Snow day…

We are snowed in!

It’s true.  In these parts, we do not get snow often. The last snow that I can remember that fell as heavy as this, was in 2010.  That is how often we get snow.

Of course, we get occasional flurries of snow and sometimes the odd day of very, very light snow but we don’t get, heavy, full on snow, like we have at the moment, very often at all.

We are not a country that copes particularly well in snow.  I always imagine that other countries laugh loudly at us when they see our horrified faces and our cars in ditches.

They must marvel at how flummoxed we are by it every time?

Our public transport comes to a standstill, our schools are closed and our workplaces have no staff  in them because people can’t use the roads and we can’t possibly walk in it, what if we fall over?  We don’t have the stamina or the footwear!

Having said that, I am one of those who could not get to work today.  I feel actually quite guilty about this, as some people come further than I do and they managed to make it in. However, I do not own a 4×4 and I live in a very silly little lane, in a small village on the top of a very large hill.

I did not feel guilty about if for long though, as now, they are all stuck trying to get bloody home again!

If I could walk it, I would, for sure but I can’t, so I have to admit defeat.  It is not ideal and I will have to take it as holiday, which is even more infuriating to be honest, as I hate using my annual leave willy nilly.


Our lane.

I don’t normally use real pictures for my blogs but when they are as pretty as these ones today, why not?

The header photo, was taken this morning when Tom and Elsie tried to go sledging but the snow was too deep even for that.  You could barely trudge up the hill, never mind sledge it.  They are not small now and I didn’t have the muscle required to haul their arses up the lane, not like I used to.  Well, it was 8 years ago, since the last lot, Elsie was only 6 but at 14 she is a lump too far now, I’m afraid.

So, we gave up with that idea quite quickly and just went for a wintry walk instead.

A snowball fight and a blizzard half way round and we were soon ready for some warmth.

By the end of it there was more snow in the house than outside.

Tom has been in and out like a proverbial yo-yo all bloody day, he has gone through his entire wardrobe of clothes and is now sitting like a little pink prawn in his dressing gown by the fire trying to defrost.

He went out to build a snowman, came in, got changed.  Went out again to have a snowball fight with his mate, came in, got changed.  Then went out to try sledging, again, came in, got changed.  Then him and Elsie went out to build a snowman, came in, got changed.  Each time waiting just long enough for his gloves to dry and then he was off again.

I have a pile of wet clothes the size of Kilimanjaro sitting in the bath.

The thing with snow is, it is pretty.  It looks lovely, especially where we live.  We are off the beaten track and so it stays white and thick and beautiful.  It is still a massive pain in the arse though, truth be told.

Typically, I had booked the rest of the week off.  I had booked the rest of the week off as I have plans.  Plans to do things, to go places and to see people.

Tomorrow I am supposed to be going to a gig in London.  There is a small glimmer of hope that I may still be able to go and I am clinging on to that, for now.

However, it looks like we are in for more ‘snow days‘.  The likelihood is, that the kids will be off school, as more snow is forecast for tonight. *sad face

I also had plans to see Flash Thursday for ‘coffee’ and to meet some friends on Friday.   I never have time off on my own, it is unheard off.  I always use my annual leave for the school holidays because, I am a mum but I just thought this once I would have few days to myself.  Yeah right!

In other news.  Erm, actually I’m not sure there is any other news?

After Saturdays coffee date with Xavier the deal with Flash seems more and more appealing.

I like him.  He makes me laugh and he is very easily pleased.  It is not an arrangement that would suit everyone but it suits me.

I am still in peace talks with Mack, we have taken several leaps backwards over the last couple of days and I am becoming irritated by him, again.  It has been a month now since we started messaging, for the second time and we are no further forward.  I am bored and I have told him I am bored, he really doesn’t seem to mind me saying I am bored, he still just keeps trying… but trying to do what… I don’t know.

I am still chatting to Woodsman, who it has to be said is a bit grumpy.  His name seems to fit well, as he is small (yes small), dark and handsome, bearded and quite hairy, just how you would imagine a Woodsman to be.  He comes across grumpy in some of his messages and this makes me chuckle, as it just makes me happy to wind him up and watch him go.  He never fails to take the bait.  He does always give as good as he gets though.

He wants a no strings attached relationship, no shocks there.  However, he is single and has no responsibilities other than a job, which could mean that he will have far too much free time, compared to my very limited ad hoc time.  I am unsure if I will fancy him as I don’t usually do too hairy?  Jesus, I am fussy, I know.  I can’t help it.  I am really trying not to be, honestly.

My trouble is, I fancied Mack, I still fancy Mack.  Right from the off, he was, is, my cup of coffee.  He kisses like a dream and he is fit and although he is not what I would call handsome in a text-book way, there is something about him that I can not bloody shake off.

I am not so foolish as to think that this is any basis for anything,  or whether anything may, or not, come out of mine and Mack’s complex foreplay, we are too similar in some respects and that is why we don’t get anywhere.  We will neither one of us be the first to admit that we want the other.  We are both guarded and cautious and reluctant to say that actually, I quite like you.

For me, at least, it is endless and going nowhere but I have said all that before.

The sun is out and the snow is melting away a little bit, so there may be hope for tomorrow after all, not sure it will melt the ice inside me though.  😉







A mother’s love…

My children irritate the shit out of me.

That, is me being totally honest.  They make me swear a lot but they also make me laugh, a lot.  They irritate and infuriate but at the same time they amaze and surprise, all the time, every day.

Our children are our legacies aren’t they?  They are what we will one day leave behind. Similar but not exact versions of ourselves.  We try to encourage them to always be true to themselves and to be honest and good.  We all want out children to turn out well.  To become, generally good, well-rounded individuals.

Being a parent is not easy.  I certainly haven’t found it particularly easy.  There are days when I have completely lost my shit and have felt like I am losing my grip on all things Elsie and Tom related, however, these moments pass, quickly.  This is just as well, as no one would ever have children otherwise.

It’s a bit like childbirth isn’t it.  When you are doing it and you feel like your vagina is the size of a football pitch and the pain is akin to… actually thinking about it, what is it akin to?  I don’t think there is a pain that comes anywhere close to it, well none that I have experienced, yet.  Thank God!  The point is though, that you forget.

When you are back in the maternity unit though, however many years later, you realise you forgot about the time before.  You forgot all too quickly about your first child-bearing experience, the time that you were screaming and threatening to harm anyone that came within a mile of you.  Your vagina being the size of a football pitch with half a dozen unfamiliar faces all having a look up it.  The pain and the exhaustion and the bloody time it all took and you repeatedly saying ‘I am NEVER doing this again.’  You forgot all that, didn’t you?

You forgot because you have a beautiful baby.

These moments that seem gargantuan at the time, soon pass because if they didn’t, there would be no children in the world.  It is a bittersweet mix of incredible highs and desperate lows but that is parenting.  It’s a learning curve, the like of which you’ve never experienced before and nothing or no one can prepare you for it.

I do think that some, find it easier than others.  Some of the mum’s I know seem to find it much easier than me and most have more children than I do but they still seem to sail along, on a heavenly parental breeze.  I on the other hand lurch from one day to another hoping only to avoid being reported to Social Services.

As you know,  I am a single parent.  The does not mean that I am a rubbish parent.  I struggle, yes I do, it is hard sometimes and tiring and thankless but my friends, even the ones with husbands, complain about all the same things I do.

They struggle to maintain, job and family and life, we all have the same ups and downs.  The homework arguments. The tidy your room arguments. The, who ate all the bloody snacks arguments?

I feel a deeper connection with Elsie, I think because she is a girl, than I do with Tom but I love Tom like I never thought it was possible to love another human.  Does that make sense?

Tom is my baby, he will always be my baby but Elsie is my sidekick.  She is my girl.  My reliable, lovely, funny sweet girl.

The things I teach my children, I learnt from my own mother.  I have a great relationship with my mum and I am very lucky and very thankful for that.

We are very similar apart from, she has no filter.  She can be a little rash with her comments and doesn’t always engage her brain before she remarks on something.   She is a bit old school, it is a generational thing no doubt and as such she is, or can be, blunt and to the point.  She doesn’t always bring diplomacy to the conversation.

What she does bring though, is love and compassion and strength, all the things a good mother should have.

We still, to this day argue, we are both quite opinionated, strong-willed women but she and I both know that there is no stronger bond than that of a mother and her child.

Women are strong they are the backbone of a family, they are what stops the string from unravelling.

For me, there is something quite powerful about raising children on your own.  I won’t say it was something I entered in to by choice because it wasn’t.  However, there was a small part of me that always felt like this is how it would be for me.

When I was younger I can remember thinking that one day I would have a daughter, my daughter and I would be inseparable and have adventures together but it was always, just me and her.

My relationship with my children’s father was pretty toxic to be fair.  It was a volatile and very unpredictable relationship, not help along by his reluctance to give up his ‘lifestyle‘, he was a drinker and as far as I am aware he still is, he wanted to be Peter Pan and be young and live forever, with no responsibilities.  Now, he is married to someone else and looks after her three children instead of his own and still drinks far too much far too often, it just hasn’t killed him yet, unfortunately!

The day I realised that I had to get out of there, was the day I decided to have Tom.  I knew that in the future it was just going to be us, which so far was me and Elsie.

I think I knew then that I would struggle in a ‘conventional’ relationship and so the thought of her never having a brother or sister, or that if she did they would not share the same parents, troubled me.

I often have a tendency to over analyse a situation and I am terrible at making decisions, I deliberate and procrastinate, I think, in the hope that someone will say;  ‘Right, this is what’s happening..’  but I knew then that I wanted another child and I wanted them both to have the same parents.

Elsie was not a planned pregnancy and no one was more shocked than me, I was living and working abroad and at 30, had kind of thought it wasn’t going to happen.  Tom was my planned pregnancy but planned in a weirdly meticulous way, right down to the actual day most likely to conceive, just so I wouldn’t have to put myself through the ordeal of sex too often (bet you never thought I would say that), it worked first time, no mean feat for a man who could drink his own body weight in lager.

Not long after Tom was born we separated.  I left after another fight with one of neighbours saw him getting arrested again!  It was in a way how I planned in my head or do I just tell myself that?

I am not over protective of my children and some would go so far as to say that I let them have too much freedom, particularly Tom but I make no secret of the fact that I am in charge.  I am Father and Mother and I am tough as old boots when I need to be and as soft as sugar the next.   It is my house, my rules.  I have to be strong, firm, dependable, reliable, nurturing, caring, loving and steady, it is my job.

A job I have been doing for quite some time now.  I will never get it 100% right and I will never not have ‘oh shit’ moments but come between me and my children at your own peril.

That protective, animalistic streak that I never thought I had, will rear its ugly head in a heartbeat.

The chocolate cake…

Today I have been on a coffee date with Xavier.

Yes.  I do mean coffee.  I always get a bit nervous before actual dates.  Probably because they don’t happen that often.

People talk a lot about meeting up and having coffee but it rarely actually happens.  Most, don’t want to meet up, they want to exchange pictures and saucy messages from the comfort of their armchair, not physically go on a date.

It is rare for someone to go straight in for coffee.  However, coffee doesn’t always mean coffeeFlash and I meet for coffee, there is absolutely no coffee involved!

So when Xavier messaged and suggested coffee today I said yes.  Coffee, coffee?  Okay, why not?

We were meeting at a well-known coffee-house in the middle of town.  It was busy.  The weather has turned really cold of late but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day for being out and about, it seems everyone had the same idea.

As I walked through the town to the coffee shop I was becoming more anxious.  I was unsure about what Xavier looked like, his profile pictures were a little on the vague side.  His main profile picture was of him skiing, now when you ski you are generally very well wrapped up, so all you can see in that photo is his smile.

He has two others, one is him outside a pub but again it is from a fair distance, so apart from what looks like a full head of grey hair and being fairly tall you can’t see much more.  The other one, well, I’m not sure it is the same person?  The difficulty with this, is that you wonder if you will recognise them at all?

Just then, he messages me:

Xavier:  Which coffee-house?  Grosvenor Road?

Me:   Yes.  That will be fine.

Xavier:  See you there.

Me:   I’m on my way.

Xavier:  You don’t have to be there till 3 pm precisely, there is no rush.

Me:  OK, I will walk a bit slower then!

Xavier:  You are funny.

Me:  Stop texting me, I can’t walk and text.

Xavier:  So stop walking and just text!

Me:  No. I will be late. Inside or outside?

No reply!

Perfect.  I ask a question and it’s then he decides he wont text anymore.  Great.  So, am I going inside or am I waiting outside.  Ohhhh.  I hate all this.

I arrive outside the coffee shop, no idea if he is here or not and wait, loitering nervously, outside in the freezing cold, watching the world and his wife going about their business and wondering if he is here.  I really don’t think I would be able to pick him out?

I message him;

Me:  I’m early!!

Xavier:  I’m impressed.  You said you would be late.

Me:   Well, I made an extra ordinary effort to be on time!

Xavier:  I will be five minutes.

Me:  Well could you hurry it along a bit.  It is freezing!!

After a few minutes..

Xavier:  I’m inside, Table by the window.  I have ordered for you.

Really?  You have got to be joking me. 

I look up and there he is, waving at me from the warm comfort of an armchair, a smug grin on his face!!  I’m not sure why that makes me laugh but it does.  Bloody cheek.

Was he really checking me out while he was texting me to see if I was, what.. like my profile picture, pretty, fat, any of the above?

I walked in, and he met me at the door.  I was not immediately bowled over.  He was very average looking and as his profile picture hadn’t given me much to go on, I couldn’t decide if he was like it, or not.   He manoeuvred me to the table and took my coat.  I can’t remember the last time someone did that?

On the table were two tall frothy coffee thingy’s and a huge slice of chocolate cake that looked like it should be smeared not eaten!

Do I have a one track mind?  I think I probably do!!

Now, at this point I would have been getting a little excited about this date by now.  I liked the texting, the formal feel it had with the underlying thing going on.  I liked the fact that he was waiting inside, all the while pretending he had not yet arrived and I loved the fact that he had ordered and it was a GOOD order.

I liked Xavier.  I didn’t fancy him!

Why is this so hard!!

In an ideal world it seems he wanted the same as me, a casual but fun relationship, with none of the stresses of living together and trying to juggle our mutual children.  On an intellectual level, he was maybe a bit above me but I don’t mind that at all.  Our conversation was good, varied and funny.  He was quite clearly into sex and games and more?? I think.  Which would have been almost too perfect, had I fancied him.

I still enjoyed the date.  I can talk to anyone, I genuinely like people.  I like to find out about people and I’m interested in just having conversations.  I try not to flirt but I am one.  I try not to be when I don’t fancy someone, however, I’m not sure I pull it off very well.

I laugh and I smile a lot but it’s because I am just enjoying the company.  I can enjoy the conversation of someone with out wanting to go to bed with them.  Although I don’t always make that clear-cut.

This becomes even harder when the person you are ‘on a date’ with is, normal, for want of a better word.  It is harder because you don’t dislike them and they seem very nice and the conversation is great and you seem to get along but you know there is no chemistry.  That is the hardest date of all.  You never both feel the same.  Why is that?

You never both say;  Sorry, you are not for me or both say that you are, it is always that one wants to and one doesn’t!

Why didn’t I fancy him?

If I am going to be perfectly honest and probably a little bit shallow it was lots of little things.  His teeth weren’t brilliant (I confess, that is my deal breaker),  He had very small feet and hands, something I didn’t notice straight away but not only did he have small feet he had very odd furry boots on which made his feet look animal like.

His shirt didn’t quite meet in the middle and his coat was far too big and covered in cat hair (this I noticed as we went to leave).   He was also sweating quite a lot and maybe that was nerves but it was not pleasant.

He was obviously not a man who cared much for style and that is fine but I am a someone who cares about style, to a certain extent.  I am not a dedicated follower of fashion but I like to look nice.  I know what I like and I like to look good.  Everyone has their own style I know that, some are snappy some are casual and some can adapt to anything but you must have a certain kind of style, a look that is you.

I suppose overall, he just wasn’t my cup of coffee.

I like my coffee, dark, strong and well dressed, even if it does come with a side order of smooth, rich chocolate cake.


New blood…

I feel like this is my second home all of a sudden.

I am sitting in the clubhouse at Tom’s new training ground.  I like it here.  I have certainly been in worse places, where sport is concerned.

The downside is that it’s noisy.  I like to write in peace, much to Elsie’s annoyance.  I am not an avid TV watcher and can take it or leave it, so it is easy for me to spend an evening in silence (well not counting the constant interruptions) and write.  I don’t ever feel like I am missing out on a particular TV drama or news story.  If I feel the need, I am happy to catch up as and when.

Elsie can not comprehend why I want to sit in silence.  However, she does not have children and does not yet appreciate how nice a bit of peace and quiet can be.  Elsie is uncomfortable in silence, in her room alone she will usually have the TV on, while listening to music and not really be paying attention to either, as she is on her phone chatting to her friends.

I don’t understand that.  How you would possibly be taking anything in with all that going on?

It can be hard to write in the sports bar though, as the TV’s are on, usually playing football or a sport of some variety.   This evening there seems to be a lot of children in here too.  It is not a particularly interesting place and people don’t really chat, which is fine as I am more than happy to blend in to the background.  Well, unless a particularly handsome guy walks in and grabs my attention.

This is my life now, at least during the football season and I’m not sure how long that actually is, so I may as well make the most of my time here.

Tom is enjoying his time at the club and seems to get on well with everyone.  It is a rush to get him here on a Wednesday as I have to work till 5pm and we need to leave home at 5.30 pm, training starts at 6 pm.

Tom, who has been home since 3.20 pm, is never bloody ready because he has been waylaid by his  Xbox.  So when I walk in at 5.10 pm and start shouting at him until 5.15 pm, then get changed myself  in an effort to try to leave at 5.25 pm. I end up driving like a racing driver to get there on time, while swearing like an old navvy.

So you can see why I am so grateful for the sports bar.

It’s been a funny old week so far.  Monday saw someone get locked in the bloody toilet at work.

Well, he didn’t so much as get locked in, he just broke the bloody handle off the door from the inside, trying to get out.  So despite the fact that we could unlock the door from the outside, we couldn’t turn the handle to get him out again.

It is sometimes a bit like a sitcom in our place.

Question:  How many people does it take to get a patient out of the toilet?  Answer:  Too bloody many.

There was about six of us all trying different door opening tactics, like we were once assigned to the SAS but all to no avail.  It was not budging.

Charlie, the chap stuck in the toilet had pulled the emergency cord to notify us that he was indeed stuck in the toilet and the alarm was still ringing in our ears.  The first few minutes were spent trying to make sure Charlie had his trousers on before we burst in on him and the next few, trying to get him to hit the emergency button again to turn the bloody alarm off.

Now, in a situation like this, I would imagine it is easy to give  an instruction for one person to follow.  If.. A:  You haven’t got an alarm ringing in your ears.   B:  You haven’t got six people all trying to give you the same instructions and C:  The patient stuck in the toilet, isn’t a bit bloody deaf.  However, when it is all of the above, it just becomes a chaotic mess.

In the end it was clear the door was not going to open and so the suggestion was that we kick it in.

This made me LOL a lot.  We are women of a certain age.  I don’t think any of us have the brute strength to kick a door in, it is the most I can do to get the lid off a jar sometimes.

We decided we needed a man.  I knew I already needed a man but for very different reasons. However, back to the issue in hand.  We could not use a patient, for obvious reasons, most of the ones that are here are unwell and if they so much as broke a nail, they could probably sue us.  We couldn’t use one of the Doctors, not for anything manual.  So we decided it would have to be someone from the garage along the road.

We borrowed a lovely, big, strong one..  He came, he saw, he kicked the door in, he went.

Charlie was free!  There was a loud cheer in the building and after taking a bow, Charlie went off to the pub to get a whiskey for his nerves.

We, still have a broken door.

I was excited on Monday too, as it was kind of pencilled in that Mack and I would be going on a date.  I use the word date loosely as I’m not entirely sure it could really be classified as a date.

The plan was for him to try to come after work (he finishes at 8 pm) we would go for a quick drink at the same pub we went to last time and see whether or not we still liked each other.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure I could remember what he looked liked never mind if I liked him or not?

Anyway, I was very 50/50 about the whole thing.  I wasn’t sure he would make it or if he would even try but I have to admit to not being too bothered either way.   I mean I would have liked it to happen, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to it but I wasn’t going to have a breakdown if he didn’t make it.

He didn’t make it!

I got home from work, had a shower, as instructed by the buddies, just in case.  It’s not that I don’t usually wash but I was kind of going down the, what is the point route.  There was no way though I was going to get fully ready, like make-up ready,  until I knew whether or not he was coming.

He was messaging me during the evening to keep me updated on his ETA but it was starting to shift, first to 8.15 then possibly to 8.30, in the end I just had to say, NO!

If you make a date, however casual that date may be, you should try to make it on time, if you can not then you will just have to re-schedule, if you get the opportunity and your date isn’t just a little bit pissed off with all your bloody messing about by then.

He did, later that evening message and say how sorry he was that he didn’t make it and that he was looking forward to it but he hasn’t tried to re-schedule and so I can only assume that he is still just playing games.

I am now becoming a little bit bored with Mack again, I didn’t think it would take long.

So I decided to engage in a couple of conversations with some new blood.  Well Mack was never going to hold my attention for long, let’s be honest.

The first is Woodsman, he is quite local and 40.  Woodsman is a reference to Red Riding Hood, which somehow is what our first few message were about!

We are fairly new in to our chit-chat, which so far is fairly pleasant, with mild flirting,  that is quite funny in places.  He is a typical horny male though and so we shall see where we end up by the end of the week, if anywhere?  

The second is Xavier,  he is 48 ( I am saying nothing).  Xavier because it just fits.  His messages are so far quite serious but they have an underlying current that runs right through them.  He seems stern but playful.  We are only just acquainted and he wants to meet for coffee, as he doesn’t want a pen pal… unlike someone else I know.


Lazy Sunday…

I feel like a lot has happened since I last blogged but I am not entirely sure if it is all in my head. Some of it I am keeping there, just for now!

It seems to have been a really busy few days and now we are at the end of half term, we have that gloomy Monday morning feeling looming over us.

Tom and Elsie are not looking forward to going back to school. After a week of gadding about and meeting up with their friends, as and when, even the social side of it has lost its appeal.

It’s hard to decide whether being back in the routine or actually having no routine at all is better? I love a week or two of having no set things in place, no alarm clocks and no rushing about but in the end you do need some order in your life, much as we would like to think otherwise.

So… let’s have a catch up:

Wednesday: It was Valentines day. I worked all day. It was I think, as far as I can remember, pretty uneventful. The weather was bloody awful. Tom had football training in the evening, which is always a bit of a rush. The training ground is on a fairly new development of houses, offices and the like, it is massive and the sports ground is right at the back. So far, every week, despite using the sat nav, we have got lost coming out!

This week was no different. Cold, tired, very wet and hungry does not make for a very patient Mum, whose sat nav keeps sending her the wrong bloody way home. Tom though has a marvellous sense of direction I have discovered. I find this quite amazing for a boy who can’t remember how to get dressed every morning. While I was busy swearing at the stupid sat nav, for taking us round in yet another not very scenic circle, he said, ‘Mother, just go straight ahead and then turn left at the roundabout’. He was right. Jesus. Don’t you just hate that.

Elsie had been to the cinema with her friends. They caught the train, she was a little nervous about this as she had never been on the train before, not without me anyway. She is not like Tom and lacks confidence in travelling, especially alone. She is a little anxious by nature and worries that all manner of things MIGHT happen. Like when the train is approaching a station, the station is not announced and all the platform signs have been stolen and no one knows where they are, that kind of thing. Bless her.

I try to play down her anxiety a little bit as I do not want it to get out of hand. I am not sure if this is the right thing to do or not? However, she does talk to me when she is anxious and I can usually reason with her quite quickly, so fingers crossed, once she becomes more confident these fears will subside. She is I think just a late bloomer in some ways and despite being 15 this year, she is still a little bit reluctant to let go of the apron strings, yet.

Thursday: Worked all day, Tom and Elsie were at home. The Buddies and I had a bit of a catch up at lunch. There are a few changes going on at work staff wise, some leaving, some having babies and our small little branch surgery is closing. Much to the annoyance of the villagers it looks after. I will probably have to come back to all that at a later date.

Mack and I were at it again. Well when I say at it, I don’t mean sex, obviously, just talking, or trying. I am not great at communicating and am very guarded and it seems Mack is the same so as you can imagine things are moving, well, they are not moving! Enough said.

Friday: Day off. Lovely. An afternoon with my sister, out for lunch and a bit of shopping, just a general mooch about really. This is joy for Elsie, who loves going anywhere she might be able to buy something but not so much fun for Tom, who hates shopping more than I do, although with the promise of some food and a new pair of Goalie gloves, for his first game on Sunday, he was persuaded to join in.

Mack is being very nice to me! I am suspicious. This morning I woke up to a very nice, very long message from him. He has been messaging me on and off all day, which is unusual… watch this space!

Saturday: I felt like a teenager, not because I am in lurve or because I am feeling footloose and fancy free, just because I woke up with a face full of bloody spots!

I never suffered with this issue as a teenager, luckily for me, as life is difficult enough when you are a teen but lately I seem to be more than making up for it.

I’ve got to say, I don’t much like it.

I had a party to go to. A posh party, in a Manor House, no less, and a face full of spots was not going to match my outfit! Not that I had decided what I was going to wear to said party.

I do not wear dresses. I don’t really do posh, well not very well anyway. I struggle to look elegant, maybe? I can look, chic, trendy, cool but elegant, no. I do not carry dresses well. I am short (I know, I may stop mentioning this soon, you never know) and do not have much shape. I am fashioned a bit like a piece of cardboard, flat but wide. Oh, what a pretty picture I have painted there!

Luckily, I do not have the personality of a piece of cardboard, otherwise I really would be in trouble.

I was very much looking forward to a night in a hotel, something I have not done, on my own, for a while. I planned to take full advantage of the time I had by checking in as soon as I was allowed. I also intended to have a very relaxed, glass of wine or three with my friend, while we got gorgeous! Well, it may take a while.

Tom stayed at his new football mate’s house as it was his birthday and Elsie went on yet another shopping spree with her BFF. Well, I say shopping spree she was on a budget as it has been a fairly expensive week.

Sunday: No hangover! Can you believe it? I can’t. I drank a lot and danced all bloody night long, in my ridiculously high heels (granted, my feet do bloody ache) but I feel absolutely fine, well so far, at least. It was a free bar. Always dangerous. The food was amazing and the place was beautiful, if a little antiquated in places.

We ended up in a double room as our original twin room was having a problem with the shower, apparently. However, I don’t think they realised that it seemed to be the showers in general, not just that particular room, as our shower was hopeless as well.

We also realised that neither one of us had packed anything to sleep in, so used are we to sleeping on our own, the thought never crossed my mind that’s for sure. Well, not until we saw the double bed, a very small double bed at that. It’s a good job we are very good friends as we were likely to be rubbing bottom at some point during the night!

We did have fun though, and it was just what I needed. This morning we had a gorgeous breakfast in the ‘garden room‘, smashed avocado and poached eggs, all washed down with four litres of very strong coffee. Delicious.

I made it back in time to watch Tom’s first football match with his new team, go Mum. He plays in-goal and although he was unsure about being a goalie to start with he is getting really rather good at it. It is a lot of pressure and he couldn’t handle it at first which is why he stopped playing for a while. He just couldn’t take it when he let the ball in and was always beating himself up about it but now he is a bit stronger. The other boys on the team are great and have really accepted him, the coaches are very encouraging and he seems to have fitted in perfectly. I am chuffed to bits.

After the match we headed off to collect Elsie from her friends and now we are home, lounging about, doing absolutely bugger all. Heaven.

A lazy Sunday afternoon before the mayhem starts.

My bloody valentine…

This is a blog entirely about Mack.  It may or may not explain my obsession with him.  I think it is a bit of an obsession?

It may be interesting to some of you and very dull to others, so I apologise if you fall in to the latter category.

Mack and I have something very odd going on.  For those of you who don’t already know, Mack and I have met, we very nearly had sex and then after, we had a bit of a communication issue, to say the least.

Much to my amazement, we are still talking.  I’m not even going to try to figure out why because to be honest, I don’t bloody know the answer.

Sunday, if you remember we had a brief exchange but I was in a really funny place Sunday and I just could not continue talking to him.  I exited the conversation after only a few messages and gave no excuses.

However, he lures me in, like a moth to a flame and last night we were talking again, this is how it went:

Mack: Hey Sexy, How’s you? Hope your week is going better than mine!! xx

Me: I’m good thanks. It is only Tuesday Mack, it can’t be that bad surely? Does it look like it will improve? x

He knows I call him Mack and he knows why, his name is not Mack.

Mack: Nope! Lol  It’s been mental since Sunday night!! Lol x

Oh, here come the bloody LOL’s again!

Me: Mental?  More definition required there!  Maybe you need to relax more. x

Mack: Just manic, job after job!! Lol   Yes I do, any recommendations for a nice way to relax? xx

Me: That’s good isn’t it?  You know what they say about idle hands.  They do say sex is good for relaxing, apparently it relieves all your tension once the endorphins are released in to your body.  Who’d have thought it? x

Ok, I know. Guilty, as charged!!

Mack: Oh really?  So you are recommending lots of sex? xx

Me: Well you asked for recommendations, that is one.  It is up to you how much, if any, you have.  Or if you choose an alternative relaxation technique.

Mack: Would you like to help me relax? xx

Me: Now?  Or in the dim and distant future? x

Mack: Well if you were here now I would happily bend you over my desk!! xx

Me: …… and I would happily let you! x

Mack: I am looking at my desk now and thinking how much nicer it would look with you on it!! xxx

Me: I don’t mind taking some notes for you or doing some filing.  Do you have a sexy secretary?  I have the wardrobe for it! x

Mack: I don’t, no!!  I need one!   A sexy wardrobe?? xx

Me: Maybe I should apply!  Well, let’s see.   I have pencil skirts, low-cut blouses, stockings, heels, so yes, I think I have everything I need. x

Mack: Oh really??  Maybe you should send me a pic of your sexiest secretary outfit so I can attach it to your application!! xx

Me: I haven’t applied yet!  I don’t know what the job entails?   Or if I like the boss? x


  • Looking sexy as fuck everyday!
  • Stop me from getting stressed.
  • Deflecting unnecessary calls.
  • Making good coffee.
  • When I need distracting, sitting opposite me with your legs parted and your fingers making you orgasm.
  • Filing
  • Tasting me on a regular basis
  • Taking messages (too rude…..!)
  • And when you think I need to relax, fucking me senseless!! XX

Almost jumping up and down for joy… Oh, don’t try to tell me that doesn’t turn you on!

Me: Oh. Wow!  That is an impressive job description.  I will be sure to consider it very carefully and make sure I can give it 100% before I apply (inside I am screaming I want it, I want it).   I do think it sounds like a very interesting position.

Then in a massive turn around I say..

I may have a friend who might be up for the job, she is not cheap but I can give you her number. It is 0898 .. .. .. I’m sure a man of your position wouldn’t mind paying for the best!! x

What the hell kind of game are we playing, is it me, is it him, is it both of us?

Mack: Not up to it then? xx

Me: With my eyes closed!! x

Mack: Oh!  So you just don’t want it? xx

Me: What would you do if I said yes?  Anything? x

Mack: Yes. I would re-request a picture of you in your sexiest secretary outfit to go with the application!! Lol xx

Me: Haha. Oh, fuck off Mack, you drive me nuts! x

Push me, pull me, want me, take me, leave me. The longest foreplay session in the history of the world!

Mack: Such bad language!! x

Me: Stop infuriating me then!! x

Mack: What now?? xx

Oh God here we go… another row!

Me: NO!  Not now, well yes now, but not just now, every bloody day you do it!! x

Mack: I can’t please you!! xx

Me: I’m not sure you are trying to!

Mack: Why not?? xx

Jesus, is it possible that we could make this any more difficult?

Me: You are vague at best. x

Mack: My thoughts earlier, to relax, were quite clear, I thought? xx

Me: Yes, I know you want sex!  Or stimulation, or both probably.   Or a bloody pen pal??

Mack: Both probably??  Well, No.  A pen pal is not ideal is it!  So I don’t want one of those!! x

Me: Do you want sex or do you want to be stimulated talking about sex?  Or both?  Do you only want sex?  You need to be clearer.  You avoid direct questions.  You asked me what I wanted, so I told you but you avoided anything in response and I do not wish to be your pen pal either!! x

Mack: I want both!!  Definitely both!! X

Oh, marvellous. Well, I’m so glad we cleared that little misunderstanding up! You think I didn’t know that already.

Me: Oh. I’m done with this conversation, or lack thereof!!  Night Mack. xx

Mack: Oh, right….. Night then!! xx

Me: (after a vodka) Oh my God, I so want to kiss you right now!!

Mack: Now THAT sounds good!! xx

Conversation terminated, by me, again!

When I started writing this post I didn’t realise that it would be published on Valentines day!  I mean let’s face it when you’re single you try not to think too much about the whole hearts and flowers thing.

It is only now as I sit here at about an hour before midnight on Valentines eve, typing all this up, that it suddenly dawned on me.

I am considering posting a blog on, Valentines day.  The day of love and romance, this blog is about a man who drives me completely insane.

Many times I have thought about blocking Mack.  I haven’t and I know I wont, well, at least I am in no way serious about doing it yet.  I get excited when he messages me. Foolish? Yep.  Naive? Absolutely.

I can’t stop that feeling though, it is just in me.  He is well and truly under my skin.  In my head.  I think about him a lot.

I find this in itself quite weird as after our initial meeting and my decision not to respond to his trivial messages, I actually didn’t think about him at all. Not once.

So, why now is it different?  Why can’t I get him out of my mind?

He more than irritates me but at the same time I love the banter, the overtly sexual flirting and his ability to make me smile, even without trying.

I am more than aware that I give off mixed signals, as you can probably tell by our last conversation.  I want him to know I want him but at the same I want him to know I don’t care if I can’t have him.


Sorry, could someone point me in the direction of a couch?

My heart is already tangled up, how heavily remains to be seen.  My mind though is still fighting against him.  Will I win?  I doubt that very much!

Happy Valentine’s…. ❤❤

Half term hiatus…

There is something quite relaxing about the school holidays now.

I have slowly but surely grown to love them. This morning after a long lie-in and a lazy morning with lots of coffee, everything felt almost sublime. Not my usual Monday morning, that’s for sure.

Tom and Elsie also love the holidays.  However, they are now of the age where they don’t really need me to mind them, all they need really, is ferrying around to the various meets, and sleepover’s that they have usually arranged amongst themselves.

I try to engage them in family things but in all honesty they are not particularly interested. Tom is a street urchin and loves nothing more than being out, tearing about on his scooter or playing football.  Elsie just wants to shop and or be with her girls, gossiping, laughing and spending my hard-earned cash and I’m inclined to let them.  It is what being a child is all about.

It is a kind of freedom that is enjoyable but also tinged with a little bit of sadness, sad that they are now growing up. They are less dependant and less keen to have days out at the beach or go for picnics, not that this week has been picnic weather.

However, life as a working Mum is a lot easier now.  I am able to leave them home alone for periods at a time and this enables me to take some days off and work others. Or I can work every day but half-days so that I am home, even if they are not, which seems senseless but it is at least flexible and with flexibility comes some kind of peace.

For us as a family things seem to be calm, not so frantic and no longer so stressful.  This is very pleasant, I have to admit.

Obviously we still have our stresses, they are teenagers (well, OK Tom just thinks he is), so we still have our ups and downs but the stress that I used to feel when the school holidays were approaching has gone.  I don’t have to worry about working and being at home to look after them. Always working extra hours in term times so that I had more leave when the holidays came.  Now, I can easily manage both.  Which as a single parent is a huge relief.

We manage a mix of family time and their time and work time, it is still a juggling act but I am keeping the balls firmly in the air for the first time. This year will be my first year not worrying about how I will manage through all the holidays that children have and they have a lot.

Take today for example; I met Magic for a drink at the local pub.

I was able to do this because it is only down the road and Tom was out with friends at the skate park and Elsie was at home with one of her friends.  I was gone for an hour and a half and I can’t tell you how relaxed it felt.  No longer do I have to rely on someone to come and watch the children or to keep begging friends for favours here and there.  This is not because they wouldn’t help me, they would, they always do, if I ask but it is just nice not to have to keep asking.

It was nice.  It was a very spur of the moment thing.  Magic messaged me on Sunday, we didn’t message for long because I wasn’t really in the mood and he was off out anyway, he asked for my number which strangely I gave him, without any resistance at all.  I’m just getting far too relaxed about all this.

He phoned me this morning and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch, so I thought about it for, ohhh.. about 30 seconds and said ‘yes, why not‘.  It was a very nice lunch, with a very large glass of wine.  As we were saying Goodbye in the car park, he grabbed me.  He grabbed me and kissed me.

My first instinct was to fight it but he was having none of it.  Pressed up against his car and his considerably large frame I suddenly felt a little bit out of my depth.  I am a freckle past 5 ft, at a push, he, used to be a rugby player and is a large, big built fella. I would not have stood a chance.

He would have been able to pick me up with one hand and throw me anywhere he wanted to.

That, is a very sobering thought!

He stopped.  Just before my lungs collapsed, thankfully.  I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it but I can’t say that the fleeting thought of being murdered and dumped in the woods by the tyre swing, were doing much for my enthusiasm.

My knees had gone to jelly and my breathing well, it was laboured, to say the very least.

Then just as I inhaled a breath he was back, pressing himself up against me so hard I could feel that tiny little breath, I had just taken, exhaling as quickly as it had been inhaled.  His tongue was invading my mouth and I was all of a sudden, breathless and light-headed again.

I was kissing him back.  All sense of where I was and what I was doing, gone, completely. It seemed like for ever but it was probably only a few minutes at best. I was losing my grip, tugging at his lips with my teeth and circling his tongue with mine, matching his desire with my own.  He stepped back, very obviously aroused.

This was going to be one of my ‘oh shit’ moments.

He asked if I would have sex with him, there, in the car. I declined. ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘It’s not my style’ I said. I’m not sure if I have a style or not but outside my local pub in the middle of the day, certainly isn’t it. It’s a very small village. They will talk.

I prefer to keep my business well away from my doorstep, thank you.

He seemed ok with this and after another very demanding kiss, he turned on his heels and told me to text him later.

I, wobbled up the road home on my jelly legs.

It was later in the afternoon when things all went horribly wrong.  He text me, about an hour later. The conversation was crude to say the least.  He said he wanted to ‘fuck me’ and asked me when he could.  I tried politely to say that he couldn’t, not just like that and then the shit really hit the fan.

He called me.  Then he called me again and then he text me.  Then he called me again.  All the while texting me and trying to be nice but failing miserably.  I don’t know what it is about me that wants to reason with these people but it seems I always try to, rarely do I get anywhere though.  If anything I just make things worse.

I haven’t answered his last few calls. I can’t.

*note to self

Do not give out your number so readily.  Do not kiss anyone, anymore, ever.  Do not go back online until you have exhausted all other avenues of finding a life partner. Do not, well, just bloody do not!

It’s only day one.  Am I supposed to be the one causing all the drama?

In the dark…


I have recently discovered that I do not know what I want.  I don’t know who I am.

This may come as no surprise to you guys, as you may have worked this out already?

I have lost interest in the whole online dating thing.  I have hardly been online and when I have it is only because Mack has messaged.  However, Wednesday was my last communication with Mack, we have not spoken since.   Actually, he messaged yesterday, I replied, he replied and then I lost it.  I lost my will to talk, anymore.

Sterling, who was, quite literally, a five-minute wonder, never responded to my last message asking if there was any point to his daily Good Mornings and Good nights. 

Flash, well he is just Flash. He messages frequently and wants to meet on Tuesday but it’s half term, so that is out of the question this week.  He will wait though.  Flash is a bit childlike in a funny sort of way.  He gets over excited in that Labrador puppy, kind of way and gets a hard on at the drop of a saucy text but he is sweet/cute in a very unmanly way.  He is not for me but he is a, for me right now, if you get my drift.

Otherwise there is little to tell on the dating front.  I haven’t been on an actual date for what seems like ages.  I am lacking in conversation.  I mean real conversation about something other than sex.

I am in no way an intellectual.  I mean, I am educated, in that I went to school, well for the most part.  I passed my GCSE’s and went to college. I have travelled.  I read.  I like to learn and love trivia.  I am interested in things, all things, whatever they might be and I love nothing more than a good conversation.  I am not particularly knowledgable about any given subject but I could probably hold my own on most topics.

I need someone to stimulate my mind.

Just recently, well a few months ago actually, I started chatting to an old friend.  Let’s call him Gemini.  Gemini is married.  He has been married a long time and years ago when we first knew each other, which was pre-children for me, he was married then too.  I was still single and had recently returned from working abroad when we bumped in to each other again.  Back then there were a couple of times when we nearly crossed the friend zone.

He married young and has remained married all this time but has always indulged in extra marital activity.

We always got on well and made each other laugh easily, we had always been able to chat about all sorts of things and we were attracted to each other.  However something always stopped me from crossing the line with him.

It was the fact that even then, I knew that he was a bit different.

There are some people in life who you connect with, not necessarily on every level but in a way that you feel inside you are the same.  I was a bit shy around him when I first knew him, I lacked confidence then and he seemed so sure of who he was but I was just not as brave.

He is an eclectic mix of a man.  He is open about who is, what he does and what he is about and I love that about him.  He is an acquired taste he is very honest about his somewhat deviant sexual preferences and his very unorthodox spiritual beliefs.  He practices old religions.  I find this fascinating.

As friends, which I suppose is what we still are, even though it has been a few years since we have spoken we still have an openess about our relationship.  This morning he said, that he doesn’t know why he tells me some of the things he does.

I don’t either.  I suppose it is because at the end of the day everyone needs to talk to someone.  I am very much single, I don’t have anyone to properly confide in.  I don’t share things easily and find it difficult to open up emotionally but I feel like I could do that with Gemini.  However, there lies the danger.  I am a naturally guarded person, I don’t share easily, I wrestle with my heart and my head on a daily basis.

I can’t let myself become too attached to him, he is already attached.  I am not sure if I want him sexually, or for that matter if he wants me, although some of the things we talk about excite me and make me curious about what it would be like.

My fear is vulnerability.  I am scared of anyone knowing the real me.  I would rather not speak than tell someone, that deep down inside I crave some who will just love me, for me, with all my imperfections.  Someone who wants to take care of  me.  I’m so tired of being so tough.

In the next breath I will say that I don’t need taking care off, I can manage perfectly well on my own and of course I can.  I have been.  It is not particularly hard, although it has its ‘oh shit’ moments.  I have issues, that is something that is becoming increasingly evident to me.  I can’t talk about my issues, not yet.  Maybe admitting that I have them, out loud, is a start.

They are not serious issues, they do not stem from childhood or anything particularly sinister they are just issues I have with myself.  My struggle to break down the gigantic wall I have put up around myself for protection.  My eagerness to fight, before it is necessary and the ability to shut down my emotions, to cut myself off from anyone who has the potential to make me feel, well, anything at all really.

To me a relationship is about sex, nothing more.  Is that normal?  Probably not.  I think sex is a kind of love, an adoration, a power.  It is not though an emotional connection, not for me anyway.   I can’t connect the two.  To me love is something very different, it is a fairytale almost.  The unreachable, the impossible.

I expect too much from love, I know this.  I have compartmentalized.

I keep my desire for sex and company separate from my desire to be stimulated both in mind and body.  My wall doesn’t protect my heart it protects my mind, it stops me from revealing my true self, my thoughts and my desires and my inner workings.  The things that make me tick.  These are the things that are so important to me they can not be shared at will.

I am just starting to admit to myself that I think maybe I need a bit more.  A bit more than just casual, than just sex.  I need something whole, something with substance that captivates me.  I love a good thrill as much as the next guy but I feel like my mind is dying.

I’m at a point in my life where I need to reassess.  This may not come in the shape of relationship at all but just something new for me.  A leap of faith, a new direction, who knows, maybe it’s just time for a change.

Maybe, this feeling will pass as quickly as it seems to have arrived.  So fleeting are my thoughts.







I have to admit that I’m winging it with this one.

After an, actually, really lovely weekend I am back in the doldrums. I can’t seem to lift my mood.

In all honestly I think it has a lot to do with work. The place is just so negative at the moment. Usually, I can rise above it. However, at the moment I am struggling.  It has to be said that some of those faces could do with a jolly good slap.

Now, I feel quite brave in saying that on here (out loud) if you like, as some of them read this blog and although it is not my intention to upset, or hurt anyone’s feelings, it has to be said that there are a lot of miserable faces at present. The atmosphere is awful, negative and just downright unpleasant.

I know that sometimes we all feel low and fed up.  Sometimes we have days where we just want to crawl back in to bed but this has been going on for a while now.  I know it is SAD season and that people are well and truly fed up with Winter now.  I also know that we all have things in our home life that may be affecting us at work but for the love of God would you please just try and smile.  Not all the time but just every now and then would be good.

I bit back today, probably at the wrong person or maybe the right person, who knows but it was evident that I too was sinking in to the desperate air of despair and tomorrow I have decided I will not let them take me down. I am clinging by my fingernails to my inner happy…

Anyway, moving on.  At this moment in time, you will find me hiding in the bar of Tom’s new training ground.  I know, can you believe there is a bar.  I am all for football now!  Bring it on.  At the moment the only thing alcoholic I can see here is beer, disappointing but I suppose it is generally used by men and as I will be driving, coffee will do, as long as I can sit in the warm.  I will even watch the football highlights.

So while I have an hour to kill, well let’s call it 45 minutes, as I will have to show my face outside for at least 15 minutes later, I expect.  If only to appear friendly to the other parents.  This is my Achilles heel.

I have sometimes been accused of being snooty but this in no way intentional.  I just don’t find small talk easy.  I talk too much but it is not about the unnecessary shit.  I am too honest for my own good but sometimes I don’t want all and sundry to know everything about me, especially if they will not be in my life for very long.  Weird, for someone who talks about their life online, I get that but true, none the less.

This is why I struggle making small talk with guys online.  I don’t want to talk about whether we are coffee or tea people or whether we like going to the gym or if we like animals.  We can do that over a coffee can’t we?  I want to know if I like you.  I can’t just keep chatting without knowing whether I actually like you.  I’m getting nowhere with all this small talk.

Things with Mack are still going backwards and forwards.  We had our first row this week and we are not even dating.  We had an online row.  Have you ever heard such a ridiculous thing?  It culminated in him beating around the bush, again, one minute yes and then back pedaling out of the conversation, again, and me telling him to fuck off, again!

The next day, it is like nothing happened. Hey sexy, Good day?’  he says.

How can you row with someone you only message?  We met once a few months ago now and in the last week since we have started messaging again I’ve wanted to kill him almost every day.

He makes me so mad.  I can’t begin to tell you but at the same time I can’t leave him.  He is in my head and I can’t get rid of him and I am trying.  Honestly.

Or am I?

I am still talking to Sterling but he isn’t going to help me forget, as he is not very chatty and I am unsure what he wants really but so far our conversation has consisted of him saying Good morning and Good night every day and not much else.  He did ask for a picture, which I declined to send but he still says Good morning and Good night and he hopes, I have a lovely day!  Thanks, that is very kind of you but can I just ask?  Where the fuck is this all leading, anywhere?  To which, as yet I have had no reply.

This will not relieve me of Mack.

I know someone who might though.

So. Let me re-introduce you to Flash.  I have seen Flash before but under an ‘initial’.  I have now given him a nickname, as we are seeing if this makes things easier to remember the now growing number men that have been in and out, and in again, of my life.  I’m not convinced but I’m going with it.

Flash is nice.  He is dirty and likes being naughty.  He is though, a nice guy.  We have met and we have had sex, then it all got a bit awkward, it seemed like he didn’t really know how to handle things but all of a sudden we are back on track.  Kind off!

He began by messaging me about the weather and all things very unexciting, in a bid to tease out of me whether or not I would like to have sex with him again.  Can you not just ask me man?  We are way past small talk aren’t we?  Jesus, I never used to be this impatient, I’m sure?

So, I had no choice but to say..  Look, I like you, I enjoyed having sex with you and if you want it again, please, just book in. Well, not really like that but you know what I mean.

So he has booked in and in the mean time he is sending me nice messages and not irritating the shit out of me.  He is saucy but sweet at the same time, he has a very wicked side but he doesn’t come across as arrogant, the way Mack does.

Will he get in before Mack, probably as Mack is wasting my time and his, I expect?  However, it might just help to wean me off him again.

I should probably mention that this blog has taken ages to write because Mack is messaging me, he is available tonight as he is away on business and staying in a hotel room all on his own.

Do I feel like keeping him company?  In person?  Yes, I absolutely do.  By message?  No, I absolutely do not.

At this moment in time I don’t know if I want to kiss him or kill him!  I’m going with the latter.

Choose life…

High and lows this week.

Let’s concentrate on the highs.

Tom trialled out for a football team this week and was selected.  Woo hoo!

Well, I say Woo Hoo, obviously it’s Woo Hoo for him but not so much a Woo Hoo for me, who will now be spending Wednesday evenings AND Sunday mornings freezing my bits off on the sidelines.  *note to self, invest in some thermal socks.

He is made up though and a happy Tom makes for a happy me.  His first training session will be on Wednesday and his first match all being well will be on the 18th, which of course, is the weekend I have booked to go away with my friend.  Typical.  *note to self, no more self-indulgence at weekends, at least not in football season.

Elsie has categorically stated that she will NOT be accompanying me to watch her brother ‘chase a ball around’.  Her reasons for this were because it will be cold and there will be boys everywhere, (Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of that, most unlike me) and  I always shout and it’s embarrassing.  What?  What do you mean I always shout?

‘You shout and cheer and it’s embarrassing,’ she said.

Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?  Encourage and support, be a super-fan.  Apparently not.

I have always been super competitive.  I think I have got a bit better with maturity and I no longer get sulky or stroppy if I don’t win but I do like to win.   I also like my children to win.  I am not really a believer in the whole, it’s the taking part that counts, rubbish.  Yes, taking part is great but can we just be honest here and say that sport, any sport is supposed to be competitive.  Isn’t it?  Who plays to lose?

There is nothing wrong with wanting to win or striving to be good at something.  I am not suggesting that this means you should be an arse and win at any cost but you can be good at something and win and be a nice, surely?

Elsie has youth club on a Wednesday anyway but it would be nice if she could come to the matches with me,  just so I don’t look like a complete loner.  No husband or partner of any variety will be very evident at these things I expect, as football is very much a Dad thing.  I don’t claim to know the rules or understand what is happening but I will be there cheering my boy on, loudly.

Elsie finally decided her ‘options’ this week and has submitted her form.  Her chosen subjects were;  Dance, Textiles, Spanish and PE.

I am still undecided as to what I think of those choices but they are her choices.  I am a firm believer in doing things that make you happy and that you enjoy.  You spend a lot of time studying and eventually working,  it is important to enjoy what you do.

We are only here once.  Is it more important to be successful or to be happy?  This is a massive question.  What does successful mean?  Can you be successful and satisfied, in a way that you are not always craving more?

In life we learn as we go.  Some of our decisions might not be great decisions but life is about learning along the way.  You can also, change the direction of your life as and when you want to, should you choose to do so.

Elsie has the fancies of being a Teacher of some variety when she is older, she also quite likes the idea of events organising and wedding planning  or working in the fashion/beauty industry, there is a lot for her to decide upon yet.  She may in the end choose something completely unrelated to any of the above.   She is however, very determined to do well and has high hopes and dreams for her future.  Something that a lot of kids her age lack completely and I will be encouraging her all the way (quietly obviously) so as not to embarrass.

I ended the week turning forty-six!

Yes, yesterday was my birthday.  I have not been looking forward to my birthday for some reason, this one, just seemed like it was a birthday too far!

Before my birthday I was completely resentful, reluctant, refusing even to believe that I could possibly be forty-six.  I was happy being forty-five and would have been very happy to remain forty-five, forever.  However, I do not have the power to stop time and so I am now forty-six.

I just felt that forty-six was too old.  It is the wrong bloody side of anywhere, too near fifty, that’s for bloody certain.  Inside, I’m not even really a grown-up.  How can this be happening?

However, today, I’m over it.

I had a great birthday, with lots of nice surprises.  Breakfast in bed made by Tom and Elise, although to be fair it was more like lunch by the time Elsie surfaced.  She had said to me the night before that I mustn’t get up early.  This is quite hard at my age as I don’t really sleep in anymore, much as I would like to sometimes.

I did have to get up and make a coffee at about 9 though, there was no way I was going to last until she woke up, without any caffeine.  I grabbed the laptop and my coffee and went back to bed to watch a box set.  There is something that feels wrong about being in bed all morning as an adult, you just feel guilty.   It was though, actually quite relaxing.

Last night we were out with some family and friends for a friendly game of ten-pin bowling and dinner/drinks which was really good fun and now I am chilling on the sofa at home with the kids.  It has been a lovely weekend.  I am officially forty-six and I don’t feel any differently than I did on Friday, a bit more accepting obviously but still not very grown-up.

I don’t think in my head this will ever change.  I may look different on the outside, my appearance will change, I will look older but on the inside, I will always be a singer, dancer, lover of fun and frolics and will never admit to being responsible, ever.  Amen.

On the dating front it has been quiet.

I am talking to a couple of newbies, it is all very slow at the moment though and I haven’t really been engaging.

However, we have got to the point where the guys are starting to have the same names.  This is causing much confusion, with me and the buddies and I suspect with you, so we have come up with a plan.  A nickname.

Some of them already have one.  Like Mack, his name was obvious from the very start.  So we will give this a go and see how it works.

I should probably mention that Mack and I are still communicating.  I use the word communicating quite loosely, where Mack is concerned.  For someone with some obvious signs of intelligence he lacks conversational skills, although I am not entirely sure this isn’t purposeful.  He has, however, dropped all, or most, of the LOLing.  Thank God.

Why am I still talking to Mack?  I don’t know.

I have a curiosity about people, this will be the undoing of me.  Some people intrigue me from the off and others don’t intrigue me at all.  I don’t know what the criteria is for that or if it is something in me, that sees something in them.  I am though very good at wasting my time with these sorts.

Besides Mack, there is not a lot happening.  No one has really caught my attention, a few conversations that have not really gone anywhere, for whatever reason and maybe the fact that I haven’t really been in the mood?  Or is it because Mack is messing about in my head again?

I have been chatting to a fairly local guy, who I shall call Sterling.  He seems nice he is older than I would usually select, at 48  (I have just read this back to myself and almost LOLed at the thought that he is older than me, FFS!  I’ve forgotten already that I’m forty bloody six, he is a massive two years older than me!  I need to get a grip)  but this may not be a bad thing and he has a full head of hair, a very grey full head of hair but hair, none the less.  He looks quite slim in his pictures and he is tall at 6″ 2, according to his profile.  He wants to meet for coffee, this week, if possible and I am inclined to go, if I can find something inconspicuous to stand on.

The thing with a daytime/coffee date, is footwear.  You can reasonably get away with ridiculously high shoes in the evening but less so in the daytime.  Anyway at 6″2,  I doubt there is a shoe in the world, that will bring me within kissing distance.

Let’s hope he never wants to go for a stroll along the beach. 😉