A Bit Stuck

Every time I sit down to write I get a bit stuck. A bit like I’ve forgotten how to write. Misery seemed to have fed my creativity quite well, and now I’m enjoying every little minute of life (fancy that!) the words have dried up. This is writers block, I suppose?

My mum, aka the childminder, is still laid up with her broken ribs after the accident so I’ve been on mummy duty 24/7, focussing on getting out each and every day with the babies. We’ve been discovering mum groups, parks, shops, kitchen dance parties, nursery rhymes. I haven’t done much work but the satisfaction I’ve felt seeing the children bloom and grow has been amazing. They are happy, very happy. They see their dad a couple of times a week and love the time they spend with him (also: I love my time off!). Being the only parent to deal with 5.30am wakeups, not so much, but it’s JUST A PHASE, JUST A PHASE.

Though I haven’t been writing as much I have been squirrelling away experiences and factoids to be brought out soon, when the dust has settled a bit. Like experiences from dates (dating is definitely the best thing about being single), the judgement I’ve felt from other women as a single mother (what about the sisterhood?!), the bad bits and the good bits of solo parenting. Spoiler: it is not as awful as you might think though I am not enjoying the feeling of being so skint.

So that’s me. Standby for some salacious tales coming your way in the next few weeks, and in the meantime go and have a read of my good friend Ruth’s new blog. It’s epic, you won’t regret it.

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One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila…

When I went to New York recently I gingerly tried a Margarita for the second time.

The first time I tried a Margarita I was sixteen and in the bar of a lovely hotel in Chipping Campden with my parents; it was the only thing I recognised on a menu of cocktails that may have well been written in a foreign language. I got a mouthful of salt, drank it so I wouldn’t lose face and never ordered one again.

But in New York City, the day before Cinco De Mayo, Margaritas are a must. And I bloody loved it. I can’t believe I have spent twelve years missing out on this limey, tequila-y goodness. I have a lot to catch up on.

There is a point to this story, I promise.

When I won a Vitamix in a competition a couple of months ago (I know, right? BEST PRIZE EVER) Margaritas weren’t the first thing on my mind. In fact, a stipulation of the prize was that I was to hold a ‘Margarita Party’ and blog about it, when in actual fact I was far more interested in making morning smoothies and healthy soups for lunch with my new dream machine.

Yet I dutifully planned my Margarita Party, fajitas and karaoke. But then I went to New York, became single and my overnight babysitter fell out of the attic. The Margarita Party couldn’t happen at home (kids can’t sleep through the caterwauling of karaoke, I’ve tried) so I went on the search for an alternative venue.

Luckily my lovely friend Alex had recently moved house and was planning a housewarming party. I asked her, pretty please, can I bring my Vitamix, tequila, limes and SingStar over to your house? She said DOH, this is why I am friends with you, OF COURSE YOU CAN.

And so the crashed Margarita Party was planned!

Firstly, have you ever bought 20 limes and 20 lemons? They cost like £14 and you will be drinking water with added lime and lemon for WEEKS afterwards. And trying to juice 20 limes? Not the easiest job in the world. Better to make your first Margarita as soon as possible so you have some company for your sore squeezing hands. Even better still, get someone else to squeeze them.

Margaritas

Tequila
Lime juice
Cointreau

Add two measures of Tequila, one of Cointreau and one of lime juice into the Vitamix with a handful of ice (or a cocktail shaker)
Blitz (or shake)
ENJOY.

Because the Vitamix is epic (and I piled a bunch of ice in it) our Margaritas turned out to be kind of the consistency of Slush Puppies. Slush Puppies for grown ups, full of fun. They were absolutely bloody delicious and the Vitamix made me the most popular person at the party. So if you buy one, not only is it good for your kitchen but also your social life.

I also made a basil vodka lemonade based on this recipe. I probably won’t bother again; I replaced the sugar syrup for Gomme and not sure if I used enough as it was pretty gross. Still drank it though (obviously).

I think you can see that a good time was had by all. The Margarita drinkin’ was followed by karaoke singing (KELLY CLARKSON EAT YOUR HEART OUT) and a stumble to the local wine bar.

I love a good girl’s night in and this one was most excellent.

Frozen Margaritas are definitely going to be the drink of my summer. Thank-you Vitamix for giving me the gift of Margaritas!

You can see the parties held by the rest of the Margarita party winners: Mummy Barrow, Domestic Goddessesque and Charlotte

Obviously Vitamix sent me this amazing kitchen gadget for free and it has changed my life. You can see pictures of my morning smoothies on my Instagram feed – they’re mostly green cos apparently it’s healthier, innit.

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Who Run The World? Girls! (And Sometimes Their Dads)

One of the scariest things for me when making the decision to go it alone was the fear that I simply would not be able to do it. When you live with the same person for 9 years you fall into your roles, your routines, and I was petrified I wouldn’t be able to pick up the slack of the missing husband when I was living alone.

It was a massive surprise (and confidence boost) to discover that, actually, it’s not all that hard. Yes there are jobs I have very reluctantly taken on but they aren’t as tough as I thought they were. And actually, living alone is sometimes easier as there is one less person to clean up after and cook for.

(Though nothing quite makes up for those evenings when the kids have driven you mad all day and you would give your right arm for some grown-up company to talk grown-up things with. Or when you just want a big manly cuddle)

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Things I Thought I Would Never Be Able To Do On My Own But Actually Can:

1. Mowing the lawn
I think this is our husbands’ best kept secret and I am going to BLOW IT. Listen up: mowing the lawn is just like hoovering but on a slightly bigger scale. You are welcome. (disclaimer: it may take you a while to work out how to switch the bloody thing on but once you’ve done that you’re golden)

2. Taking the bins out
The bins don’t smell as much as you might anticipate. And doing the recycling will make you feel like you’ve done a really really good thing for the world.

3. DIY
So I’m not particularly skilled or precise at hammering nails into the wall at the best of times which is why I am really good at calling my dad and asking him to do it. This weekend he fixed my garage door. Next weekend I will be asking him to hang my bedroom mirror. No shame.

4. BBQs
I had a real hankering for a BBQ yesterday but had never ever lit one or cooked food on one. No problemo, I dusted the gas off the cannister, connected it to the BBQ (this was the hardest part and may or may not have took 10 minutes before I found the instructions) and created the fire! My burgers fell apart and my chicken was burnt (Elfie: “I not like this mummy. Why is it black?”) but I bloody did it. And I will do it again – and probably quite soon because white rolls were 12 for £1 in Tescos so we have 9 left to eat.

5. Washing the car/putting petrol in the car/anything to do with the car
Firstly, car wash. If your kids will stand it, that is. Elfie doesn’t like it and to be honest it must be quite terrifying to an unassuming two and a half year old. So we use the slightly more expensive valet service at the gym and as a bonus they also clean the inside: job done. Secondly, it turns out the thing I hate most about putting petrol in the car is how expensive it is. So you’ve just got to suck that one up. Thirdly, when in doubt ask your dad/uncle/brother/knowledgeable male friend. (Dad, if you’re reading this, one of my wheels is making a funny noise. Help?).

Who run the world…? Girls. And sometimes their Dads.

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Bubby Is ONE!

I’d thought a lot about Hux’s first birthday; the end of the baby years, the beginning of his boyhood. The plan was to hold a small tea party with sandwiches, scones, cake and party rings, sing happy birthday in time for Hux and Elfie to have their tea and go to bed worn out after a happy day of cake and present-opening.

What I didn’t anticipate happening on 16th May was a (swift) drive to Oxford’s John Radcliffe hospital following my mum’s not so graceful descent from the top of a ladder.

It was that awful situation you imagine might happen but hope never does. My phone was on silent and I’d missed calls from my Dad, who’d managed to get hold of Will. Will appeared at the front door: “there’s been an accident”. GULP. He said that my mum was fine but she’d gone off to hospital an hour and a half away in a helicopter. Which really, when you think about it, probably means she isn’t fine. An air ambulance! My mum hates flying.

Mum was very lucky: she had a punctured lung and 4 fractured ribs (ouch). Despite being adamant that she wasn’t going to stay overnight in hospital (love the confidence intravenous morphine gives you…) she was kept in til Saturday and is now taking it easy at home.

I told her – you’ll do anything to get out of babysitting, won’t you mum?! ;)

I got home in time to eat the last of the cocktail sausages and a couple of Blinis that Elfie had picked the smoked salmon off. And so my boy was One!

Ah well, we’ll try again next year. He won’t remember this birthday of course, which is good as practicality won over fun and his main gifts consisted of a bath toy, a book and lots of well-needed clothes. Sorry, Bubby.

At the grand old age of a year Hux is still very awesome. He is the most content little man you will ever meet (strangers: “erm, why is your baby so happy?”) and his most favourite thing to do in the world is to put things, anything, in his mouth. His favourite thing to chomp down on is an iPhone wire or laptop cable. Or soil. Not massively high in the nutritional value stakes. He also loves to wave, point and pretend to feed people food.

He doesn’t crawl properly yet but does this cute wiggly wormy commando crawl thing on his elbows. He can happily sit up and has just started bearing weight on his legs if you support him. He can say some choice words: Mama, Dada, Papa, Row Row, Gaga, No, Yeah. He has the softest, sweetest-smelling head of hair that has the slightest hint of strawberry blonde about it.

Hux had a very rough time in the last three months with three consecutive chest infections and a couple of doses of conjunctivitis. You know what’s not fun? Putting cream in a baby’s eyes. They don’t like it. At all.

A hospital X ray confirmed that he did indeed have infections in both lungs but it didn’t look like there was anything more sinister going on which was a huge relief after there were whispers of Cystic Fibrosis from the doctor. We’re going back in a couple of weeks for a follow up but touch wood he has been happy and well ever since.

Elfie loves her brother A LOT, probably a little bit more than he loves her at the moment though this is totally down to how hard she squeezes him when they cuddle. And how much she likes to ‘share’ his toys, when ‘share’ means ‘take it off him because I want anything he’s playing with’. The relationship these two share is so special… at least until the crying starts, anyway.

It’s crazy to look back on this time last year and think about what a different place we are all in now. So much has happened, most of it unexpected. Some sad, some happy, some exciting, some life-changing. Who knows what the next year of this little boy’s life will bring?

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Separation: The Aftermath

So I have been tapping my fingers on my laptop for three days now, wondering how on earth to follow up the last post I did. This is the fifth time I’ve started writing something, all previous words have been deleted in frustration.

Firstly, a big thank you to everyone who commented, tweeted, emailed, text… I have felt really loved. The stories and kind words I’ve been sent have really helped and left me feel a lot more positive about the future. And positive is one thing I really am feeling at the moment: I’ve gone from being terrified of being on my own 6 months ago to living alone and thriving. I’ve learned so much about myself, what I’m capable of and what I want out of life.

The hardest thing in this whole process is the affect the split is having on the kids. Specifically on Elfie, Hux is too young to understand what’s going on. When Will first went to stay elsewhere I had a couple of heartbreaking weeks of her asking where her Daddy was, and saying that she was so sad that Daddy wasn’t at home. It was awful and I know Will found these early phone calls with her just as hard as I did. Her behaviour declined and she became clingy and anxious. She seems to have emerged out of the other side of this bad patch though and is as confident and happy as ever.

The split has had a positive experience on them in other ways, however. Both Will and I are spending a lot more quality time with them, going to toddler groups, crafting, cooking, visiting playgrounds. They now seem to feel very happy and I hope they continue to.

I’ve been surprised at the affect this has had on our friends. I expect from the outside our relationship has always looked pretty solid: probably because we’ve always been such good friends and have had no big public fallings out. I think a lot of people have been shocked at our news, as not only were we the first in our friendship group to get married but we’re also one of the first to split.

The questions I feel we need to ask each other are endless… do I change my name back? Do we get a quickie divorce or wait until we’ve lived apart for two years? Is Will going to get a permanent base up here or just have a place in London? Should I move back to London? What is a fair custody share if I’m working from home? What do we do at Christmas? How soon can I afford to do this on my own? ARGH! If anyone can enlighten me to the above, please do.

Single motherhood, let’s be having you.

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When Marriage Doesn’t Work Out

Last week I went to New York.

While I was there I planned on drinking as many cocktails and eating as many cheeseburgers as physically possible – which I did – but there was also another reason for my trip. Something I haven’t spoken about here yet, not because I haven’t wanted to, but because it has been a very difficult and turbulent time.

Will and I decided to separated a few weeks ago. For a week or so he split his time between staying with family locally and London. My trip to New York was my time to gain some perspective, headspace and independence before coming home to work out what was going on. I half expected to jet out there a quivering and crying mess, spend my New York time questioning why I wasn’t at home and return back the same emotionally frail weeper.

But what actually happened is that I re-found my spark over there, the essence of who I am. I felt like I was 10 years younger, confident, happy. I gained the perspective I needed to evaluate where I was in my life and where I was going; my relationship, family and work. The distance helped me to see so clearly where we’d been going wrong and what we needed to do to put it right.

Will and I have now split up. Without going into the details, we are both very different people to the ones we were when we embarked on our relationship 10 years ago. We love each other dearly and are going to do our utmost to live separate lives in the best way possible for our two lovely children, but to be truly happy we need to be apart. We’re separating for no other reason than sometimes these things just don’t work out, not for want of trying or lack of hoping.

We are both sad but know this is the right thing to do and in time we’ll be a better family for this decision. As much as I have been grieving for our life that will never be, I can truly say that I have not felt this positive about the future in a long time, like a big weight has been lifted. Although this process will not be easy it is most definitely for the best.

So that’s me, that’s the reason for New York. I had a wonderful holiday and lost 5lbs. Who said splitting up was without advantage?!