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. 😉