbal abuse, which ended with a decision to buy and use a disposable camera in combination with my mobile phone camera.

As we hit Edinburgh it became evident that the AA Route Map instructions we were following were wrong. Either that or we had severely mis-read them. A lengthy drive around Edinburgh developed, which I addressed by halting us at ASDA to ask for directions. Bad directions and my bad memory led to a further episode of denying being 'lost', before we drove past the zoo several times endeavouring to find the entrance to the car park.

Little did we know that this was the least of our problems. Now 1210pm we were paying for our parking ticket when we began to see smoke coming from the bonnet of the alpha. We pulled into a space and D lifted the hood. What came next can only be described as a torrent of shouting and cursing as D despaired at what he had done. Before leaving he had filled the oil tank, but he had not replaced the screw top. To say that the oil had spilled out all over the engine was an understatement. You could hardly see the engine for all the oil. Instructing Ali to remain in the car and shutting the doors to cut out any audible vocabulary, I provided D with all the tissues and wipes I could lay my hands on, and consulted the ever impressive and attentive AA for advice. A yellow angel arrived within the hour and spectacularly found the screw top in the tray under the engine. Maybe someone was watching over us after all.

Now then, for those of you who have not had the fortune or opportunity to visit Edinburgh Zoo, let me just inform you of a very important fact. The zoo is positioned and built on a very large hill! Please let me assure you I was not so naive to think that there would not be a considerable amount of walking to do on this excursion, but I had not factored in the hill. So on arrival my mind spun as to how I was going to encourage Ali to keep going for the remainder of the day. In hindsight a lightweight folding pushchair may have been a wise.

Well, we managed to see the majority of all the animals and Ali did very well, although she did report on a regular basis that she was 'tired of walking, and running... and pedaling' ??? We just tried to distract her and keep her going. Getting home very late that evening I was mortified to realise that Ali had got blisters on her feet from all the walking. I felt like a total failure as a parent and so incredibly guilty. She had tried to tell us and we had not listened. In her totally positive manner she never even complained about them again - this didn't make me feel any better though. There's certainly no instruction book to parenting - we seem to forever be learning the hard way!

We did enjoy the day but it was tiring for all. My advice to others;

1) Replace the lid on the oil tank once filled.

2) Get comprehensive directions and consult a road map

3) If taking little ones, add a pushchair to the baggage

4) Arrive in plenty of time to allow for rest breaks

5) Take a camera with a zoom feature otherwise your zebra in a field may as well be a cow in a field!

In other news, today is the day of our celebration of being together for 5 years. The cold I was worried about has turned out to be the smallest problem factoring into my plans. Being a woman has interfered with a vengeance leaving me totally depressed about the whole thing. I am trying to be positive and convince myself that it will still be lovely and romantic, and at least we will get a good nights sleep! It's not working though.

Life Insurance

Over the years I have started to realise that there are many poignant moments in life. The majority of these are special or endearing moments like memories with loved ones or children, or laughing hysterically while reminiscing over losing ones virginity. Imagine my consuming horror when the simple task of arranging life insurance developed into one of my memoirs.

Simply realising that life insurance was an important and necessary part of my life now and considering the act of organizing such cover, had led to a cascade of dramatic thoughts and emotions, which plunged me into a state of anxiety and despair at the very possibility of my daughter being motherless. My imagination would run wildly into one nightmare after another as I imagined horrendous situations leading to my elimination, or even worse, the eradication of both her parents. This in turn developed into scenes of ghastly children’s homes and/or abusive carers, which naturally became an inevitable life of wasted education, drink, drugs and sexual disease. So you can see how easily this was spiralling way out of control.

As fate would have it apparently I had ‘recently answered a survey’ in which I had ‘expressed an interest in being quoted for life insurance cover’, and so Mr Tim had called me to primarily see ‘how I was this morning’ and to offer to help me in my quest. Obviously this was the best time to agree given it was an hour and a half until I had to have Ali at nursery and neither of us had been showered, dressed or had lunch.

All was going swimmingly and I was enjoying a mid morning flirt with Mr Tim on the phone as he talked me through the initial questions and terms and conditions of the policy. Suddenly I was plunged into desolation as the most dreaded of all questions reared its ugly head. ‘Your height please?’, and there was no mistaking what was coming next. ‘And your weight please?’ A lump in my throat the size of a mammoth rendered me completely speechless – something very unusual for me. My response – ‘is that imperative to the quote?’ (of course it is – they want to know if I’m the size of a whale so they can deduce if I’m going to explode, have a heart attack or die of diabetes or something). Whispering my answer as if it would make it more bearable, depression swooped over me, and the words ‘yeah unfortunately I haven’t lost the baby weight yet’ flew out of my mouth as if pleading for acceptance. Praying for the ground to swallow me up, I swear I heard a change in Mr Tim’s tone of voice. I was no longer the ‘pin up girl’ he was imagining while conversing – it was back to purely business talk. Not even an ounce of flattery.

At the bargain price of £10 a month I get a large lump sum payout in the event of my death and our mortgage paid off in full. My death can be under any circumstances, to include diagnosis of critical illness (ie. cancer) at any point from agreeing to the policy; but excludes suicide, or I’m guessing - death by embarrassment or self indulgent and gluttonous comfort eating in response to sales consultant induced depression.

A tub of Ben and Jerry’s later – decision made to direct all efforts into searching for my original figure no matter how difficult.

Excellent day today. After a long debate about how to spend the day earlier this morning, decision was to drive to Kielder Water and visit the Bird of Prey Centre. Unaware that this centre even existed I agreed this was an brilliant suggestion from D, and I think may have been even more excited than Ali!

There was a moment along the way as the winding roads got to me and the fertilizer became ever so slightly revolting, that I thought 'was this really the best idea?'; but once there it was great. The staff were so friendly and showed us round explaining about the birds. Ali was made up.

The 'Piece De Resistance' was definitely the flying show which I was so glad we made in time. Several members of the staff demonstrated how they flew the birds during the 'season' which was now ending, and explained how actually most of the birds do not wish to fly but only do so to catch food. Otherwise they do a lot of sitting around. This did put my mind at ease as I was worried they may be quite bored! One member of staff also explained how conservation actually prolongs the life of many of the birds considerably, along with raising money for preservation of species along the way.

At one point I had 'Deed' the European Eagle Owl millimetres from my head as the falconer stood right behind me (without telling me - I hasten to add!), and called him over. I literally thought he was going to fly into me he was so low. I ducked and let out a sneaky swear word as the other spectators howled with laughter. Hilariously stomach churning.

Finale - The Black Kite who had meticulous vision and observation skills. You could see him focusing so intently as each trick was performed. As pieces of meat were thrown into the air he would swoop in on them mid flight and eat them while flying - without the need to land. Those watching were allowed an attempt to fling the food respectively for the bird. At this point I allowed D to take the spotlight as I had no desire or inclination to touch dead animal shreds! I only hope I have the fortune to see some of these birds in the wild someday!

Overall fabulous experience - recommended to adults and children 3 to 93. Ali is three and although her attention span is not great, she seemed to really enjoy it too, and I was just so pleased we were spending some quality time together!

While we are in good spirits and feeling brave, tomorrow it's going to be Edinburgh Zoo!

Gonna have to start planting trees on account of the ever increasing tissue usage!

Is it possible for a three year old to have OCD? Ali is obsessed with a) washing her hands, and b) removing anything black - eg. Burnt bits on food or muck on shoes etc. I thought kids love to make a mess? Maybe this is my fault. Maybe I haven't allowed her to be messy enough. It is probably down to me. I mean, today I was buying 'crafty things' for Christmas from 'Hobby-Craft', and all of the gifts were 'tidy' craft sets, or 'no mess' compilations. And I am the kind of mother who wont allow the play dough out of the pot without a large plastic mat and my constant supervision. The mother who demands colouring inside the lines and hair to be blow dried immediately before it drys naturally and uncontrollably. Yep, I guess I answered my own question. It couldn't have come from anywhere else. Perhaps her Grandad - who likes everything at ninety degree angles!

So, I am one week away from the luxury evening for two that I booked for me and D to celebrate five years together. Still riddled with a vicious cold I am getting very worried. At this rate I have paid through the roof for champagne that will stimulate a coughing fit, a three course meal I can't taste, and an expensive nights disturbed sleep - with a pretty view. Bloody typical.

Extract from my book - comments please

Childbirth

On the morning I went into labour with Ali I remember how the cat stayed very close to me. My mind threw back to Lorraine Kelly on morning TV talking about something similar happening to her when she started to contract with one of her children. The cat knew that something was going to happen, and it wasn’t long before I knew too!

Straining my eyes as it became daylight I wandered through to the bathroom, cat very close behind me. I had stomach cramps, like as if I was starting my menstrual cycle but this was nothing new, I had been experiencing these for weeks. At one point I had convinced myself that Ali was going to be 2 weeks early – I was now exactly a week overdue and becoming increasingly fed up.

No sooner had I lowered myself to the toilet, than the entire contents of my digestive tract emptied – stat – into the basin. This continued, for some time. I thought maybe I was ill. A stomach bug or I had eaten something dodgy. But as this thought drifted out of my mind the pain struck hard. Immediately contracting every 3-5minutes, thick and fast, my abdomen tightening with such strength that it made me feel sick, I prayed that I was actually labouring and not being completely pathetic. There was none of the gradual ‘build-up’ from crampy pains to increasingly strong contractions that I had been learning about for near on 3 years; no time to focus and get myself psychologically in the right ‘frame of mind’.

When my gut was empty I ‘hobbled’ back through to the bedroom, clutching my belly, where I proceeded to inform D that I was in labour – or if I wasn’t then my pain threshold was zero and I needed an epidural – now! I have never seen D move so fast. Bouncing out of the bed he quickly phoned work and returned to my side. Worried I wasn’t in labour I rang the hospital for advice. As I was told to take paracetamol and have a warm bath, I bit my tongue, ended the conversation and threw the phone across the room. I knew that advice all to well. I had regurgitated this advice on many occasions.

The perpetrator of the advice was right about one thing. I needed a wash. There was no way that I was going to set foot in a hospital and have the intimate care that was about to occur without having a shower. This was my pet hate. When you are 41 weeks pregnant, there are things that you can’t do – practicality just doesn’t allow. For example, undertaking an aerobics class or sex in the missionary position with someone other than a contortionist. Maintaining hygiene is not one of them. Adamant I would be clean on entering my labour room, I ‘puffed’ my way through the quickest shower ever and pulled on something baggy and black.

Still part of me felt I should be waiting some time before making that all important trip to the hospital, that I was going to be deemed ‘weak’ and ‘not yet in established labour’. D persuaded me otherwise as I struggled into the ‘alpha romeo’ where her forced me to sit on eight layers of towel as a precaution should my waters break. Erm…priorities!

The journey was horrendous. I couldn’t move about or breath properly because my lungs were so cramped. The 25 minute journey seemed like an eternity but then suddenly we were there at the maternity unit. I had done a week as an elective placement in the same maternity unit and knew it was a good hospital, and I knew just the midwife I was going to ask for.

Stopping every so often to breath and moan, as we worked our way through the corridors, I remember everyone staring – I knew they were thinking ‘rather you than me’, and ‘will she get there in time’, but it didn’t affect me for long as the next wave of agony would rupture into full force and I would be clinging onto something as if for dear life.

On the labour ward I was taken to the ‘admission room’ – the room we take people when we don’t believe they are in established labour. I wanted to cry. Surely this much pain had to mean I was in labour or they were going to have to knock me out.

6cm – hoorah – now give me the damn gas and air! I was moved to a labour room where the midwife gave me the entonox, which I virtually snatched from her. Ironically the midwife I had hoped for was not working that day, but I had a lovely midwife, for what I remember of her.

It took a while to get changed into my nightie (why we all feel the need to birth in nightie’s is still beyond me) as I didn’t have much time between contractions. They were getting closer together and certainly increasingly painful. It is so hard to explain the pain. Intense, crippling, extreme, severe, relentless. In my native Geordie language ‘it bloody knacks like nothing I’ve ever felt in my entire life’. In truth I caved and could not cope with it any longer. At 6 cm I could be another 5 hours in labour at least, if I were to progress an average of a cm an hour as the ‘books’ relate. I didn’t think for a second I would last that long.
Just my luck – No diamorphine. I didn’t want the pethidine but I had to have something so I agreed. Big mistake. Big, big mistake.

Communication central

Mother has been on the phone ranting about her stubborn mother, my gran. She is hilariously making a mountain out of a mole hill again - not realising that she is being just as obnoxious, because neither of them are willing to change their plans for each other! So this is what I have to look forward to as I age! At least D will be long gone by then and wont have to endure me through it!

Gran has been on the phone, Ali's great grandmother. We are visiting her tomorrow. She lives in Cumbria about 2 hours from here. Have reassured her we will come as early as possible, but will ring her in the morning as we are leaving (or she will have kittens worrying about us).

Mother in Law has been on the phone. She is moving to a new flat over the next few days with Atholl Davidson - the movers, not her brother - and she is having someone come to measure for carpets. Mmmhmmmm.

Good friend of mine from uni called. Lots to catch up on. Phone battery now dead.

D is watching the football - no conversation from him, therefore its just as well everybody is ringing. I wouldn't dream of even trying to talk to him, it would be like drawing blood from a stone.

My brother has not answered my text or phoned- guessing girlfriend is still there!

Let me.....entertain you!

In a united front to battle this cold and misery (ok, so the latter may be a little dramatic); we decided to go to the circus and have some fun! A totally animal free circus I might add! Ali was very excited, yet she kept forgetting what it was called and repeated 'when we go to the.....', awaiting my entry of circus to complete her enquiries. I have to admit I was also quite excited. I think it was the anticipation of seeing her enjoying our day out. We went with some friends, so there was a little man of her age with us too.

Not quite in the spirit of things I spent the first part of the show trying to work out where the third 'ring' was in 'Uncle Sam's American Three Ring Circus', as under my observation there were only two. However I do need my eyes testing again. My next goal was to position us on our chairs without them tipping forward - which I decided was going to be near impossible. After diverting the children's attention from the expensive strobe light toys to the start of the show, we were entertained by a steady stream of acts; an eclectic mix of slap-stick comedy to poor taste performances bordering very close to inappropriate humour, with a few actual circus tricks in for good measure - so that they could actually call it a circus.

To ensure you do no think me too cynical in this world of children's entertainment, there were some very good heart stopping acts within the show. I was extremely impressed by the roller-skating duo who circled a silver platform about 2 metres in diameter, 'flinging' each other in all sorts of directions. At one point when the male of the partnership attached a strap to his neck and proceeded to attach it to his partners head, I could feel the intensity inside myself. Spinning her round at increasing rate she then began to spin round herself mid air on an axis placed in the centre of the strap. The volume of the audience was enough to demonstrate the success of the trick. No trapeze or tight-rope though, much to my dismay.

Finale time did not fail to deliver as well. Unbelievably three guys on motorbikes entered a metal sphere cage and performed an array of tricks inside with very little space between them! I am convinced that I actually heard two of them clip each other slightly at one point. Fantastic finish. Well, the kids loved most of it and that was the whole point - so successful trip out overall.

On a more adult entertainment level - I have spent a small fortune on a dirty night away for me and D in celebration of our 5 years together. A package entitled 'Moonlight n Vermont' - to include champagne and canapes on arrival, a three course evening meal, the nights stay in the Vermont Hotel (Newcastle Quayside - 4 star), breakfast the next morning - and the best bit - check out time of 7pm! What on earth are we going to do all day.......?

I must end this post. I can no longer fight the tears now welling in my eyes because Nemo's mother has just been killed by the barracuda.

Rage

Gutted - the house that I hoped to place an offer on when ours sold is no longer on the market. They have not sold it but have decided not to continue to attempt to sell. I had fallen in love with it. I could see us all in it. Ali in the garden with a trampoline at the bottom, playing around without me having to worry about her. Having friends around for dinner, sitting together at night watching TV. A sink that Ali can actually reach to wash her hands after going to the toilet! Bloody nightmare. I am so furious with the whole damn situation. Somebody just buy this house so I can get the hell out of it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the background the TV is showing a programme about staying a virgin until your wedding day! Jesus (yeah it is pretty religious) - in my case I would be waiting to infinity and beyond. Although completely ludicrous, I did get quite emotional. Something they said relating to the relationships these girls have with their dad really broke me. But the word 'warped' came to mind. And these girls are indoctrinated into protecting their virginity from the age of about 6. Six. How can a six year old make any kind of informed decision about her future relationships. Six. They have a ball every year to celebrate it. The world has gone mad. Or America has. Or always has been. (All feelings expressed in this blog are simply my opinion based solely on impression/observation and in no way represent fact or even a particularly researched insight into topics discussed - do not sue me I have no money!)

Generally in a shitty mood tonight. Aside from being gutted and emotional, my throat feels like its on fire (and not in a good way), my wisdom teeth are throbbing (wisdom has nothing to do with it), and my head is pounding and so tight to the frontal area it might explode. So sitting here in front of the computer is not going to help.

Bloody madness!

I wish I could sing 'working nine to five', but its more 'working 24/7, what a way to stop you living' at the moment! Having finished my seventh day in a row I collapsed in a heap on the sofa tonight and fell asleep, while my good as gold daughter watched 'ceebeebies' quietly and allowed me to nap. Waking to 'Chris and Poi' singing about 'the time is now, to say goodnight, to say goodnight till the morning light', I realised my poor neglected daughter had had no evening meal and hadn't even complained. Rustling up some pasta very quickly, my mind returned to a woman I was caring for earlier today. For some unknown reason I still seem to have difficulty distancing myself from certain cases. Because I care for the women I look after I often bring home my worries and fears for them. I have to find some way of putting these aside from my home life. At the minute it is just healthy 'caring for people', but it could easily drive me bonkers. No doubt I will be ringing in the morning to find out how she is doing!

Super-dad swooped in again today to rescue our 'lack of childcare' situation. Thank you super-dad! Incidentally Ali loves spending time with her Grandad, which helps! He always had a way of being completely entertaining to kids. And he really can make up a song on the spot about absolutely anything!

The whole world and their dogs, yes dogs, seem to be getting married, except for me! To say I am jealous at this stage would be a gut-wrenching understatement. A colleague at work brought in her wedding photos today, (for which she paid over a grand!), and she looked so unbelievably happy, and so beautiful. She said herself that she had been lucky enough to love two people across her life time and why shouldn't she celebrate loving someone all over again. Hear here!

So, hilariously, I have bought a 'step' and step aerobics DVD! Ha! - because the mountain must come to Mohammad as Mohammad can't get to the mountain (or in this case the gym!). I have taken decisive action to do something about my weight, without spending any money which will be needed for new house and wedding, on abdominal surgery! The fact that I am trying to persuade myself to get up half an hour earlier EVERY DAY to do at least part of the dvd is most comical. The majority of days I already get up at 0530hrs! So with 5 mins to get kit on and half an hour to do it that means 0455hrs. Am I bloody mad! No doubt in a few months I will be sporting such improved tone and fitness, I will be 'sprinting' down to the local sports store to purchase an 'up the bum' leotard, so I can show off my 'Call on me' moves!

Me and D are having a well deserved night out tomorrow, a meal and a flick. Surprisingly D came home one evening and stated he was keen to see the 'Mamma Mia' movie, so scraping my jaw up from the floor I arranged it before he had a chance to change his mind. Uncle Iain is babysitting - lucky Uncle Iain! This I am sure will be an experience for him, having only minded her during the day previously and having never had to put her to bed! He has already decided he will unlikely have kids on the basis of my daughter and his niece! This might just finish him and make his mind up once and for all! Good luck to him!

It's been a long time......

To say it has been a long time since I last wrote is a bit of an understatement. January. It is now the middle of July, that's nearly half a year. So aside from stating the obvious, we have some catching up to do.

This year did not begin so well for us all, which is why I took some time out from writing. My feelings were unclear, as many emotions took over all of us. Petty worries like ex-wives became insignificant as D's father, who had been diagnosed with cancer over the Christmas period, became ill very quickly, with March approaching. We had already made plans to fly out to New Zealand at the end of March as his initial diagnosis had given him up to 6 months. March was upon us when it became clear that his time was coming very quickly. Doctors had been advising D's sister, who also lives out there, to wait for further tests before getting us out there too - so we adhered to their advice. Despite a last minute attempt to move our flights forward it was too late and he had gone within 2 days of his health becoming drastically more concerning. So D had not seen his father in 4 years and his father had never met his grand-daughter or new daughter-in-law to be.

Full of bitterness and anger we made the horrendous and long trip out to NZ for the funeral with my almost 3 year old daughter in tow, whose excitement quickly turned to boredom. The trip and meeting with rest of D's family on the other side of the world, which I had looked forward to for years, became three weeks of tears, tough times and goodbyes. Guilt and anger virtually silenced D and I barely knew how to grieve for the father in law I had never physically met. While there I turned to my writing for comfort in the absence of my own family and friends for support. I wrote to D's father in an attempt make peace with myself over what had happened, however D is still far from peace himself.

I am not a religious person, but I do feel I have what I can only term as 'faith'. I do not know 'what in' and I don't think there is a being which I believe represents this 'faith'; but I think most people, including me, would like to believe there is 'something' or 'someplace' greater than this reality. If we are right and there is such a place, then I hope he is there at peace himself.

Ali however thought the 'holiday' was fantastic. D's relatives have a lot of land and she and her cousin just ran around all day. She had so much freedom, I felt so cruel when we got back home and had so many restrictions and rules to reinforce.

Prior to leaving we had our loft conversion completed, which all needed decorating on return, so we went from exhaustion from travelling and anxiety, to knackered from all the work which was being done. If I never see a paintbrush in a million years it will be to soon!

We are back into reality now and a few months on, slowly feeling better. Financial pressures are getting us down, but Ali keeps us going with her comedy comments. She did a classic the other day when we visited the new Marks and Spencer in Hexham. As we past the tights for sale, demonstrated by manikin legs she very loudly decided to ask 'why are those legs kicking mammy?' which cracked me up and several of the sales staff also.

The economy is hitting us hard, as it is with most of the population. Our house just will not sell due to the ? recession, ? no recession problems, and don't even start me on a rant about the petrol prices. So, I'm watching the news for the first time in ages last night and I have tuned in just in time to see Gordon Brown at the meeting of world leaders, swinging on his revolving chair as if he is 7 years old. Our prime minister, who is 'running' this country. The mind boggles.

Defenses threatened

Not content with my first night of horror, I ended up watching 'Alien vs Predator' the next evening, which I knew would have me a complete nervous wreck. This sudden craving for fear and adrenaline, be it partying or scary movies, makes me wonder if I am in need of something else in my life. Before I go all happy clappy, psychology on you, I don't mean something spiritual per say, just something for me. A hobby, or past-time that could be a source of fun, interest and exhilaration, without being to life threatening. Something that would really get me excited, that I could look forward to, and that would be a release for my ever increasing stress levels. So should anyone have any ideas then they are very welcome! Of course the only other requirement is that this cannot cost much! And before anyone suggests sex, I get plenty of that thanks!

More to the point, my weekend has been interesting to say the least. Friday began with great anticipation for the evening's plans, having spent the majority of Thursday trying on outfits and attempting to decided between 'hot and slutty' and 'smart-casual and sexy'. Following lunch with my brother and father I did feel quite ill, however this was not enough to interfere with my escapades, but it did mean having to drink less! Shame.

Although late for my train and having to drive for the first part of the evening - meaning no drink full stop - the night was thoroughly enjoyed by all. Not having been out clubbing since the previous April I completely let my hair down, even though the club was just as terrible as I remember from my younger days, and virtually empty, on a Friday night? Bizarre.

I did however bump into my ex briefly as I was staying in town with a friend. He looked unhappy, I looked just fabulous, and it felt good to genuinely feel nothing for him, good about myself and happy with my partner and family. His loss, my gain and lucky escape!

So the weekend continued with an 'ex' theme as D's ex wife came to collect some belongings that were still in our loft! Now some people tell me I am a saint to have kept them thus far, but I am trying so hard not to let my jealous and psychotic streak run free at this point, and I definitely didn't want to appear childish. I spent a day and a half trying to ensure the house was spotless and gorgeous, and that me and Ali looked fantastic. My emotions, god, I cant seem to make any sense of them. D is always telling me he doesn't feel anything for her now and its me he wants, lah-dee-da, but I just cant seem to believe him and get on with life.

I was so anxious about the whole thing. She only stayed for five minutes, didn't even have a coffee, but it was still way to long. OK, so start from the beginning. I had to make a trip to the tip and shop therefore I only arrived home as she was walking into my house. Seeing her walk into my house - my house - was enough to distract me as I parked, sorry, collided the car into the wall of the parking space. Rapidly following her in I dumped the shopping and continued into the house where I said hello and then proceeded to stare out the window at her and D as he helped her into the car with the boxes of stuff. They cant have talked for more than a few minutes but it seemed like an eternity. Trying to watch from the window but look like I wasn't purposefully watching them was hard, but I did not like the way D was playing with his hair, so I resolved to send Ali out to see her daddy and then follow her out as if I was worried about her. This seemed to interrupt them which was annoying but good as she proceeded to leave. I said goodbye, as did D and Ali, and that was it.

This 5 minutes was enough to have me completely obsessive and totally scared out of my brain that this all 'meant something' in the grand scheme of things. I have never pretended to like the fact that D had been married before, but in the beginning it didn't matter so much because we were just dating. Moving in together and having Ali happened so quickly, along with me trying to finish my degree and get a job that I have never really thought about it properly. She had cropped up in conversations before and I had not been happy about it, but I had never thought about it properly and how I felt emotionally. She was definitely no threat in terms of looks, as I had age on my side, (as far as I'm aware I have no grey hairs yet - yes!) but she was skinnier than me, which is not hard, and the whole world knows how un-confident I have become since childbearing. I couldn't help but still feel threatened, why shouldn't I feel defensive and be alert to a threat towards my family/relationship - surely that is an animal/biological instinct? All I could think as I saw her with him was - 'there was once a carnal lust and attraction between you, that could still be there; you both had sex, regularly; you were married; she has your name!'

D was so quiet for the rest of the day, I didn't know if this was good or bad and proceeded to fill the silence with more obsessiveness, which I think made things worse. So I tried to really open up to him last night. I told him how worried it made me, and how I could only assume that my fear of things being ruined between us was caused by my previous experiences of relationships - ie. my dad leaving my mum, and my ex using me while still in love with someone else. Alas he just said he understood but continued in his silence and fell asleep, so I am no further forward. I have quite a frontal headache from deliberating everything all weekend.

All things considered, I am determined to enjoy my last few days off. D has the next two days off also, so I am hoping that we can all have some quality time together, really talk about everything.

Purposeful partying

Well I have started my week and a half off work by watching some horror film on TV. I am so going to have nightmares tonight. In fact I have started to blog in order to avoid having to completely focus on it. Of course some kind of in born need to see the endings to films having begun to watch them, compels me to see it through; although despite being as far from squeamish as humanly possible given my career choice, I am definitely feeling fairly sick at this point.

Last night on the contrary was a laugh a minute, as a group of us went out for a meal into Newcastle. (Keegan, Keegan!). No, not to the football, to an Italian - but in evening dresses. Which bright spark came up with that idea then? Not guilty for once. Mutton dressed as lamb comes to mind. Alas I spent most of the night holding my gorgeous, hideously expensive dress off the floor as it trailed all over the place.

Of course we thought the night had started quite well as we got parked very close to the restaurant; but it soon became apparent that it was going to go rapidly downhill as I tried to fasten the buckle on my heels on arrival, but could not reach my feet given the restraints of the fitted cleavage section to my dress. So bum in the air, sticking into the road, and legs up onto the car seat was the only way forward, not surprisingly causing a stir among drunken rowdy passers by and attracting plenty of car horns. Evidently no wolf whistles, just mocking cheers and 'oioi's' - damn.

Feeling slightly over-dressed, myself and a friend made our way to meet the others, which may sound fairly straight forward, but neither of us are exactly 'comfortable' in heels. We must have looked a shocking sight as we fumbled along to the restaurant, trying to stay upright and keep our gowns down in the wind.

Perhaps it was fate that I was driving and could not drink alcohol as our table in the restaurant was on the the third floor, two sets of stairs up, one of them a spiral staircase; and the toilets were then three flights of stairs down! So still upright on reaching our table, I decided this was an appropriate time to trial the strength of my bladder.

Nice meal, good company, met a few new interesting people. Food I'm not supposed to eat a plenty - including a pudding of course - which was nearly omitted in favour of coffee; 'aahhemm', excuse me while I nearly choke at the thought of favouring coffee over a dessert. Decision was to share a 'Death by chocolate' with a friend in order to prevent death from too many calories.

Of course consensus was to go for a drink following the meal, and who wouldn't choose a bar up a huge hill we all had to tackle in our heels? Who was making these decisions? So yes, we all geared up to climb the hill, heels in situ, despite me piping up with 'whats wrong with this bar down here?'. About a mile behind the others, myself and my friend wobbled our way up the 'mountain', my dress flying furiously about me like something on the moors from a period drama, and my friend freezing death with only a shawl round her shoulders. However we were not going to be beaten in our hard, Northern females stereotype, (manly) 'arrgggh'! Evening dress or no evening dress.

Leaving slightly earlier than the others, the two of us made our way back down the 'mountain' to the car, avoiding the subway not only for our safety but to avoid more steps, however it became too much for my friend who continued with heels removed despite my anxiety with regards to chills and getting a cold. Ridiculously I carried on in mine, getting stuck in pavement cracks and pot-holes the entire way.

So, next Friday we are endeavouring to 'party' the night away in what is reputably known as one of the worst nightclubs around. Another left-field idea which is going to have a huge group of us enduring more embarrassment to be sure. I dare say however, that I may be too bladdered to notice. The sudden improvement in my social life has me very enthusiastic. I feel it may be time for me to let go and enjoy some life again for a while, before I become completely penniless with a bigger house and enormous mortgage. In with shots and cocktails, and out with the old boring, tired me. Well, for one night anyway. I dare say I will be back to my hot-chocolate and early nights when I make acquaintance with my hangover the next day. Ironically I am going to turn up for an appointment with my nutritionist the morning after, feeling, well, terribly unwell. How humorous.

2008???

Dearest readers, who continue to read my rantings no matter how droll.

Well it is now 2008. What the hell happened there then? Where did 2007 go? I would love to write about how I partied so hard into the new year that I cant remember it happening, however that would be a bare faced lie! For the 3rd time towards the end of 2007 I was pretty sick - therefore was very much in my bed trying to sleep, well breath, through a completely snot clogged nose and throat which felt like it had been slit. All well now, and with no intention of moaning about that for any longer, I am eagerly awaiting my birthday on Tuesday. Not that I have anything particularly special planned but I do have a gorgeous dress! Yes I have splashed out on a stupendous evening dress - beautifully bought in the sale saving me £130 - yes I will repeat that - £130!! So I have already been on at D to make sure he is taking me somewhere really posh, like with a pianist in the corner or something, how exciting would that be!

Other reportings to include: The Fabulous, Unbelievably Brilliant, So Sexy Bruce Springsteen in Concert! My god, how good he was cannot even be described. It was genius rip-roaring through a microphone and being blasted into the heavens of the acoustically perfect O2 arena. No fancy lighting, special effects, costumes or stage show - just 'The Boss', commanding his stage very manfully with the ever great E-Street Band totally on form around him! Worth every penny spent. Even thinking of trying to go again!

New Years Resolutions!

1) Obviously will lose 4-5stone! (Of course I would settle for 3)

2) To get back to health/fitness so as not to get fired before even a year into my job

3) To do some charity work and give something back as clearly I'm very lucky

4) To plough on with my book/screenplay - whichever develops first

5) Do not crash car this year!

6) Remember everyone's birthdays and send cards (failed already, sorry Belle it will be late!)

7) Stay in contact with distant friends

8) Plan and save for wedding

9) Stick to resolutions