Dreams

Its been a whirlwind of a year, hasn't it? And there isn't a person who doesn't reflect back on the year gone by and pick out the good bits and the bad and what they are going to change for the year ahead.

I learn something new every year and I always marvel at what I do learn.  Some mind blowing things, some trivial issues, some things that just make me laugh.  But its learning all the same. 

Here is what I have learned this year. 

• I will never get caught out again at a family court case .  It came totally out of the blue and I was unprepared.  I didn't have enough time to become prepared.  We went in blindly.  I learned that this is never going to happen to me again.   I now have, what I lovingly refer to as a "Portfolio of Bullshit" that I have painstakingly put together.  It does exactly what it says on the tin.  Lets hope that it will never happen again, but if it does...

• Connor is a predictably lazy teenager.  He lives in a sea of unwashed clothes dumped on his bedroom floor.  However, when he is working at TLC Autocentres he becomes a different person.  He works hard and enjoys every minute.  I appreciate more than he, that he isn't always going to work in a job he loves quite so much but I will cross that bridge when I come to it.   But for now I think he is in a good place in life.

• Skye is a hard worker who veers from the path occasionally but responds really well to a sit down and a chat to set her on her way again.  She is working really hard at school and she knows exactly what she wants out of life.  She is amazingly funny with a sharp wit which I love.  She is a stroppy teenager who really really struggles with not having the last word in an argument.  Just like me.  She helps me out so much with the boys, even though sometimes she could kill them all.  She will go far, my girl.  She will. 

• Roman is a quiet, unassuming boy.  He has dreams of becoming a footballer for The Arsenal.  I have already chosen the car I want when his money starts rolling in.  Mattias is a loony tune.  He idolises Roman.  They are the closest of brothers and I love that.  Mattias cries when Roman stays away overnight on a sleepover as he misses him so much.  It melts your heart.  And Baby Arlo - my whirlwind of activity.  He cannot speak sentences yet but is happy to shout the loudest to be heard.  He makes makes me laugh and cry in equal measures. 

• I have to come to terms that my quest for everyone to indicate on a mini roundabout is futile and I need to let it go.  It enrages me that there are so many thoughtless people on our roads but I can't change them.  So, this new year I am letting go.  I will no longer want to follow you and stove your head in if you fail to indicate at a mini roundabout.  I will have to think of something else to take my mind off this perilous thought.  Maybe thinking of a new thing to think about will take my mind off it

• I still, to this day, can't understand how I am not an X Factor winner.  I watch the show sporadically year in and year out.  I listen to myself sing powerful ballads in the shower and think Simon Cowell would be in awe if he heard me.  Its obviously not my path to be a mega successful recording artist and I will have to live with the fact that the world is missing out.

• I drive an automatic car and have done now for two years.  I thought driving a car was like riding a bike and you never forget.  I for one, would like to blow this theory out of the water.  I recently drove a manual and screeched the shit out of it through Basingstoke adding a couple of wheel spins in for good measure.  I was appalling.  I am sticking to my automatic and seriously wonder why there is a need for a manual.  I have become the epitome of lazy driver.  And as an aside, I have not yet messed up the petrol/ diesel thing.  I have both types in my household,  I stand staring between pump and car for a good five minutes before I make my decision just so that I am sure that I get it right.  My heart still skips a beat when the stuff starts flowing just in case I made one of those "not thinking" decisions.  But so far so good. 

There is a lot more I could write but I appreciate that someone of you will want to start on the New Year shenanigans and blogging two posts in two days is overkill even in my eyes.

The most important thing I learn year in year out is how lucky I am.  Lucky to have a good family, good friends and good health. 

We all have bad times, bad years even.  But we can all pick ourselves up, dust ourselves down and move on and try really hard to have better times.  I am a believer that you can help steer your own destiny. 

There is no better time in the world than New Years eve to be just a little excited about what the new year holds.   I have a holiday of a lifetime planned  , I want to build a lodge in my back garden, I want to lose the half stone I put on through eating mammoth amounts at Christmas,   I want to drink less and save more money.  But who knows if any of this will happen?  These are my dreams on New Years Eve.  This is what I am hoping for in 2014. 

I wish you all a Happy New Year.  I really do.  Eat, drink and be merry. 

I hope that all of your dreams come true in 2014.  But if they don't.  Pick yourself up,  dust yourself down as there is always the next year, or the year after that....

Jurgen

I blog about things I have an opinion about.  I am good at having an opinion and more often than not my opinion if right.  In my head. 

I used to write for just me.   Then I started to post my blog to Facebook and much to my genuine surprise people seemed to like it.  I then had the fear that I would write to make people like me but found that that's impossible for me, I write what I feel and I just know what to write and when.  I want people to like what I write but it's ok if they don't.

This blog is more of an ode to the one I love.   It wont appeal to all and it will feel like a brag fest to some but its been playing on my mind for a while and when that happens I need to get it down.

This weekend we went to Lymington in the caravan with the children and our neighbours.  We had a lovely couple of days but then the weather turned,  and gale force winds came in and it all became a little bit nasty.

At 4.30am today the wind was so horrific that it took our awning down.  Ripped it almost right off the side of our caravan.   All our things were in there.  Our dog, our food, some clothes, our shoes, the buggy, coats etc etc...

Jurgen heard the awning go and jumped out of bed and he was gone.  I ambled to get some clothes on and followed him.  He was out there in just his t shirt and pants with a giant awning flapping about in hurricane Charlie, trying to save our stuff single handed.  Luckily, like a superhero, our neighbour appeared (fully dressed) and together with Connor, they managed to take the awning down and get the stuff into our car.  All in the cold, wet and dark.

It took them at least half an hour and the weather was atrocious but they didn't complain, not once.

When it was all over and our neighbour had gone,  I  made a cup of tea and we were sat in our bed, with the light on chatting, it suddenly occurred to me what this man would do for me and our family without blinking. 

He just does things like this, on a much smaller scale admittedly, daily.    I don't mean lifesaving, superhuman things.  I just mean considerate things that make my life so much easier and this weekend has made me realise that I  do take it for granted.

He always clears up the toilet business when we go camping.  He traipses all the way to the sluice and gets rid of all of our whatever's and never moans, or asks me to do it. 

He always walks traffic side when we walk along a road, he always holds a door open for me and insists I go first, he always pushes the buggy when we are out, or always pushes the supermarket trolley when we are shopping. 

He appears to always listen to what I say and often surprises me with gifts of things that I have said I like.  He knows how much I love flowers and buys them for me a lot.  He seems to be constantly thinking of me and trying hard, daily, to make me happy.

This Christmas I got far too much.  Embarrassingly so, as his presents to me outweighed mine two to one.  But they were all thoughtful gifts that I had mentioned that I liked or I needed.  He takes great delight, apparently, in giving me things that make me smile.

The thing is this.  He isn't perfect.  FAR FROM IT.

He does bugger all around the house unless I nag until his ears bleed.    He'll take the washing up but not put it away.  He will clean the inside of the toilet, but not the outside.  He hoovers occasionally but only the spot where he has made a mess, not the entire room.  He has no idea what buttons to use on the washing machine.   He gets the children to unload the dishwasher.   His side of the bedroom is a shit hole but he moans like buggery at the children to keep their bedrooms tidy.  He is a mass of lazy hypocrisy but  I adore him. 

He may be housework lazy but he does all my DIY.  He is painfully slow at doing it but if I give him a deadline he generally gets it done.  And soon my entire house is going to be finished. 

He has the most annoying habit of waking me up every time he goes to the toilet overnight,  just to ask if I am ok.  Or to tell me that he loves me.  Or to ask me a questions about work or the likes.  I ask him not to do this because it interrupts my sleep but he continues to do it.   Every night.

He sorts the shit out with the cars and I sort the shit out with the finances. 

This weekend has made me realise that whatever we are doing it works for us.    I think he works far too hard at making me happy because, he obviously doesn't yet realise that I just am.  Happy.  Being with him.

I am not easy to live with and I know that.   But I do know that my day to day life is made so much easier by having Jurgen with me.  And he is a saint for putting up with me. 

And I am fully aware that there are people who's opinions will differ.   I know that.  Of course I do.  But I am still not interested ( I vaguely remember stating that my opinion is more often than not, right.)

So, if you managed to get this far.  Thank you.

I am not an agony aunt.  But  I really hope that you all feel some of  this on a day to day basis.  If you don't then, I dunno, maybe its time for a little rethink. 

Because when you meet a man/ woman who is more than happy to clear up your "whatever's" from the caravan toilet then, in my opinion, you have got it made...




 

Basic

So, on the back end of yesterdays storms,  the never ending power cuts and my fence that is now laying forlornly horizontally in the garden, I realised how much we take "power" for granted...

Last night I arrived home to a completely dark house and bewildered children.  They couldn't quite grasp that no power meant they couldnt watch TV, play Xbox or even turn the light on in the downstairs loo.

I had to think what I could cook by candle light by using the hob alone.  We chose Spaghetti Bolgonese and because the kitchen was the only room with light, everyone sat around the kitchen table whilst I got on with dinner.

We all talked about our day.  My work, Jurgens work.  About the impending visit from Father Christmas.  About Christmasses gone by.  It was really nice.  It made me think how, with Xbox, Playstation, TV and the likes we no longer communicate like this on a day to day basis.

The children including my oldest all then played Hide and Seek.  I laughed as my oldest boy hid in the dark while his younger brothers rushed round looking for him.  He hasn't done this in years.  He is brilliant with my younger children but he is far too busy on Xbox or out playing football to have too much time to spend time with us.  My daughter on the other hand is always entertaining my boys.  Its just what she does best.

We then took the dog for a walk.  We all wrapped up in our coats, hats and gloves and walked in the howling wind and pouring rain.  We got blown to bits and soaking wet.  We got home and the power was back on so I bunged all the wet clothes in the washing machine and the boys went back to their TV.

For a brief while I was really content.   I loved just spending time together with no interuptions.  Its funny because with all the best intentions I am pretty sure that we won't do it again until the next power cut. 

With the run up to Christmas driving me to distraction with shopping, wrapping, presents, counting, more wrapping, more shopping...anyway you get the idea.  It was just nice to put the brakes on and chat to my children. 

I love spending time with them all.  They are all different and unique in their own ways.  Together they are as mad as a box of frogs but its hilarious and I do love to laugh.

As Jurgen & I shut the door on the world for two whole days as Christmas approaches,  I am so excited at just being at home with them all. 

Whatever you are all doing this year, enjoy yourselves.  Enjoy the break from work if you are lucky enough to be at home.  Enjoy work if you are not.  But most of all, those with children, enjoy them.  They grow up so fast and time passes too quickly.  Make memories for them all.  Memories are forever and no one can take them away from you. 

Happy Christmas to you all....

Beauty

Three weeks ago I stood in front of Skye and allowed her to take photo's of me in my bra and knickers from the front, side and back.  The horror that came from looking at these photo's was enough for me to start the torture that is bootcamp.

I'm eating healthy and really trying hard to become some kind of super model within four weeks.

I returned home last night and collapsed on the sofa.  I was flush in the face, felt sick, my legs were like jelly, my eyes were heavy and I felt like a big bag of shite.

I was in bed at 9pm, which hasn't happened for years and I was asleep by 10pm.

My sleep is now fitful and restless. I think the adrenaline is still running through my body at 3am and I sleep like I have had 18 pints of lager.  And you all know what that sleep is like...

I start the day exhausted because of the 18 pint sleep business. 

Two days a week I am in the pool at 7.30am for a 50 length swim.   I then work a 40 hour week and now four nights a week I am doing a hardcore exercise class.

It's overkill.  Its exhausting.   It's killing me.

Tonight I have been thinking.

Who determines how beautiful we are?  Who determines how a person should look?   Who determines anything about me? 

The simple answer is "I do". 

I decide if I am beautiful.  I decide how I should look.  I determine everything about me.

So, why I am almost killing myself to try and be more beautiful?  Why am I almost killing myself to be thinner? 

There is no doubt that I want to be fitter.  That is a given.  And I am.  So much fitter.  Now I can do so much more without getting breathless.  I am asthmatic and it is controlled to the point of non existence and I can exercise hard and fast for long periods and not gasp like a fifty a day smoker.  I want to be like this.  I want to be fit but I don't want to kill myself to be fit.

I have had five children.  This gives me the right to have a stomach the size of Loch Ness that almost touches the floor when I walk.  Having children is the greatest achievement in my life why do I want to eradicate every memory of that from my body?  I should be proud of the body that I have now.

I am never going to be a size zero and frankly I would look bloody ridiculous if I was.  But its time I started embracing what I do look like as opposed to always trying to change it.

My husband tells me daily that I am beautiful and he couldn't care less what size I am.   So, its not like I am doing it to make my husband "want" me.  My children tell me I am beautiful (and that I cook lovely dinners).  So why do I feel the need to change so much?

I will continue to exercise.  I will, its a big part of my life.  But bootcamp three times a week?  I can't sustain that and maybe its time that I realised I don't need to sustain that.

We are all different.  We all need to learn to be happy with what we have, as long as it remains within the realms of healthy.

I like myself.  I like the fact that I am confident, outgoing and can sometimes be funny.  I now need to start liking the fact that my weight is also something that can be ok.

I'm not getting any younger, its time I found a happy medium.

So, I am going to try and calm down with the quest of finding "beauty" and realise that my inner beauty is equally as effective.

You know, we all carry around a different part of beautiful.  Its about finding your own and realising that you have it.  

Charity

I appreciate that the point of a charity is for normal folk,  like you and I, to donate and then the charity is able to give whatever it is that they have said they will give.  Or something like that.

All good, right?

But I have a problem with all the charities that are now asking for my help...

I can't support them all.  I don't want to support them all.

There are charities that are dear to your heart and then others that you couldn't care less about.  It's a personal choice.  And one that I feel should be exactly that.....personal.

This week I have been approached by all the schools this side of Charityville,  about Children In Need.   It's a charity that I would generally support.  Then I have been approached by another school about the DEC and the Phillipines disaster,  Another charity that I would gladly support.  Then there is Pink Monday, another charity I would gladly support.  But how can I afford to support them all?   Who's the better charity?  Who is more deserving?  Children in Need or those devastated in the Phillipines?  Or those who have suffered the loss of a child through cancer... Pink Monday? 

The pressure on me to make this decision.  I don't want it and, again, I don't need it.  

I want to support them all.  I want everyone to benefit.  But you can't.  You simply cannot help everyone. 

I am a massive cancer research supporter.  Mainly because I have lost my dad to cancer and I wouldn't want anyone to suffer the way I have.  This is the charity most dear to my heart.  I want to support them, above all else.  But does this make me horrible because I wont give to the RSCPA because it means nothing to me?  Or if I was too skint to give to Children In Need?  Or I wasn't engrossed with the NSPCC? 

I remember having a row with someone on my doorstep because I couldn't afford to make a monthly direct debit to their charity and objected the to the intrusion of saying "no" on my doorstep.  It's invasive.  I don't agree.  I will give to charity if I want, but not because I am forced.  

This week I have been asked to provide for many charities... not because I want to but because I don't want my children to look like they don't want to , if you see what I mean... 

I think charity has overwhelmed us as a population and its frowned upon if you don't donate.  And I genuinely feel that there isn't a person in the world who wouldn't donate to them all if they could.

As Children In Need overtakes my television for a marathon 6 billion hours....just remember this....

Charity?     The means of giving for those in need.  Fair enough.  But YOU chose who that person/ organisation is that is in need.  Not One Direction.  Not Gary Barlow.  Not Terry Wogan. 

You.

And if you don't feel like donating, or you simply cannot afford to donate.  Don't.  Its not the law.....

Luck

I have never thought myself to be particularly lucky.  I am adverse to buying raffle tickets because I know that I won't win.  Even if it is a tin of "savers" beans.  They won't end up belonging to me.

Luck.  It's a funny thing, isn't it?

My childhood was great.  End of.  My dad passed away when I was 14 which was utterly devastating.  That was unlucky.   But my lovely mum picked it up, turned it around and the rest of my childhood and early adult years were great.

When I was 19 I met Jurgen.  We had danced together in Martines numerous times.  We then spent a night afterwards, chatting about everything and anything and I KNEW we had a connection.  However, for reasons that are unexplained I never took his follow up phone calls and I married someone else.  As did he.  Twice.  The dickhead.     That was unlucky.   For both of us.  But more for him than me. 

I went on to have  Connor and Skye, respectfully,  from the biggest, most loveable knob end to grace this planet.  I am lucky to have them.  Very lucky.

Jurgen  runs his own business.  He has been working consistently for three years.  Quite successfully,  and he has had consistent work for yonks.  That's lucky.

I was asked to apply for another job when Communicare came to an end, and I was  lucky to land my current job, which I love with all amounts of equal emotions.   I have found my new niche.  It pains me as much as it thrills me.  It's the best job.  It suits me and I would never have applied for it had it not been for the demise of Communicare.  And now I cannot see me doing anything else.

I have had further luck.  We were taken to the family court this April.  I genuinely thought our luck was going to run out.  We had little time to fight the ludicrous, vicious claims or get legal representation of our own.  To avoid  BORING you to within an inch of your life, Jurgen's ex didn't continue to pursue an absurd Non molestation order as long as Jurgen agreed to joint residency for her and her new partner (no longer sure if they're married)  and agreed for the children to have passports.   We would have agreed to this without going to court.  Who wouldn't want to give the opportunity for their children to be safe and secure within their family and travel and see the world?  Remarkably and luckily for us it cost us NOTHING (except for a celebratory Mexican meal (and beer for me) afterwards) but  it must have cost her a small bloody fortune to take us to court.  I would have been furious if I had paid for legal representation for that debacle.  Seriously.   And we got bloody brilliant free legal advice from HER solicitor too for free.  Free.  Didn't cost me a penny.  My luck appeared to be endless...

I have five, beautiful healthy children.  I am really lucky to have a genuinely brilliant husband.  I drive nice cars (in my opinion).  I have a nice (to me)  house.  I have a undisputable fab job.  I have seen loads of the world,  Hawaii being the most awesome.  I am not any where near £43,500 in debt.   I am currently lucky...

But I wouldn't win a tin of beans in a raffle?

I often have concerns that my luck is due to run out....is that how it works?

It is a thought that I am far too familiar with...

What if we are all entitled to a little bit of luck but when your's runs out....it's a decline into shit ville.

What if "luck" is classed as trivial as your car will no longer routinely pass its MOT? 
Or that your gas central heating will no longer function routinely, every year...
Or that you need to fight an NMO in court....

I have everything now.  The happy children.  The husband who wants me to be happy but is also happy with me.  Who texts me 20 times a day to tell me he loves me.  Who phones me endlessly daily, to chat and catch up,  Who tells me that after 8 years he is as excited now as he was when we first met about spending the weekend together.  Who cleans out kitchen cupboards to make more room for the cereal I have overbought...

I may not be lottery winning lucky but I am proper lucky...

But is that the natural course of events?  Can luck be eternal?    Can you have copious amounts of good luck and never have to experience bad luck?

I cycle, often.  I put the world to rights on my bike rides.  I think about my children, my husband, our health, our family, our material possessions, our jobs.

Its all good.

But for how long? 

I chatted about this with Jurgen, when we were laughing, recently,  about the family court case.  We have ridden on the Hawaii 5 - 0 wave of luck for long enough...  but then we discuss our pasts and realise that we have both had enough bad luck for a lifetime and maybe it is our time for good luck and it will be endless...

I don't know how long we will ride this crest of  a wave. 

I think often that I am due for some crap to fall in my lap,  and then something good happens to me and I am confused all over again.

Do you make your own luck?  Are you destined for luck?

Bloody hell, it makes my head hurt.  But if you are riding that wave.  Continue.  Ride it like you are the best surfer this side of St Ives.  Ride it until it grabs you and spits you out with the surf.

It could be never ending.  It could be that it will last 3 minutes and then find someone else to pick up and spit out.

Its scary.  Its true.  But it's luck,  And no one know's how long your luck will last....

Nerves

I have been painstakingly looking for a holiday this week.  The bad weather is getting me down and it is imperative that I have sunshine in my life, therefore I need something to look forward to.

This is where I find EVERYTHING gets on my nerves.   This  year there are ten people in our party.  I appreciate that is quite a lot of people.  However, First Choice and Thomas Cook allow you to book for up to nine people and then if you have ten ,they go into meltdown, can't cope, won't cope mode and you have to phone them on a premium rate telephone number that costs three thousand pounds a minute.....really?   I don't want to phone them I just want to book free,  online.

 So, I have been browsing the cheaper holiday websites. 

Found a dirt cheap, brilliant, bargain of the century, shithole hotel deal.    Had a chat with everyone involved, got the thumbs up and went online to book.  I then browsed over the very much smaller print and realised that the flight price doesn't  include luggage...

Luggage....who the sodding hell goes on holiday without taking luggage?  That's an essential part of any holiday.  I mean, you need bikinis, flip flops, suncream, right?  So, I went back and added luggage and that was an extra 600 quid.  600 buggering quid!

 I will never understand this "stripping back the essentials to make things cheaper" policy.  It doesn't make any sense and if you then have to add these essentials back on to your holiday then you end up paying for them anyway.   Its utter madness.

 I 'spose if you are popping over to see family in Spain or something then you may not need to take luggage of sorts, but a family holiday with five children and you are going to cut costs by going with just the clothes on your back?   I just don't get it. 

How much more can they strip back on these flights?  You have to have a whip round whilst on the runway and all chip in a fiver for fuel...   or perhaps pay less if you are prepared to stand in the aisle for the entire flight.  I already don't pay extra for in flight meals because I refuse to pay 3 billions pounds for a tiny portion of Beef Stroganoff...  Shit the bed, what else can they strip back?

As I get older more and more shit gets on my nerves...

Cough medicine is a biggie.  Its shit.  Totally.  Has little or no effect on any sort of cough.  At all, EVER.   You are coughing your inner sanctum to the forefront and you glug down the "CORVONIA" and still continue to cough up your inner workings.   It makes me mad.  Why are they allowed to sell such shite that obviously never works?  I just don't get it.

Soaps on the telly.  The major award winners at any telly awards ceremony.  Who writes this shit?  Gangs and gangsters, death and murder, plane crashes and tram crashes.  Shit, if you moved any where near this death and destruction you would run, with your kids, crying to the hills.  Its absurd and unnecessary.   I find it's on in the background of my mad house whilst I pick the fluff from my belly button.  They are the most watched programmes in England.   That makes me laugh.

People who don't indicate at mini roundabouts.  Just do it.  Traffic would flow quicker and I would not feel the need to stove your effing head in with a shovel just because you didn't make the pretty orange light at the side of your motor flash.  Please, just indicate.

Taxi drivers and buses..  Think they own the road, don't  need to indicate and pull out when you are already facing on coming traffic because you have attempted to overtake them as they have been sitting there for near on half a week.   They get on my nerves.

Swearing.  I can swear like a trooper but always appreciate there is a time and a place.  I won't have my older children swear anywhere, ever in my presence and I don't like to hear it in general and I loathe it on the internet.  Its not "cool" and "hip" it tiresome and, in my opinion,  lacks intelligence.   But having said that I love the word SHIT so now hypocrisy is getting on my nerves....

People who do not say THANK YOU.  Its appalling.  Its quite shocking the amount of people who forget these words, even in the worse circumstances there is always a place for two words THANK YOU.    Bad manners are a massive turn off in my opinion.  If someone holds a door open say "thank you"   I think that there is no place in society for rudeness and bad manners.  It gets on my nerves.

I am not sure I can tolerate getting older because I am going to slowly go insane with everything that gets on my nerves.

Everything that gets on my nerves is starting to get on my nerves....

Confusion

I had a "pension" talk at work today.  The final salary pension is ending in April 2013 and so we need to make decisions about where we go with our pensions now.

Seriously, talks like this I usually glaze over in about three minutes flat. I genuinely struggle to keep awake and  I have the attention span of a fish. 

But, today,  I thought I really ought to care about this.   So,  I am going to listen AND take notes AND make some hard arse decisions based on fact and intelligent conversation.  

Well, shit me. 

Who invented this pension malarkey?  A bloke?  Because no woman would have made it that confusing and ridiculous. 

Here's the thing.  I'm not a financial genius, in fact I find it hard to count without using my fingers.  I want to pay my money in  each month until I reach 65.  I want my employer to add a huge amount until I reach 65 and then some kind soul pay it back into my bank account each month so I can continue to enjoy the lifestyle. 

Apparently this is not how it happens.  Some corporation takes all your wages and has a whale of time piss arsing about on the stock market and if they make mega bucks, woooohooooo, and if not, ooops sorry about that.   And lately the latter has happened.  Where's the fun in that for me?

So, after taking a load of notes that mainly consisted of hearts, flowers and noughts and crosses I eventually decided to pay more money investing in AVC's (  I can't even remember what that means).  It would go straight out of my wages, I wouldn't notice it and I would be slightly better off when I take my 25% lump sum. ( Please note, that by this stage the government may well have increased the retirement age to 307 so I will be far too knackered to enjoy said lump sum anyway.)

When I returned to the office my colleagues and I had a chat and they all totally messed up my train of thought and said that pensions probably still wouldn't be worth anything in 30 years anyway so what's the point of investing more?  Jeeeezuuuuussss.  Really?   I hadn't thought of that.  By this point I was sobbing, my head was throbbing and I was ready to retire right there and then. 

So, here's what I'm going to do.  The money I was going to pay into my AVC's, I'm going to start using for extra payments towards my mortgage.  This way it will be clear sooner, I will save tons (apparently) in interest and get more years to live out my days skipping through the countryside hand in hand with Jurgen.

Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?  And a pretty good one in my opinion.

Now, I just have to find out if my mortgage company will accept overpayments without penalising me.  Shit the bed?  Really?  Bloody hell, don't even get me started......

 

I  

Domestic

So, I purchased a new washing machine this week and it has the wash capacity of 11kg.  This amazes and excites me greatly.

It was delivered on Wednesday but due to Jurgens "busy" schedule he couldnt really install it until yesterday. 

The opening ceremony was incredibly successful.  You know the one, where you have to remove plastic covering, polystyrene, wood, a bit more plastic, strips of plastic "ribbon" that would cut your hand off at a moments notice, all the while the children and me are waiting in awe for the "final reveal".  This beauty of white metal and space ship buttons emerges.  It took our breath away.  And it definately took Jurgens breath away whilst he was trying to wedge it into the washing machine hole.

Its beautiful.  A real work of art.  I was more excited than I have ever been to do washing. 

And here it is.......




I will just let you catch your breath.....

The problem is I have suddenly realised how boring I have become.  What happened to me that I now find the look of a washing machine exciting?    I used to think I was cool but now I'm, dare I say it,  DOMESTICATED.  Shit, that hurts.  

It has taken over in all walks of my life.  I had to purchase a double oven due to the hugeness of my family and my inability to cook one meal in a reasonable timescale on a single oven.   This massively excited me.  This cooker, this image of gorgeousness took over my life.   I chose it with incredible care.  I read up on it and the things it could do.  5 years ago I would have chosen the cheapest option in the shop even if it came with a warning that said it would burn all your food all the time.   But, now I care about the these things waaaaayyyyyy tooo much.

Jurgen is working today and I have telephoned him four times already to tell him the genius things my washing machine can do.   Four times.  He is not quite as excited as me but who cares?  He needs to know.  I now need to ring him again just to explain the machine is so quiet that I didn't think it was working.  That means that the spin won't rattle the very timbers of my house.  He is going to love me interupting his work day to explain this little tidbit...

We are off on holiday this week and I can practically do all the washing in one sitting as opposed to 25 mad, mental washes that cause me a great deal of stress.  Genius.  And.... the weather is beautiful so I am managing to get in dried outside... this information is almost orgasmic to me!!

My weekends used to be filled with hard core partying.  Proper weekends passing in a haze of music and dancing.  Now I look forward to nothing better on a Saturday night than browsing through a catalogue of domestic appliances...

What happened to me? 

I wouldn't change me for all the dishwashers in China....

Valentine

Following on from my lovey dovey posts of late its Valentine's Day this week.

I love Valentine's day.  Mainly because its also my wedding anniversary but because I love the whole romance of the occasion.  The cheap tat you can buy to express your undying love to your other half, the overpriced meals at all the local restaurants, the oversized cards stuffed with words of inane drivel that if said face to face would make you either  cringe or laugh your head off.

I love, love, love it.

When I  arranged my wedding to Jurgen,   I was speechless with excitement when the travel people said that February 14th was free and we could marry on this day.   Me, Jurgen , my mum, the children on an exotic beach on the most romantic day of the year...well, it was just meant to be.

I remember the couple getting married there the day before us and thinking, why?  Why would you have chosen the 13th when the 14th is Valentines day.  But then I guess they get to eat out on their anniversary relatively cheaply!

Jurgen and I always go out for dinner on our anniversary.  And I know that I am paying through the nose for a meal but  I love the sense of occasion, the romance and I love that this day is our special day celebrating when we made our family whole.

I know people have a problem with only being romantic on one day a year.  In my opinion this is overthinking a day that is now designed to boost the coffers of the card makers, florists, restaurants, hotels, etc etc.   Why make it complicated?  Jurgen buys me flowers regularly and makes tiny romantic gestures occasionally, as do I, but on Valentines Day I want the works.  I want flowers, chocolate, jewellery, dinner.  Because I am massively materialistic and because what girl doesn't love their partner buying them gifts?  Shallow? Yes, definitely.  Honest?  Absolutely.

But puke inducing words aside and like I have said before not everyone is so lucky.  I remember being single and being overwhelmed with Valentine's day shit and thinking another year of single, another year of no love.  But why does it have to be about couples?  When the very point behind Saint Valentine has long been forgotten and its now just a commercial dream.  Why not confess your undying love to yourself?  Daft?  Maybe....but what a brilliant idea.

Buy yourselves a big bunch of red roses.  Treat yourself to a takeaway, buy yourself the necklace you've always wanted or just treat yourself to a box of chocolates to eat whilst watching Eastenders...tell yourself that you love you and to hell with the world.  Because that's where it should start, with you loving you.

I am not getting any gifts this year, I have had my ring and my washing machine (romantic gift of the century)  but if I don't get the flowers and the chocolates then divorce is going to be on the cards....

So, this year when Thursday comes, I want everyone to love Valentines day.  Whether you are overwhelmed with gifts from your partner or not. 

Try telling yourself that you love you.  Because if no one else is going to this Valentines day then the very best person to make this declaration is you.   No one has to hear but you.  Try it.  Please. 

Eternity

Jurgen asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year and I asked if I could have an eternity ring.  He rolled his eyes and said in his rather monotone voice "If that's what you want..."   The reason he was not jumping up and down with glee is because this is the third eternity ring I have asked him to buy for me.

Three eternity rings.  Is this defeating the object of the very thing that they represent?  Is this making a mockery of their intentions?

This got me to thinking.

Eternity.....its a bloody long time isn't it?    Are you really prepared to say that you will stay with someone for all eternity?   It's a mind boggling concept when you think about it, and with broken marriages becoming more and more the "norm" as opposed to the exception, harder and harder to comprehend.

I married my first husband for all the right reasons, genuinely.  I thought I loved him, I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.  But, unfortunately, it soon became apparent to me that this wasn't going to be the case.   In the end I tolerated him.  It was easier to be married to him than to face the daunting task of going it alone, with two children, a mortgage , two jobs and not much else.  I knew that I wasn't going to be with him forever.  I knew it.  But I didn't know how I was going to get out of it.  But I also knew fate would help me.  I am a massive, firm believer in fate.  I just believe that your life is mapped out from the day you are born.  And I knew that fate would ensure that I wasn't with my first husband forever.   And, for reasons that don't need to be explained we separated and later divorced.  For the record,  when he died, we were best friends...

I then met Jurgen and as I have already told you countless times I knew that he was the other half of me.  Of that I have no doubt.  I know that I am going to die being married to Jurgen or at least being his widow.  I have never been as sure of anything in my life.  I know without a shadow of a doubt that he would never cheat on me, never hurt me and through experience he is always thinking about me and putting my needs first.  I never take this for granted, surprisingly. Sure, on a day to day level you overlook this but I am very aware that there are people who never get to experience true love.   

I truly believe that for every person in the world there is another who is the other half of you.  Some of us are very lucky to find that person and then there are those who spend their whole lives searching but never get to meet. 

Relationships are like trousers, you will have those that fit for a while and then you grow out of them so you try another pair.  Then, if you are lucky, you find the elasticated waist trackies that, no matter how much you grow or age they just fit.  Comfortable and well,  just right.

Jurgen has had his fair share of "tight trousers" that he has had to give to the charity shop.  He had never tried on his elasticated waist trackies before me and now he would never take them off and wishes he had bought  them first time around.   Fashion,  its got a lot to answer for...

So, back to the three eternity rings.  The first one I was desperate for Jurgen to buy for me on our first wedding anniversary.  We didn't have much money so he bought me one that to be fair made my finger, over time, go slightly green.  The second was gorgeous but only a half band and the fact that the diamonds sat towards the palm of my hand more and more frequently, constantly annoyed me and it just wasn't right.  So, my third and hopefully final one.  Its a full band diamond set, white gold beauty.  And it just can't spin round and sit backwards and annoy me.

It is my hugely materialistic side that wanted this third eternity ring.  However, if I had stayed with the first one and sat with a tarnished greenish band on my finger for the rest of my life, it wouldn't have really mattered.  No ring can ever display the "thing" that Jurgen and I are lucky to have. 

If you haven't been lucky enough to find your other half yet.  Don't ever give up.   Never.  Keep searching, always, forever.

Because there is no age limit on eternity...

Blues

So, after finally derailing the Christmas Express to Stressville we hit January 2013 with a bump.

January is a funny old month isn't it?   Every year its construed as a fresh start, the start of things to come, and has the shoulder of responsibility of how much luck you will have for the rest of the year.  If January is crap then the rest of the year is going to be crap also.

My January

I started the perfunctory January diet.  I now mainly eat cardboard and low fat cheese spread.  Lots of fruit, loads of water.  I treat myself to an alcoholic beverage every now and then, mainly Vodka and diet coke.  I am "in the zone".  I cannot continue to lug this weight around with me any longer.  My knees need relieving.

I have hit the bike riding big time.  I am the annoying twat out in all weathers... flashing lights, hi viz jacket.  I have cycled in sleeting rain where it has hit me in the face like pins being thrown.   I have slid across ice and slush all in the name of exercise.  I have shared the roads with joggers and other cyclists only to be left bereft and alone once the snow came.  But I have carried on throughout.  THAT is how hard core I am.  It is paying off however, as I have lost nine pounds in three weeks...

I have celebrated my sons 16th birthday even though I still feel 21.   I have also gone against every screaming instinct inside me and bought him a moped.  So he can become independent and stop hassling me for lifts...  I have to let him grow up.  I have to let him go....

We had issues with Jurgens work over the Christmas/ New Year period.  People not paying for works done.  It made me angry.  And inevitably caused slight discussions of the shouty nature between the two of us.  The problem is this:  I can't ring his clients and tell them to pay up otherwise I will rip their throat out.  Jurgen has to be diplomatic and calm and act like it isnt sending his wife into an early grave.  I have bills to pay, I am OCD about paying bills on time.   I have children to feed, if  we have done the work pay the bloody bill.  It is quite simple.  Anyway, the money owed has been paid and we are back on track.  Marriage can sometimes be testing and bloody hard work.  But after a rocky start we are out the other side.  (And I blame January for my marital woes.)


I have celebrated my own 38th Birthday.  I can't quite believe how I got here and why the time insists on flying by.  My weeks seem to pass in a blur of work, cooking, children, housework and Jurgen.   I worry about time flying by.  I remember only too well , anxiously waiting to be 18 so we could legally go into a pub and drink them dry.  Waiting to pass our driving tests so we could hit the roads.  Now we are on the slippery slope to the big 4 - 0.  I have mentioned before that my life has improved dramatically as I have gotten older, and this still remains the case,  but sometimes I think it goes too quick for me really to appreciate it.   Sometimes day to day life gets in the way of valuing what you have.   That makes me sad.

My one great feat of the new year is that for the whole of January I have not touched my overdraft.  I appreciate in times of economic crisis that people do what they can to survive and make ends meet but I am sick of bank charges.  I used to pay £2.00 a month for my overdraft.  When I was on maternity this increased to £10 due to the fact that I lived in it.  I guess I should be thankful that banking has been free for me for years and that this may not be the case as we progress into the future but why offer me an "authorised" overdraft  which then integrates into your lifestyle and five years later advise me your upping your overdraft charges to 3 billion pounds a day?   I even have a "zero" charges account.    But they charge me for the use of my overdraft.  There's something not quite right there...

So, the long and the short is that January 2013 has not been too bad for me.   That must mean that the rest of the year is going to be ok too? 

So, not so much of the January blues then.