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.