P.S.

Having just written Yet Another One...., I do want to add that today was a good day.

We have been having an incredibly rough time at the moment.  My child is angry, I think with her father, but is directing this anger at me and as a single mum, there is no-one here to say, "it's ok, I'll take over".

It isn't spilling over into school, but I am in contact with her teacher, so that the school is aware of her home life.  The car took a beating with her frustration yesterday, while the day before it was aimed at me.  It leaves me wanting to cry, but I can't.  I have to breath, relax and count to ten, reminding myself that this too shall pass.  But sometimes I wonder what else I can do?

I want to scream at her father and tell him what an absolute arse he has been and that it is affecting his daughter.

Life is not perfect, I accept that, but I wish that it could just be a bit smoother for a while.

Yet another one.....

Last night I had to remember to turn the alarm off.

I have it set on repetition for school days, except that there was no school today.

Our lovely teachers are on strike with good reason, but it just means that it is yet another day off in what feels like a long line of them this term.  

Our school was closed for the wedding, for polling and for inset days, not to mention all the other bank holidays.  Have they had a full week of school this term?

Yesterday, I sat there wondering what I was going to do with my little girl.

Today, I feel like we didn't stop.

It was one thing after another, that started with buying new sandals for her.

Then came Sainsbury's, then a quick Starbucks.  It was quick because I forgot that I was supposed to be meeting someone a mile away to collect some keys.  Then came lunch, followed by me sitting down for 20 minutes.  A quick bike ride into the park where we met up with half the children from her school and made it home just in time, before the rains came (again).  Her bath was run and supper was started and now I'm sitting down, again.

But I promise I'll only sit down for a quick minute.

I am so looking forward to 8pm, when my time can begin and if I so choose, I can just simply sit on the couch doing nothing but watching the telly.

What will your evening bring?

Silent Sunday

Story telling - not a fan!

Every now and then my daughter comes home with various tales of incidents that have happened at school with various other children.  There are 2 such children that crop up all too often, A & B.  We have known A for a long time, before the girls even started nursery and B only for a year or so.  A is super tall, while B is shorter but carries a bit of excess weight.  Both are strong willed and more than a bit manipulative.  I have caught both girls out in lies on a few occasions.  Well today my child told me that A had been pulling her cardi and that A said that she was going to kill her.  Then she said that A was now going around telling everyone that it was the other way around.

In this situation, what do I do?  As a parent, do I just take note of this and be watchful?  Do I talk to my child's teacher again?  She had been bullied by girl B earlier in the year.   I was bullied a lot in secondary school and it is not something that I want my girl to go through.  I want her to grow up strong and confident in her ability to move through life.  Is today's stumbling block going to have an adverse affect on her in later years, hopefully not.

She is playing happily in her room with a friend.  Their little noises that are seeping through the cracked door are so sweet.  Long may it last.

Silent Sunday

Water by any other name......

Today is my friend's Hen day.  Yes she is having a hen day that starts with a light lunch before changing into our alter-egos and venturing down to the Doctor Who experience.

She has asked that we all go as a Doctor Who companion.....of which there are many.

Interestingly, the Doctor has a panchant for gorgeous red-heads.

So with that in mind, I decided that I would be the rather beautiful River Song, as played by Alex Kingston.  

Baring in mind that I do not have fantastically curly red hair, I spent Thursday morning traipsing through the slightly salubrious back-water roads of the not-so-posh bits of north London.

And Voila!!!!!!

No it is not ok

I'm not sixteen anymore.  

I had a date on Tuesday and I was mildly looking forward to it.

I shall refer to him as the 'Greek'.

I got back from my wonderful, sunny, relaxing holiday just over a week ago.  It was heaven to be able to sit on the beach and read all day long.  I felt good.

My mother and child also got back on the same day, but later.  So I went to pick them up from St. Pancreas.  I found parking on the far side of King's Cross and had to cut through that station to reach St. Pancreas.  En route, I was asked directions by the Greek.  I had a few minutes to spare, so we chatted in a slightly flirty way before I had to dash off.  He wanted to continue the conversation, so I took his business card, promising to contact him soon.

I found my mum and little girl, got home, everyone tucked up in bed and then I sent a quick email to the Greek, saying hi.  This had potential and possibilities, so I took a chance.

I got a very full on response back, which should have been my first clue.

I was away, again, at the weekend.  But the Greek was very enthusiastic and I received plenty of texts and phone calls. An abundance of contacts throughout the weekend.

Our date had been set for the Tuesday just gone and I on that morning, I got ready with a bit of intrepidation.  It had been a while since I had had a date with someone other than DC, so I dressed with care.

We were meeting in the Starbucks on England's Lane in Primrose Hill, which is a lovely, leafy part of north London and then going over to a Greek restaurant.  He was a few minutes late, but almost immediately, wanted to kiss me.  It felt a bit soon, actually more than a bit soon and the kiss wasn't that great.  He clearly was already enamoured.  We went to the restaurant, Lemonia in Primrose Hill, which by the way, had amazing food and I would definitely recommend it.  Thankfully we sat opposite each other.  At this point, I'm not sure that I could have handled sitting side by side.  To say that his table manners were slightly lacking is an understatement and this statement in itself, makes me sound like some posh, snooty north Londoner but it was as if he had never seen a knife or fork.

Now I am a self-confessed tactile person, but he was beyond that.  He asked me to have my hand on the table and to hold his.  He kept placing me in certain positions, sort of a control thing, but very needy.  To me, this was not the behaviour of a first date.  We barely knew each other.

After lunch, we walked part of the way up Primrose Hill to a large tree, where he sat down.  No sooner had a sat down too, then he literally leaped on me.  Rolling around on the grass with a man that I hard know and am not even sure that I am attracted to, is not my idea of a good date.  There was a distinct lack of 'gentleman-ness' about the whole thing.  I felt very uncomfortable with this much 'touchy-feely' so early on.  The situation didn't feel right.

I know there is a lot of detail here, but seriously, we are not teenagers anymore.  We do not really know each other yet and he didn't ask.  I kept saying slow down, there is no rush.  Maybe if I had said it in Greek, he might have got the message.  

Finally, I said I needed to get back to pick up my child and so we got into the car and he dropped me not far from home.  I did not want him to see where I lived.  He drove off and I started the walk home.

I came away from that date feeling more than a bit violated, with my sensibilities being completely ignored and feel guilty.  I couldn't stop crying.  I felt awful.  I had found myself thinking about DC and about the strength of my feelings for him which I still have, knowing that I have to move on.

I was not prepared for the way that date went and I am not ready for another one.  I am fairly sure that I will not see the Greek again.  But I was hopeful of the potential in meeting a nice man so randomly.

I do still believe that there is someone out there for me, who will treat me with respect but who will also induce the intensity of feelings that DC produced in me.

But for right now, I remain a tad reticent towards another date with anyone, while I regain some of my fragile composure.

Random observations from my trip

An older gentleman wearing a candy-floss pink polo shirt, very tanned, with white curly hair, moustache and a thin line of a goatee.

A younger man in his late twenties, slender frame, fairly tall, tanned and looks perpetually half asleep.

An older woman in a shapeless dress, has what my friend refers to as an 'unfortunate' face, that completely changes when she smiles.

A small child, a girl of about 3, wearing pink crocs, her curly brown hair tied into a pony tail. "Papa nein. Nein Papa!" reminding me of the little boy in The Third Man, shouting for his 'Papa'.