I hope I don't die before I've had a chance to live

The Simon Pegg character says something along those lines in the film Hector and the Search For Happiness+. 

About a month ago, I became acquainted with a young blogger on Twitter who had ditched it all to travel around the world. I've been vicariously enjoying his adventure through a tiny 5.5 inch screen. He's been telling me a little about the places he's been, the people he's met and the things he's done. He's a great photographer too -- his pictures have been awe-inspiring.

The nature of my marriage meant that I couldn't travel as much as I wanted and if I were to be brutally honest, it was my own relationship with money that caused much of that. But we did have some adventures: we'd canoed down the River Severn, then taken a steam train back up. I loved the canoeing bit best. Being on the water was wonderful. We'd gone to Sonisphere the year I found out I was pregnant. I felt Little Monster move for the first time while Iron Maiden was on.

We'd also been on a couple of boating holidays on the Broads, camping and theme parks. We love rollercoasters; my favourite moment was hanging at the top of a ride called the Mega Drop at Pleasurewood Hills on the Norfolk coast. I could see the shining sea over the treetops and the silence was almost divine.

I'd never been skiing, or jumped off a waterfall, nor been in a hot air balloon. But I am aiming to do so. Little Monster and I have been talking about all the places we hear about and like to see: she wants to go to Rabbit Island in Japan (and be mobbed by rabbits!) and of course, she wants to go to Singapore. I too would like to return to Japan, and revisit the amazing places I'd been as a teen. But I'd also like to go to the ones I'd never been: Vietnam. Korea, Australia, New Zealand, Africa, China and for some reason, Canada has been on my mind a lot. I would love to see the Northern Lights.

My godparents*, who should be retired, are still seeing the world. They are my inspiration. When my life shattered the first time round in 2000, one of my old friends from university went off on a round the world trip with his wife. The stories he told were marvellous and inspiring, and made me wish I was doing that. 

Well, I'm not certain I could do what my intrepid Tweeter is doing. or what my godparents continue to do, but I am going to give it a damn good shot. Our first stop will be Singapore of course.

+ Irritatingly, it seemed to say that happiness is having a partner and that a family completes you. Gah.
*The bestest, most awesomest grown-ups I have the privilege of knowing. 

You, me and Santa

It's Boxing Day 2015 and I've just spent my first Christmas as a single person in 21 years. It's also the first without family around me, not even my Little Monster. But I wasn't alone.

Bubs and me spent Christmas Eve with a friend and a young family we used to live next to. Yo cooked up a traditional Polish meal for us and there were even presents under a tree! Bubs had a great time helping -- she asked us to guess what dessert was and tricked us into believing it was cake. Much fun was had. And for Christmas Day itself, my lovely friends shared their dinner with me while bubs was at her grandparents' with her father.

So, Santa.

As an unrepentant atheist parent, I am conflicted about the whole Father Christmas thing. I've always told bubs that all her presents were from people who loved her. But of course, everywhere we turn, the inevitable "So what have you asked Santa for this Christmas?" question is asked, and he appears in every place we go. Understandably, bubs is confused too. She knows I don't believe in Santa. But feedback from everyone else indicates otherwise. I could see her mulling over this conundrum in the run up.

On the way home in the taxi, the driver asked if bubs had been good for Santa. The answer was a very firm, "Santa doesn't exist!" and she scrambled out of the cab (the driver was startled and I think a little horrified that someone so young was already so cynical). Minutes later, she scribbled a note to Santa on her sketch pad asking him for a bike and propped it up on the window for him to see. I tried to explain it was too late but she was adamant. Of course, Christmas Day dawned and no bike. Well, she said, that means Santa doesn't exist. I think she'd already decided that and it was a last ditch attempt to prove herself wrong. She's a little sad, and angry I think, but seems to accept that it is so. I suspect that she'd asked Santa for her parents to be together at Christmas and that is what led to the realisation that he isn't real.

But we shared a good Christmas morning together -- she loved her Space Putty and toy Tribble -- and I loved watching her play while I did last minute wrapping. Her father came to collect her and I got the cold shoulder for, I suspect, sending her away. I was a bit saddened, but I know it was the best thing for her. At least for today.

She's not home yet from her grandparents'; I wonder how it went. But when she comes home, I will tell her that I missed her and that I wasn't sending her away. I will tell her that other people love her too and I can't keep her all to myself. She makes so many people happy, it would be too selfish of me not to share.

I have said many times, and as recently as yesterday, that I am not cut out to be a mother. I think I have been looking at this wrong. The shape that I am is not that of a mother as I believe should be, But if I turn my head just so, I can may be see a glimmer of one. And of course, I have the tools and a willing helper to re-shape me. Customised and everything. 

Stretched, compressed, distracted

This past week has really tested my equanimity and I'm afraid by Saturday morning, I was pretty much combusting.

I once wrote that I was not made for motherhood, and I stand by that. I don't love it, not like my amazing friend Celia*, who very clearly does and thrives on it.

For reasons of her own, Little Monster insisted that I pick her up from school every day instead of her father. Seven days of this, and not once did she ask for him or ask about him. She would say things like "You and me and daddy" when telling me a story, but that was rarely. She seems happy enough but by god, by day eight (Saturday) I was in shreds.

In between hustling her up in the mornings for school, picking up from school, playing with her and all the usual day-to-day stuff, I was also looking for work, applying for jobs, and thinking of ways to make money, all of which I had to compress into the few hours that Little Monster was at school. Once we were together, well, it was just all her. There was no room for me.

And as usual, when I get pushed into a corner like that, I start looking for distractions. Or allowing distractions to divert me because that's better than enduring what appears to be endless GAAAH!

I'm glad I'd arranged for her to go to her grandparents' that day. But once she'd gone, the pressure that had been brewing in my head just took over the rest of me and all I could do was curl up under the duvet. A day's productivity lost.

But I am grateful for two old friends (M and M oddly enough!) who have not yet given up on me, even though I had been recalcitrant on the work and money front and not moving as fast as I should.

I'm also utterly grateful for the generosity of others. I can't even begin to tell you how that makes me feel.

The great news is I should be gainfully employed by the end of the week, and my access to delightful diversions will be seriously curtailed. Those who know me now will know this is the thing I will miss the most.

Question is, will I actually give it up? Someone observed that I was hooked on the attention I get from people like him. And he's quite right. Come on, who doesn't love being desired, especially if the person doing it is young and beautiful?


*If it weren't for her and her generous family, I don't know if Little Monster would be safe from me.