Perfectly Happy Mum

Happy Anniversary... "I" didn't forget!

“Happy Anniversary darling” I say to Craig trying to look at him passed the children and teddy bears between us in our bed.

“Euh?!” He looks at me half asleep.

“Happy ANNIVERSARY! Shall I spell it for you? Do you remember four years ago? Apart for the big boozy party you were at, you also exchanged wows with me!”

“What?! Oh My God did I forget?!”

“Well obviously you have…”

I am not sure whether to be mad at him or not. Actually to be entirely fair I almost forgot too and if it wasn’t for the big note on the calendar that says “4th Anniversary!!!!!” I probably would have gone through the day without remembering either.

Is it bad do you think? Is it bad that I am not that worried about forgetting it? It doesn’t mean that I don’t care, of course not. I suppose Craig makes me feel special most days of the year so I really don’t feel I need to celebrate the special day we got married every year. It doesn’t mean not celebrating it at all.

I love my husband and although we have days when we barely even speak to each other because of all the distractions in our daily life, he is my soul mate and my companion for life. He is my shoulder to cry on and my sharer of big news. He is my coach, motivating me and praising me whenever I need a boost. He is the one I cuddle up to every evening and the reason I fall asleep peacefully every night.

So happy anniversary my darling, I love you bigger than this!

BUT YOU BETTER REMEMBER NEXT YEAR!! 

PR / Bloggers: love and hate relationship?

I have been blogging for nearly 2 years and in these 2 years I have seen the PR requests to bloggers increase greatly, along with the number of conversations covering the “PR/Bloggers relationship" Drama. 

I just wanted to add a little bit of my own opinion and as I say this is my personal opinion only:

Stop hitting the PR!

I am not a PR, but I do understand how difficult it must be to keep up with all the blogs being launched everyday. I am a blogger myself and I can’t keep up with it. Seriously, does it REALLY matter if a PR gets our name wrong? Or the number of children we have? Does it mean we should black list them and lapidate them in public because they have offended us?

I have just received a PR request and it says, I quote:

We’ve noticed on your blog you’re a mother of 3 (who have the most endearing nicknames!)

If you’ve been reading my blog you know that I only have two (thank God for that!) and I write using their real name, to give them some stuff to complain about when they are teenagers and we are discussing “how my mum ruined my WHOLE life”.

That made me laugh, I swear that this really doesn’t offend me, nor the fact that some of them ask me to talk about stuff I am not interested in and they would like me to do it for free. Sometimes I ignore them because I don’t have time for it. Some other times I say “thanks, but no thanks” and when one comes with a great freebie like a wireless printer or a Dyson, hell yeah I go for it! It works for them and it works for me.

I don’t always expect something in return for what I write and if something really appeals to me or if I feel I can in some ways contribute to spreading someone’s words, I will do it for free.

I do not intend to “cheapen” my blog and therefore I try and choose carefully what I do with it, but if some income comes out of it, I am happy.

I understand that it can be frustrating to be asked to do things for free or to read obvious signs that the PR didn't carefully try to find out who we are, but we are always able to correct them, say no or simply ask if in return we could have a sample.

I think that the best relationship Bloggers and PR can have should be based on honesty: they want something and so do we, the question is does it match?

A message directly aimed at PR: if you happen to run campaigns involving giving away an IPad, remember, I am being nice to you, so be nice to me in return...

Of course I still mean every single word I said previously regardless... 

I am not petrified...

No really, I am not worried at all…

It is only a 2 hour flight, it can’t be that bad. Of course they will behave. They are used to being alone with me… maybe not in a plane though…

Victor will probably be so taken by the amazing views through the plane window that he will forget that he has to be strapped to me because he is not two yet. I am sure he will understand that he can’t have his own seat because he is another three months away from the magic number, the one that will give him access to his OWN seat. But then flying will be more expensive of course.

There is a slight problem, there is only one window and I have promised it to Elliott already. I will just have to ignore the piercing screech in my ear when Victor wants to sit there and ONLY there. Do I need to apologise to the other passengers do you think? I really should, shouldn’t I? Or maybe I will just ignore them!

Why did I decide to take a flight on my own with a 3 year old and a nearly two years old. NEARLY makes all the difference!

What am I talking about anyway? It might be all perfectly ok. Let’s hope that Victor will happily take the harness this time, not like the last attempt. People really didn’t like looking at a child being dragged around. What was best? Discussing it? Try it with Victor! Or maybe leave him there? I thought about it, but it really doesn’t take much before you are branded a bad mum…

So maybe all I need is to order a few glasses of wine and let it all wash over me… after all I might not see these people again… 

If someone mentions "School Choice" again...

I will either cry or slap that person! IS THAT CLEAR?!

Now that we have gone past the conversations about breast or bottle, sitting unaided, saying “mama”, walking, POTTY TRAINING, we are on the subject of “Alphabet learning” and SCHOOLS!

Wherever I go I hear: “Have you chosen the school you would like him to go to?” “Have you put his name down?” “What are you going to do if you don’t get your first choice and get sent to the worst school of the area?!” Blah, blah, blaaaahhhh!

Here is the situation: Where we live the best school, the one everyone wants is Catholic. I am Catholic, so that works well. We would quite like him to go there then. Except that it doesn’t work like that. We need to attend Church regularly and that’s fine.

At first I have to confess that I was a bit put off by the whole process.

Anyway I am French and in France any religious school is private. It is a laic country and no public organisation is allowed to show any sign of religion at all. At best it is tolerated. So you don’t have to prove yourself and your faith by going to Church every Sunday and attend every Church events.

As long as they have space and you are Catholic, you are in. 

So anyway we are doing as we were told and we go to mass on Sunday as often as we can and we MAKE SURE we sign the register.

Here’s the dilemma: the more we go, the more I am having doubts about the place and about my own feelings regarding this school. Don’t ask me to tell you what it is, because I am unable to put my finger on it. I think it is a combination of the distance, having to drive most of the time, wasting time trying to park along with all the other parents at the SAME time, and in the same breath pollute the world a bit more. Or maybe it is because every time I go I am being told off by someone for chatting. Or maybe I don’t really want my son to come home and tell me that if something goes wrong “it is God’s will”…

I am all for having a spiritual side (after all I do) if it helps you through challenges and makes you do good things for others. However I want to teach my children that they are in charge of their life. If they don’t like something then THEY change it, God will help them I am sure, but at the end of the day only they can make the decision.

I would rather not get into this in depth right here because we will be here for a while. And we are talking about school not religion.

So now the rest of the dilemma…

We live in the catchment area of the school with THE BAD report!

The overall grade is 2, ie Good, with one grade 3 in the foundation because children are not left to spend enough time finding stuff by themselves. Now I don’t know you but there are worse things really. I mean, sure it is good to develop their independent side and I hope that they are making efforts to improve this, but it not like bringing guns at school or something similar. 

Anyway I visited the school and I liked it. Actually Elliott will be at their nursery next year for 5 half days a week and it is five minute walk from home. WALK, did you hear that? Heaven!

But that still wouldn’t be my first choice. If I listen to what my gut feeling is saying I would like the other school at the back of my house which is also 5 min in the other direction. That one is lodged into a park and is brand new purpose build. It is lovely. I can already picture myself walking to the school with Nala so she can also have a nice walk in the park after drop off…

I know it sounds like my decision is made. But NO it isn’t! I feel selfish for not wanting to make more of an effort to obtain a space at the much desired school. What if they don’t get a space because I make the wrong decision? What if they can’t get a good secondary school because of that and end up mixing with the wrong crowd. What if I RUIN their life for not making the RIGHT DECISION??!!

I feel so torn. Deep down I know that we can provide a good support to them and educate them culturally and challenge them to get them to think bigger and higher.

How much of an influence is the school if it isn’t for the people they are mixing with? Is it because an OFSTED report is just “good” compared to an “outstanding” that I shouldn’t consider putting that school as my first choice? Am I a selfish mother for wanting to cut the distance to the school?!

ARRRGGHHHH!!!! This is what I think!

Help me please… have you had to make a similar choice?

Having a "Facebook Crisis"

Facebook is in my opinion one of the best way to keep in touch with my friends and family and keep up with the changes happening in their life.

I have two Facebook accounts, one private and one blog/work related. Not that I love juggling between so many twitter accounts, facebook accounts or fan pages. No, it is just because I like keeping some stuff private and among the people who know me well.

My private Facebook account has 80ish friends. The reason for this is that these 80ish people are my friends or family. They are not all my closest friends but they are people I like very much and with whom I share experiences and memories. Some I have known for a while and some I have known for little time.

They all have one thing in common: I enjoy their company and it warms my heart to see that old school friends have gorgeous babies or cousins I haven’t seen for ages are well and happy. If it wasn’t for Facebook there are some friends or even family that I would have lost.

The reason I am having a crisis here, is because lately I have been contacted by people who I haven’t seen for years and the reason for that is because we fell out badly and I have no intention of welcoming them back so easily into my private life. I am not against burying the hatchet and starting all over again, actually I have done it with a couple of them and it feels good. However I am not going to allow people back in my life if they don’t even try and talk to me first, in order to help them boost their popularity. Adding me for the sake of being nosy and seeing my photos will not work.

The other thing that really upsets me is old friends who ignore any comment or message I write on their status or I send to their inbox. You obviously see so many comments going back and forth on your friends pages that without taking things personally, well you start taking it… personally! But that’s another matter and one that can be considered unreasonable…

But even with all this I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love the casual conversations I am able to have with dear friends everyday and I love seeing my nieces and nephew growing especially since my sister is so RUBBISH at emailing me photos!

So no I wouldn’t change Facebook but I might change my “acceptation process”…

I am not enjoying being a mummy today...

Well I haven’t enjoyed it one single bit this week and to be totally truthful my favourite time of the day, EVERY SINGLE DAY has been bedtime. Not the fight to get them into their pyjamas or coming back for the hundredth time to say “NO! no more milk!”. No, my favourite time of all was MY bedtime when I walk upstairs only to find them both snoring mouth wide open and not batting an eye lid…

I feel guilty for saying this but this week they have annoyed me, pulled my hair, broke my stuff, made a mess, tore pages of my magazine, had fights, huge ones!

They made towers of toilet rolls, then destroyed the toilet rolls, and refused to pick up the confettis.

They got us late out of the house everyday.

They refused to eat what I cooked for them everyday. Would it bother them that I stood in front of the hob for much longer than I would have liked to? Of course not!

Every little request has turned into a loud command.

I had to run after them to get them dressed, to put their shoes on or to strap them into the buggy.

They logged me out of my laptop god knows how many times and froze my applications as often.

They lost the remote control of the digital TV and now NOW WE ARE STUCK ON CBEEBIES!!!

Thank heaven it is the weekend!!!

OH CRAP!!! Next week is half term and our official “strictly potty training week”… Can I get drunk right now?! 

Why did my parents fight all the time?

When I was growing up my parents used to fight as bad as the neighbours next door and everytime they start fighting next door I can't help thinking of the 2 little boys growing up in that house. 

I remember the fights, the anxiety, the worry that they would hurt each other. I remember thinking "what is the point in being a couple and having children?" "what is the point of staying together in this sort of relationship...?" 

When I was about 12, I begged my mother to divorce my dad. I wanted them apart. I couldn't do what my sister was doing. She had that marvelous ability to switch off from the screams and the insults they were throwing at each other. She would pick her barbies and she would make up a world of love and fun with them. Most of the time I remember how she was trying to engage me into this world, but I was too worried and didn't want to miss a bit of the conversation. So I used to curl up on my bed and tried to listen as well as I could. Of course I heard things that children should never hear but I had to. Even now I am not sure why it was so important for me to hear the whole conversation. Maybe it was a way of being in control. Maybe it was a way of protecting them thinking that I could interfere if it ever became too bad... I am not sure... 

What I know is that I remember thinking "when I  grow up I want children, but I don't want a husband". So I used to dream that maybe I could marry someone like a long haul pilot. Yes that was my ideal man: the long travel, rarely there and probably the uniform... 

What I remember of my childhood was my mum crying regularly, always stressed and very short tempered with us. I used to hate how she would talk to us but I never stopped loving her. Now I know that was how she expressed her frustration. 

I had to grow up to understand why she never divorced and why she never did something to make it better. I used to think she was selfish for not wanting the best for us. Now I know she was doing what she thought was best for us. She wanted us to have our dad in our life but mostly she was petrified of not doing well enough for us on her own. 

Her relationship with my dad had completely knocked her confidence and her self esteem. and she believed she was nothing without a husband and a "proper married status". She was scared of being alone with 2 children. 

She divorced my dad after 28 years of marriage. She knew it would never get better or that they would never grow old together. I am not a person who dwells or regrets so my belief is that there was a reason for her to stay this long but I often wonder what it would have been like to grow up with parents who loved each other and who respected one another. And I also think of how much better her own life would have been if she had done something. 

I wish I could do something for the 2 little boys next door... 

If you are in abusive relationship, whether physical or psychological talk to someone, it can get better. You do not have to wait for years to get better. If you have children think about them too. Parents who stay together for the sake of their kids do more arm to themselves and the children than good. Don't feel guilty because you feel useless, you are not useless! If you feel like life is a black hole only YOU can find the torch to guide you to the light... 

A big old rant on rude people!!

Warning: this post contains some strong language of a very rude nature and portrays the main character (ME) with evident signs of hormonal imbalance.

It snowed last night. Yep all the pensioners in the area were right to stock up on mince pies. There was at least 1 inch on every surface. The problem with snow and minus 4C is that is turns into ice very quickly.

We had a birthday party to go to this morning and despite a very tough morning trying to contain 2 young children into one place without trashing anything for once, I still felt up for it. I also was really looking forward to catching up with a friend I hadn't seen since the last birthday party of her son.

So we got ready. And I had to repeat everything at least twice from "stop jumping on my bed" to "put your shoes on" And shout a little. Ok shout a lot.

When we finally reached the point of being ready to go, we were late. Nevermind, their new address was supposed to be located 8 min from our house so it wasn't too bad.

I started feeling a bit apprehensive when it was obvious that the ground wasn't gripping. The stress started to reach a certain level but still manageable.

We arrived at the area where their new house was located. All I could see was fields and horses on one side and lots of houses (absolutely gorgeous) on the other side. The street I was supposed to turn into wasn't showing any signs of existence. And all the signs available turned out to be covered in snow. I couldn't really stop and wipe the snow off of every boards.

At that point stress was reaching a higher level.

We went up and down a snowed and icy road a couple of times, so it was time to stop and check where we were on the map.

I wanted to turn into a side street away from the main road. I waited for the road to clear to take a right turn. A taxi was coming from the opposite direction, but as he was coming nearer he slowed down and waved as if he was chasing flies or telling me to go! I thought "what a lovely gesture". So off I went. That's when he accelerated and waved off far more obscenities than flies. I froze on the road. Let him go and apologised (for not understanding that when he slowed down and waved it wasn't to let me go!). At this point a very loud "YOU F****G W**KER" escaped. Yes it did and yes Elliott and Victor heard it...

Eventually I figured out where we were and decided to give it another go.

I had noticed the entrance of a private Club but thought it was some sort of exclusive club that's it. I didn't imagine that there could be houses in there. OK to some it might seem so "not up in the world" but I thought that entering this would lead me nowhere... except that it lead somewhere... It lead to a residential area full of huge detached houses with drives for 10 cars and all the rest.

Now just before I write the rest of the story I have to say that my friend who lives there is one the sweetest person I have met and so lovely that she has absolutely nothing NOTHING in common with her "up her own ass" neighbour!

Anyway I spotted her house finally, the balloons gave it away. By then we were about 45 min late. I went up and down the street wondering where the hell I was going to park since her drive was full. Anyway with the road covered and no signs around I supposed that along the road next to her house was fine. By that time anyway I would have dumped the car anywhere. I was so stressed because of the taxi, the ice on the road, the kids not happy to miss their lunch and nap, that I thought "You know what, it looks fine here and I am in no one's way, let's park just here".

It was time to free the children from the confided space of their seat. Elliott had been begging the whole journey so I was more than happy to get him out.

As I was chatting to him and undoing his straps I heard (please add the old condescending English accent for more effect):

Her: "Excuse me"

I stick my head out of the car, look around, did I dream that?

Her: "Yes, Yooouuu"

I look again and suddenly see her. She is the owner of the house just opposite where I parked the car.

Me: "Yes?"

Her: "You have no intention of parking here, have you?"

Me: "Isn't it OK?"

Her: "Off course NOT! This is private road dear and it is for resident only. Surely you have noticed the gate that says it is a priiivaaate road?! Haven't you dear?"

Oh you mean the 5 meter high, cast iron gate, ornate with the colour of the club, dated sometime around 1905 is where it says "PRIVATE"?! Will you stop giving me that condescending tone and "dear"ing me or I will totally loose it you F***ING - A*S -H*LE!!!

Me: "Euh yes I did, but there is so much snow everywhere, that I am confused as to where to park"

Her: "Well not here obviously... Oh and look at that! You parked on the front lawn! OH MY GOD you RUINED the lawn!"

At that stage I went from feeling mortified to wanting to get into the car and drive ON the lawn and even in circle, twice at least to make sure it RUINS the lawn properly!! And shout "by the way GET A BL**DY LIFE! Haven't you got anything else to do than play the Rottweiller of your PRIVATE road?! How about doing some crafty things with your friends at the Women's Institute to impress your visitors at Christmas? Or how about a course on how to communicate nicely and effectively?"

I have to say that I was in absolutely no mood or state to look for another space, so when I got Elliott back in the car and looked at Victor who was deeply asleep I made the decision to go home. The drive home was quite emotional. I couldn't understand why people can be so harsh in the way they speak or generally interact with others. I know I am very sensitive to the way people speak. Not so much the words but the tone of their voice or the look on their face. It really affects me when people are rude or harsh. Not always but at times.

Now I have to confess. Just in case you are reading this E, yes I lied to you on the text I sent you. I said the boys weren't well and that's why we didn't come to the party. I simply didn't want to admit to you and your guests that I was an emotional wreck and that the general conditions of today didn't improve my state. Most of all I didn't want to say hello and cry... so we went home but I promise to pay you a visit very soon to bring F's present and I promise not to park on your neighbour's lawn. I also promise to stay long enough to catchup on all the gossips I have missed in a year as well as meeting little A. a whole year after his birth! And by the way the new house is GORGEOUS!! Can't wait to see the inside! Hope the party went well lovely... Oh and by the way, I hope the neighbour is not someone like your mum or something like that...

Photo credit London Looks not the real neighbour but how I envision her following this morning events...

What are your favourite things?

We are officially in December and WOW, how did this happen??!!

I mean wasn't it yesterday that I was wondering how I was going to finish my pouches for the Christening in July?
Or if we were going to give the evil dummies to the Easter Bunny (which we didn't in the end)??
Or when we bumped into the Metropolitan Mum Family on the Ile de Re? Not just randomly sitting at the terrace of a cafe to discover from a far that they were at the same cafe. No! I mean going up and down the Marina spotting the place we'd prefer. Coming back to the first cafe we'd seen. Walking through the terrace holding approximately 100 tables, and deciding to go to the far right corner and sitting RIGHT NEXT to Metropolitan Mum! Now dude, I officially believe in syncronicity.

Time goes too quickly. Far too quickly.

I couldn't have a clearer memory of when we visited our house for the first time. What it looked like and what we loved about it. The plans we had for it.

Or finding out I was pregnant for the first time. And the second.

Or being told Craig's Uncle has passed away while we were on honeymoon, when he was full of life and having a great time at our wedding just a couple of weeks before.

Life is full of tricks. One minute you are here, the next you or your loved ones could be gone.

Is it worth dwelling on what is not right in our life? Spending too much time and energy worrying about the chocolate stains on the sofa that even wipes won't make disappear. Or that lovely drawing on the wall THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE!!!

Let's think of our favourite things today. Mine are :

• Watching the boys laugh and play together
• Cuddling the boys when they are tired. That special moment when they just abandon themself to me, their mummy and know that I am here to love and protect them. When they can feel this love pouring out of my body and filling theirs.
• Spending a special quiet moment with Craig at the end of a busy day, especially on a Saturday night.
• Being the 4 of us against the rest of the world.
• Dipping into a hot bath with a good book.
• Drinking my first coffee in the morning.
• Getting together with my girlfriends for a laugh or a cry.
• Spending one hour on the phone with my sister just to laugh at the most random things.
• Walking on a crisp sunny morning.
• Drinking an Eggnog Latte from Starbucks.
• Going on holiday.

So how about you? What are your favourite things?

Photo credit SnoShuu

My life with PMS...

I was reading back some of my latest posts and OH MY GOD do I complain...

If it is not about Elliott being a little cheeky terror it is about Victor who has been a rather loud toddler lately. Or this is about the lack of energy contained in my aching body.
 
It is about time for me to face the facts: every passing month, at a certain time of the month, generally around 2 weeks before THE time of the month I become a complete hormonal freak. I turn into the scary werewolf you do not want to cross...

A couple of weeks ago, the world was a big black hole and so deep I couldn't see any light. My mornings were made of coffees sprinkled with tears. My body was aching and every bit of me just wanted to hide in that hole not to be seen for weeks. I just wanted to be alone with no one around; just me, myself and my shadow. But how can you ever be alone when you have 2 little toddlers whose life revolves around you?

During these few days making breakfast was like running a marathon and getting dressed was attempting to climb the Everest just after the marathon.

I cried... I cried every morning for a few days and then I started crying the rest of the day for a few more days. I cried when the boys were trashing the house. I cried when I found Victor licking the toilet seat or when Elliott found my sewing box and started unraveling my threads.

I cried on the phone with my mum who kept telling me I had to see a doctor because "gosh, you sound like a depressed woman" is what she kept saying. She convinced me and I was started to think that maybe I needed help. Everything was tipping me over the edge and I was battling between highs and lows.
The toilet seat incident provoked floods of tears followed by loud laughter when, to cheer me up, Victor attempted to walk with a toilet roll balanced on top of his head bearing the cheekiest smile. 

And then after a few days it got better. The hole was becoming smaller and brighter and I could laugh again. My energy level raised and I was happy again.
Most important of all, I was enjoying the company of my children again.

So I reflected on the previous few days.

I remembered that a couple of months ago, when my mum visited us, we had planned a Spa day. I remember that day feeling like a miserable wreck. Actually feeling the same as that latest episode. 

And then last month I remember turning into an absolute freak because our bedroom "was always messy" and all I was asking was to have a tidy bedroom to retreat to after a long day and not an old socks cemetery...

That's when it hit me. The truth hit me. I am suffering from Premenstrual Syndrome... 

Anyone out there having it very badly and could recommend something? And does anyone know if evening primrose oil can be administered with a drip and the possibility to top it up in emergency, for example in the situation of a toilet seat licking event or when socks are left lying around the bedroom floor?!

If anyone has any advice, please share it...