Things I am grateful for - notes from a Single Mum

What a weekend!

I am grateful for PTAs, without whom there wouldn't have been a school film, Christmas Fayre and dozens of excellent events. Little Monster had a brilliant time despite falling off her chair (well-deserved bump on the caboose since she was tilting her chair backwards, had a bit of a cheeky grin on when she told me).

A strange thing happened to me at the fair - I had a slight panic attack, elevated heart-rate, hyperventilation, desperate desire to flee. I had to move to less crowded corner to breathe properly. I don't think I'd ever been that uncomfortable in a crowd before. I guess it must have been the enclosed space. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but I was wound tight as a spindle, and had to grit my teeth for Little Monster's sake. Fortunately, we then found friends and just like magic, the tension evaporated. It's amazing what a friendly smile and a welcoming greeting can do. And mulled wine. That took the edge off too.

When we got home, I had to have a bit of a "lie down". Damn, was I was tired. And continued to be so all the way through our dear friends' party. Ah! What a lovely, cosy evening! Our first Canadian tree-trimming party.

Apparently, in Canada, you went outside, chopped your own tree down, brought it in-doors and trimmed it to fit the space. And it's a tradition to invite friends and family to help decorate it and the house while consuming much food and alcohol.

Little Monster and I had the best time - there was gorgeous food, such amazing cakes! and great company, stories, songs and colouring in! Everyone was invited to draw and colour in themed pictures to hang on the walls. Of course, Little Monster was in her element. Although, I think her favourite bit was actually doing the tree (our contribution was home-made baubles from pine cones which we painted silver and covered in glitter.)

Sunday we went a little stir crazy at home but a little wrestling, and careful chopping up of a Romanesco broccoli for dinner sorted us out. 

I am, once again, down to my last few pounds but you know what? My life is incredibly rich. Yes, there are moments of sadness, slices of despair, but I can't help but be thankful that I have had the privilege of experiencing the wonderful gifts that life has offered.

Womanning up

These past few days have been a little revelatory*.  It seems my "This Is A Bad Idea" alert has malfunctioned.

I wonder at my unthinking capacity to be used. A couple of incidents over the last few weeks have made me wonder if I am such a people-pleaser that I don't even notice when I am being ill-treated until the damage is felt. And even then, the discomfort only surfaces hours or even days later. It's almost as if I go into shock.

I don't really know why I don't care for myself as well as I should. I believe I do value myself -- removing myself from a situation that was extinguishing me is an indicator -- and yet, I find myself doing things just to please someone I barely know. Or rather, so that they would, god help me, like me.

So, I am saying to myself, "What are you? A child? Woman up for fuck's sake!" This is a perpetual tussle within me. But I have a new frame. She comes in size 12 shoes, and wants only for me to be with her, to be present for her. I am her world and right now, who and what I am, she sees and learns from. If I don't love myself, and show her that I do, only bad things can ensue. Sure, she'll learn from them, but I'd rather she have a role model that she can be proud of.

And I'd rather be a role model I'd be proud of too.

*Then again, since I left my old life, every other day seems to throw up something new about myself. It's like I had been shattered into millions of little pieces, then scattered all over the place. Each day, as I journey, I uncover a different piece, so shaped by its environs that it no longer fits into its old spot. So I have to study it anew, and make a new place for it within the new me. 

"Apologies for the delay to your service..."

It's been eight weeks since my corporate job ended and I launched myself into the great unknown.

I've signed up with various recruitment agents, created a profile on Freelancer.com and finally uploaded my work on Vimeo.

But...

I've been hesitating about actually producing my creative CV. Stalling about contacting those great companies I would love to do work for. When I actually sit down and start, I become paralysed.

I met a personal trainer this week - not as a client, but on a date - and he certainly had interesting things to say about fear and failure. I don't think I've ever met anyone with such indomitable belief in himself* -- it was almost breathtaking. He's right of course.

Google "procastination" and its causes, and fear is the number one answer. So the question is, what am I afraid of precisely? That the people I contact will look at what I have to offer and go pfft. That I'm not actually as good as I think I am. That I'm kidding myself. Round and round, ad infinitum.

I know what I need to do, but I am struggling to move, even though the prospect of impending poverty is making me slightly sick.

But I am moving, even though it feels like I'm moving through peanut butter.

*It also helps that he's not yet 30. The date itself was lovely -- he made me laugh, cry(!) and feel wonderful. It was a much needed lift to a grey day.