Tag Archives: parenting

How to survive Christmas when it’s not ‘your turn’ with the kids

I like being a single parent.

I like that all the decisions are mine.

I like that we’re a solid little unit of 5.

I like that our family dynamic is so lovely an we all just fit.

I do not like sharing the kids time.

I especially do not like sharing the kids time over Christmas. There’s no two ways about it , it sucks. Hard. I wrote just here a letter to small girl on a Christmas without her. 

It’s bad enough that most of the big retailers Christmas ads are full of images of that perfect family unit , I even as a content single parent feel put out that I and the kids don’t have that it’s sold to us so intensely.

Some parents Christmas’ don’t look like that. It’s not mummy and daddy looking over the children rushing downstairs to see if Santa has been before tucking in a huge dinner all together with extended family gathered for extra cheer.For some parents Christmas comes with a gut wrenching incompleteness. Some years it’s simply not your turn.

I’ve done ‘not my turn ‘ with small girl a couple of years and though I won’t this year I thought maybe I could share how you can possibly ease the awfulness even just a tiny bit.

1) Don’t feel obliged to join other people

When people find out you’ll be alone at Christmas they’ll likely invite you to join theirs (nice humans will anyway!) If you know being in someone elses Christmas will make you feel worse though , don’t do it. It’s hard to know how you’ll feel if it’s your first time.People you are close to though I am sure if you change your mind and cannot stand sitting home alone later in the day will greet you over .
Also though

2) Don’t be a misery martyr

If you do want to take up a lovely invitation from friends and family don’t say no for daft reasons such as – they’re only asking out of politeness or that you feel that you’re betraying your children in some way if you dare crack a smile without them. You sat crying into the Quality Street will benefit no one if your wishing you’d have just gone to your friends rather than take up emotional self flagellation as your new hobby.

3) Have an early (or late) Christmas Day

So Santa is a tricky one if you don’t have the kids the actual day the big guy comes but I’ve found the elves are pretty open to an email explaining the situation . They’re usually good to drop a little gift off on an alternative day , nothing so huge as to upstage Mr Claus but just something to open.

Then get your Delia on ,do your turkey ,pop on a silly paper hat and have your Christmas! I’m a silver linings kind of a girl so I’ll just say if you have ‘your’ Christmas after the 25th – half price turkeys!

4 ) Remember it’s just one day

I know this is hard. Almost impossible hard. It’s THE day ,the one everyone has been banging on about for months . Tomorrow is a new one though , as is next week and you can fill the little people’s festive period with so much fun stuff. Pantos generally go in into the New Year , festive events like Winterwonderland too go on after Christmas day itself. 

5) Seek out #joinin on Twitter

Ok now this one has cheered me up out of my misery on a few festive occasions. Even on years all four children are around,once they’ve gone to bed on Christmas Day I can feel a little lonely. I’m someone who enjoys my own company all year round ,but I don’t know Christmas just seems to highlight my solo-ness. It’s probably the one time I lament the absence of another adult person on my sofa.

The amazing Sarah Millican began #joinin for anyone alone on Christmas who doesn’t want to be. She explains it better here , have a read. I can vouch for it as a perker upper though. I’ll be there on and off throughout the day as really I’m often surplus to requirements once presents are done and dinner is eaten!!! 

I’m @daydreamer_mum on Twitter so should you fancy slating annoying relatives , chatting about eating your own body weight in chocolate or dissecting the Christmas Doctor Who special (especially that one) or just fancy a chat over Christmas if you’re lonely tweet me . Social media has its low points but surely over Christmas we can make it a force for good.

 Nothing I can say can make Christmas without the kids any less shit. I so wish it could. Take very good care of yourself if it’s not your turn this year. Remember it’s just a few days and there’ll be a gang of cool kids on Twitter around for chat!!

Xxxxx


My Facebook page is here if you fancy

Rhyming with Wine

JakiJellz

Not Just the 3 of Us

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When 4 become 1…

You’re thinking of the Spice Girls now aren’t you?? ….yeah me too,  but this post is kid related not a 90s throwback. Although I might start giving them Spice-esque nicknames : Grumpy kid , Stroppy kid , gob almighty kid , perma-hungry kid ??Might catch on!! 

Anyway , I digress….(that’s going to be the title of my autobiography by the way)

When you have a whole tribe of kids and only 1 of you the all important one on one time can be tricky. Well when I say tricky , 1 into 4 simply does not go. It can be impossible.

Now the children are older it has become easier. I’m now able to do something with one child without everyone else wanting in! In fact these days they generally like being left alone to rot in front of a screen.

Recently there have been a few occasions though where indulging the individual children’s interests and passions has made me appreciate even more just how good it is to have those one on one times. 

My children all have very different interests. The one thing they have in common though is that when they love , they love hard. Much like their mother when they have a passion they are very enthusiastic about it!

This is how I found myself joining hundreds of people in a queue at 9 am in a Waterstones in Manchester. 

Eldest child has been into F1 since he could point and make zoomy noises on the TV whilst men in cars drove super fast (look I’m not the expert here!)

As with many things (Doctor Who , Hull City…) I got sucked in by my children’s enthusiasm and ended up being way more interested in it than I would have been. So I have found myself getting up at stupid o clock to watch races with him , I was happy to see Lewis Hamilton win the world title again and I do have a basic understanding of the rules (well except they seem to change every season!)

Anyway eager to please mum here saw Jenson Button was doing a book signing in Manchester so I told him about it. I’ve been to a few book events and signings here myself. Always very civilised affairs you buy your ticket, arrive 10 mins before the event and have a lovely time. 

This was different. I didn’t realise this was different until I had passed on the info and accepted his invitation to go with him (I’m a bit needy and they rarely want to hang out with me these days) 

This event though , involved queuing. 

Lots of queuing.

4 hours of queuing.

We were total amateurs though, the guy in front of us had travelled all the way from Northern Ireland and the man at the front of the queue had been camped outside all night! Our 15 min train ride and 4 HOURS OF QUEUING was pretty minor relatively speaking.

Despite the queuing. It really was a lovely thing to do together. I learnt a few things about my son that morning. Mainly that his F1 knowledge is almost encyclopaedic. Also though that he is a lovely ,polite , funny , chatty , confident young man (of course I knew this already but when you see your child chatting confidently with strangers with shared passions that’s quite a special insight into the kind of human he is and I just felt proud )

So the boy met one of his heroes , I know they say not to do that but Jenson was lovely and chatty and unrushed and just look at the boys face? He may be 17 but that is a look of joy … they’re rarer those moments as they get older , you’ve got to work harder for them. So what’s 4 hours between friends!!!



The Pramshed


JakiJellz



Not Just the 3 of Us



Rhyming with Wine

I haven’t forgotten and I certainly do not forgive

These days , so many years after I left the abusive relationship I do at times have to communicate with the man who abused me . 

When I first left this was a massive anxiety trigger for me.Just seeing his name in my e-mail inbox had me struggling to breath and my heart racing. The fight or flight reflex was still very much in place even though I was physically away from him. His name alone was still so closely linked with terror and the anticipation of something awful happening.

This is no longer the case.

I see his name in my e-mail. I roll my eyes. I maybe mutter “what does this twat want now ”  under my breath but there’s no fear there. There’s boredom at having to read his over friendly words as though I’m some old friend he’d lost contact with. There’s mild irritation in his choice of over familiar language and his appalling spelling. Nothing about it causes me panic anymore though.I can arrange him seeing the kids ,I can deal with emails .

One thing about having to communicate with him though ,now we’re so far down the line , is that he seems to have expected that I have forgotten what he did. That he can make attempts at humour or that he can project some kind of united front when he talks of ‘our’ kids or makes observations about the children as though he knows them oh so well. That he can add lol to the end of a sentence cos we’re old buddies now , never mind all that torturous abuse that was just bants mate come on lol with me!!

It seems to him that because I tolerate communication from time to time everything that has gone before is swept under the carpet. He acts as though we’re exes who had a bitter break up but so many years later it’s all healed and fine.

Well no.

He doesn’t get to rewrite history. He doesn’t get to edit and censor my experiences. I know he’s done this himself. I know he has a story he tells people about our relationship and why it ended as subsequent girlfriend’s have sought me out once they’ve split with him. He’s chosen a story for himself (you’ve probably heard it many of you – psycho ex stopping him seeing his kids???) He tells his story to friends and family and new in laws.

Don’t try and tell that story to me though. I was there.

I was there the first time he ever hit me (in an Odeon carpark , he hated the movie , it was American Beauty)

I was there the first time I lied about marks on my face (it was at work ,I said I’d fallen out of bed)

I was there when I was putting something heavy against the bedroom door so I could just please nap when I was exhausted and pregnant without him flying through the door in a rage at my laziness.

I was there when every special day , Christmas , kids birthdays , were spoilt by him having toddler tantrums because all the attention was away from him.

I was there through the really dark times.

The ones I won’t even write about because I won’t give them oxygen.

I remember every last one though.

Every last detail.

Every last word he said.

So you see never would I want to be pally with someone like that . I’m never going to engage in anecdotes about these amazing children with him. I’m not going to “lol” at his far from hilarious quips. 

Should he mistake my bare minimum communication for forgiveness then he is so very wrong . Remembering is my strength. It’s my reassurance that I did the right thing all those years ago and the only forgiveness I’m interested in showing to anyone in that situation is to the scared girl who packed up her kids and fled.



My Facebook page is here

Not Just the 3 of Us

           


#Blogtober17 – Day 6 – Flowers…….Daisychains like Diamonds

I struggled with today’s theme of flowers. I know nothing about flowers! I’m not a fan of flowers as gifts and I’m certainly not a gardener.

Then I remembered a moment . The one in the picture above. The day I taught small girl how to make a daisychain. 

We have spent a lot of time at the park small girl and I . As every parent knows the park is the best activity for a sunny (or indeed a cold/rainy/snowy) day . You can take a sandwich there and call it a picnic , they can run around till they’re exhausted and sometimes they even have ducks! Best of all they are free!!

We’ve had many a special moment at the park small girl and I. She teaches me her gym routines , she runs an exercise class to keep me fit,she puts on a dance show. I mean who wouldn’t want to hang out with this cool one 

Anyway , I digress as per! One day we’d sat on the park , eating our picnic chatting away and she started picking daisies and trying to ‘magic’ them into daisychains and getting frustrated it wouldn’t work. I offered to do the magic bit for her and put together her flowers into magical jewellery! She was astounded! She spent the day wearing her daisychains as though they were diamonds and I felt like I really was magic so happy did a tiny thing make her! 
It really is the little moments that count!!

 My Facebook page is here

#Blogtober17

A little bit in awe of teen girl , an instinctive feminist…

My teenage daughter , she won’t mind me saying , has previous for being a bit of a pain in the arse. I wrote this a while back about why , although it can be frustrating I don’t necessarily see it as being a solely bad thing.

I suffer great mum bias of course but as well as being kind and funny and beautiful and ridiculously cool in a way I certainly was not at 14 she just seems to ‘get it’. 

I would certainly label myself as feminist and maybe some of my preaching that I often feel is falling on deaf ears to all 4 of them is filtering down after all but she’s an instinctive feminist. I think I learnt feminism. I think I saw things happening in the world I didn’t like and then looked to people more knowledgeable than myself to ask questions to and to ask what I should be reading and what I could do as an individual to help.

Eldest girl though , she just seems to know it , she feels it . I’m in awe of that.

The other day we were walking back from the shop. Chatting about the new bank notes. She mentioned there hadn’t been as much as a fanfare about the new £10 note as there had been the £5. I , said ah that’ll be because there are no men on it! We then spoke about what a struggle it had been to get Jane Austen on the note. I told her about all the vile abuse and threats that campaigner Caroline Criado-Perez had received throughout the campaign to get a woman on the note. 
My daughter’s response came immediately.

 “Well you know why that is don’t you?”

“Because those men took offence to being excluded” I offered.

“Well yes , but especially excluded from being on money . Those kind of men who behave that way see money as power and certainly don’t want replacing by women.” 

This had never occurred to me . Yes I’d concluded that the men threatening to rape and kill Caroline Criado-Perez for daring to campaign for a female face to join the Queen on our currency were suffering from such fragile masculinity that they couldn’t stand to see men removed from on a bank note. To equate that with money and power being synonymous had passed me by. Not her though.

Her feminism gives me hope. 

Her feminism means she rolls her eyes when comment is passed about why she can’t dress more ‘like a girl’ (” I’m a girl , I’m wearing clothes I AM dressed like a girl”)

Her feminism means when the boys at primary school refused to pass to her on the football team as she was a girl her reaction was to win player of the match rather than have a row.

Her feminism means pulling up girls at school who are telling her friends they should be on one ridiculous diet or another. Telling them they’re spreading dangerous nonsense . I’m super proud she told me she did this whist munching on a chip butty but that’s just me.

Her feminism means pink and blue kinder eggs anger her , that nothing irritates her more than being told she’s ‘ too pretty ‘ to play rugby and should be looking after that face , that has rejected gender stereotyping from being a little , little girl.
Yes she likes the last word , yes she drives her brothers mad winding them up just for fun , yes she’s overly argumentative and yes she has a temper and can strop like a toddler at times. 

I’ve always thought and always said though that this girl can and will change the world one day. 

I think maybe she already is. 




Me, Being Mummy



Tammymum

When did you stop holding my hand?

On our walk to school last week small girl slipped her hand into mine as she was enthusiastically chattering about Masterchef and skipping along.

At that moment I realised that she’d stopped doing that. That what used to be an automatic response to put her hand out to hold mine had stopped.

I don’t know when it stopped, I don’t remember it happening but it had.

It made me a little sad to think that all these little habits of a younger girl were now lost , grown out of by an increasingly older girl . I can’t remember when she stopped asking for comics or when she stopped asking me to tuck her in ‘super super tight ‘ but she has. 

I wrote a while back about I’d miss all her little behaviours. It’s just here . Now one by one they’re disappearing.

On that same walk to school small girl told me in articulate , expressive detail all about how the Northern Lights were causing whales to beech themselves. I didn’t know anything about this (thank you Newsround for filling her little brain with so much knowledge) It really made me smile that she’d heard all about that and was interested and wanted to share it with me.

In the same way I’ve finally stopped whining , most of the time , about the teens growing up I think I need to the same here.

This little girl who is so interested in the world around her is developing interests and passions that the younger her wouldn’t have on the same way. I think I may have an eco warrior on my hands.

Her absolute passion for cookery means what was once rice crispy cakes has become her ability to make a roast dinner with the minimum of help from me. Her Yorkshire puddings are honestly the yummiest and put to shame her Yorkshire girl mums pathetic efforts.

Her insistence on plating up as a work of art leaves us all with teeny portions (she’s watched too many Michelin starred chefs programmes) 

It’s slightly concerning that rather than call out that dinner is on the table she shouts “service ” but we like quirky here!!

She’s begun to draw a lot , she’s always been creative but her art has brand new qualities to it . A little different to the cute little cat pictures she used to draw a few years ago.

Her book choice has changed , ever the bookworm I unfortunately can’t remember the last time Hugless Douglas got a read but we’ve been reading Little Women together of late , one of my all time favourites .

So I’ll not moan too much about my littlest girl growing into a lovely 9 year old. She’s taking me along with her on her new adventures and I couldn’t feel luckier about that 

Just hold my hand from time to time small girl….



My Facebook blog page is here

Bringing up Georgia

3 Little Buttons

Fab First born…as you turn 17

Dear J,
So you’re turning 17 and I’m not going to whinge at all that you are getting older. Simply because next year means you’ll be…oh I can’t even go there.

I think and hope you know I’m your biggest fan. So here’s 17 ways you rock at 17.

1) You’re meme king!

I like you send me funny meme’s throughout the day. Makes me feel like I’m oe of the cool kids ,even though I know I’m not.

2) You’re my Doctor Who buddy

The others may question why we watch certain episodes over and over. Not you , even better you can choose the perfect episode to suit the mood!

3) You rock dad jokes

Honestly,they are BAD!! That you find them hilarious though is endearing in itself so we’ll forgive you!

4) Our Sporting Bucket list!

I know I know….you’ve done Wembley with Hull City…hey J tell us that story again in case we missed it the first 678 times??

We’ve a few left though eh? Wimbledon, London Marathon , more Olympics??wait for me!!

5) You’ve lovely manners

Everyone comments on it ….

Actually I’m taking that one , brought up right you see!

6) You’re the best big brother ever

I know you think the dream would be to be an only child,but that’d have been such a waste. You’re great to them all (even S though she drives you nuts!)  You’re a fab role model – though you know that has to be kept up forever now right? Like me and Auntie La? No going off the rails!

7) Additionally you are small girl whisperer

No-one can talk her down from a tantrum like you. Teach me your ways….

8) When you love , you love hard

Harry Potter , snooker, The National Train Museum. Some may say obsessive. I say passionate.

9) You’re interested in the world around you

Not just physically around you either. You’ve an interest and compassion for suffering and people going through hardship and turmoil even if they’re on the other side of the world. Even if you don’t know them. You’ve empathy , a character trait many others could benefit from.

10) You’re a food weirdo (like me)

I still don’t get the lasagne thing. You love bolognaise ,yet won’t touch lasagne even without cheese sauce…which just makes it bolognaise in a different shape surely! Not that I can talk!

11) Your kids TV nostalgia is mine too!

Whatever DID happen to Milo ,Jake ,Bella and Fizz eh? 

Did the Rubberdubba’s EVER get a peaceful bath?

What the hell was The Shiny Show all about??

And yes ,the guy from Raven scared the life out of me too!

12) You’re easy bribed

Entertain small girl , go to the shops , most jobs are do able for the fee of a packet of fizzy fangs!!!

13) Watching you round others makes me proud

You’re chatty and friendly and warm and can usually find common ground with most people. This could turn out to be your most valuable life skill! I like how warm and caring you are with your friends and how you seem to just be a natural with people! I wasn’t when I was your age and really aren’t that much better now.

14) Your opinions give me hope

You’re open-minded , you’re tolerant and you actively want to change things for the better. As do your friends. When the world is an unstable as it is knowing you all are active in your plans to make a difference well it makes me despair that bit less.

15) You don’t think you’re too old or cool to play showtune karaoke with us.


FYI You will NEVER be too old or cool to play showtune karaoke!

16) You’re thoughtful

You have small girl and I’s PJs on the radiator after a rainy school run. You pick out movies or documentaries you think I might like. You take your brother to football matches if his mates arent going. It’s nice to see!

17) You make parenting easy.

Other than that wretched colic at the start ,which drove the pair of us into thinking I wasn’t cut out for this job. You’ve made being a mum pretty painless.

No drama , no trouble,no horrid teenagey strops or awful behaviour (don’t worry I know you’ve still a few teen years left yet and could turn at any minute, I’m not complacent I promise)

I say this often but that’s because it’s true. Being your mum is an absolute delight. I’ve no idea where it all went right with my haphazard parenting style and you being my guinea pig in the world of mum- hood,but it seems to have and I could not be prouder to have you call me mum.
PS….You sure you’re insistent on going AWAY to uni??? …

Love mum xxx 

<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />

<a href=”http://www.motherofteenagers.com&#8221; target=”_blank”><img src=”http://www.motherofteenagers.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Tweens-teens-beyonf-logo.png&#8221; alt=”Mother of Teenagers” /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />

         



Rhyming with Wine


The evolution of the Summer Holidays…

I’m noticing a marked change these summer holidays. I’ve barely seen the teens so far. They’ve all developed these weird social life things (must look at getting myself one of those) It’s gotten me to thinking about how the summer holidays have changed.

As a kid summer holidays are the Best.Thing.Ever!!!!!They last forever and you just get to hang out with your friends all day.

Going back to school was always weird though wasn’t it? Did anyone else used to get really nervous first day back to school because you’d not seen a lot of your class mates in so long??

As an adult pre kids , school hols? Whatevs ! Has no impact on my carefree life. I’m just going about my business going to work and such like. Spending my glorious days off mooching around the shops spending money on myself …. except what the hell??? Why are all the shops full of kids?? The little buggers are everywhere running feral round the shops touching everything. They’ve invaded Costa too?? With their sticky fingers and their snotty noses.When I have kids they’re going to be always perfectly turned out and impeccably behaved…. bloody school holidays!

With pre school children well summer holidays matter not one jot. 

Every single day is basically dealing with other people’s bodily fluids on no sleep. Days , weeks , months merge into one long  sleep deprived hallucination. The only reason you know it’s school holidays time is because you can’t go to soft play for a sit down and a crap cup of tea. It’s full of boisterous ‘big kids’ running around like total maniacs!

When you have primary school aged children the holidays are hard work.

Really , really hard work.

Small people expect to be entertained constantly. 

You use up all your good ideas the first week. You’ve done ,cinema , trampolines, fairs ,bowling already. You have to rely on your free stuff for week 2 . The park ,free museums and movie days. You very soon discover there’s no such thing as a free activity where kids are concerned. The park involves ice creams and that bloody bouncy castle ,museums mean souvenirs and even the brilliant movie day plan means snacks aplenty.

By the end of the holidays you are a shell of your former self. Your brain is frazzled by thinking of fun activities. You can see on social media that everyone else went to much more exciting places than the park to chuck stale bread to ducks . Yes you know you’re meant to feed them peas now Ms Concerned of Facebook. Thanks.

Then come the teen years. 

Where we are now.

I kid ye not my eldest texted me a list of dates he and his brother were available for ‘family stuff’ . What with holidays with grandparents , their dad getting married and the very important football fixtures it seems I have a few days beginning of September.
I mean on days when small girl is at daddy’s and it’s just the teens and I the lie ins are awesome! I mean I don’t actually sleep in ,the internal mum alarm clock sees to that. I can though lay on my bed and read undisturbed for an hour. Living the dream right? No one bugs me to go to the park or do painting or play trains anymore. They entertain themselves quite happily.

The downside of course being they’re not really into mums craft ideas or going out skipping. Activities tend to actually cost and contemplating selling a kidney to pay for a theme park become the norm.

I kinda miss them too ( don’t hate me I know some of you would walk over broken glass for an hours peace in the hols)

So yes summer holidays change , not necessarily for the worse or even the better ,just different.

It’ll change again next summer , we’ll be gearing up for the eldest going away to university…..but let’s not talk about that just yet… I’m not ready!!!

Naptime Natter


I’m resentful…and it’s strange

The man who abused me is getting married in a few weeks.

It’s provoking a few strange emotions in me.

Ordinarily these days I rarely think of him. He took up so much space in my mind for so long. I simply don’t allow him any more. Having to organise the summer holidays though and work things out with the children ‘The Wedding’ comes up a lot and I’ve had to communicate with him way more than I usually do. So hand in hand with that I have been feeling a little unsettled .

It would maybe be expected to maybe go through a train of thought of wondering why he could behave normally and decently with someone else. It’d maybe be expected for me to wonder what it was I did to make him behave that way.

I don’t though. 

Not one bit.

Mainly thanks to therapy and The Freedom Programme I know that there was nothing at all I did that caused him to behave that way.
Nothing.
That is all on him.
He chose to be abusive.

A secondary reason I’m not having those kind of thoughts though is because I don’t believe he has changed. To have changed would mean taking responsibility,seeking help to alter your behaviour. However he still gaslights my experiences by never ever having admitted how he behaved.

So with not believing he has changed ,that brings with it a sense of responsibility towards his wife to be. I wrote a note to her here detailing how futile I know it is for me to tell my story ,to attempt to warn her off.

I wish there was a way I could keep her safe but it’s frustrating as hell that there is nothing I can do.

Mainly though the strongest feeling I have in regards to this situation is a whole heap of resentment. 

I’ve spoken about how that relationship left me numb for a very long while. There are many negative feelings about what happened to me that I have dealt with and then tucked away , anger being the main one.

Resentment though that’s been niggling a while.

I’m resentful that he gets to get on with his life ,having the normal grown up relationships whilst I was left so broken only now almost a decade on can I even ever so gently begin to date.

I’m resentful that I still and probably always will carry mental scars and struggle in certain situations whilst he gets to carry on without a care in the world.

I’m resentful that my children are being dressed up and shown off at this wedding and he will take credit for what amazing people they are despite not being in their lives for years.
I know it sounds like the whining of a bitter ex ,and this post is a bit of a whinge fest I’ll grant you. 
I document every huge stride I take in recovering from abuse though that it only seems honest to cover the tricky times.
I’m not sat here rocking in a corner or conjuring up complex revenge plans. I’m too healed for that.
I truly hope the kids have a fun day and enjoy themselves.

I just had to write this though.

I needed to document my feelings because amidst the champagne and the smiles and the happy ever afters….

I see him.
I know.

I remember.

So does he.

We ❤ Wimbledon – but it turns us a bit nuts!!

We really look forward to Wimbledon in this house , a lot. Well the two boys and I do anyway. I think the girls just like that it signals close to school hols time and I put on snacks for big matches. 

There’s also , for me , the added bonus of Andy Murray. 

Now anyone who has ever followed me on social media or in fact ever spoken to me is probably a tiny bit aware of my utter adoration for the guy. The crush is all encompassing. So that adds to the excitement! 

So we do love Wimbledon,but here’s how it turns us into total oddballs!!

We get delusions of grandeur

We talk about going to Wimbledon ‘one day’. Probably to the final. In the royal box no doubt, hanging with the young royals. Maybe I’ll be married to Harry by then – he probably has a thing for fellow redheads ,older women and commoners ….see what I mean? Delusional!

Realistically we’d likely only get to go to Pauper’s Sunday or whatever they call it.

The cost of men’s final tickets for all 5 of us plus strawberries and cream and my Pimms bar bill,well I’d have to sell a kidney!

We think we rock at tennis

Our nice weather activity,as a family,is going off to play tennis on the local tennis courts. Now with 3 teenagers ANYTHING that everyone agrees to do without a fuss , especially outside I have to take as a win and encourage wholeheartedly.

The thing is we are enthusiastic but we’ve no skills. In fact that line could apply to most sports undertaken by the boys and I. We try our best at sporting activities,our heart is truly in it but we’ve limited skills. The girls are the sporty ones in our house.

So as you can imagine our tennis matches are very stop start. Rallys of more than 3 are huge achievements and hitting the ball on a first serve makes us believe we are up for Sports Personality of the Year.

Mum dresses even weirder

We all know my dress sense is one entitled “have you not bought clothes since 1998?” I can’t help it , I’ll never be cool and trendy. I’m ok with that. Tennis season though I step it up a notch. I LOVE tennis dresses! They’re so cute and so summery and probably 18 years ago pre-children they maybe suited me. Now? Not so much. Stretchy material is no great look for a woman in her mid 30’s (yes 37 is mid ,hush!) with 4 kids!

I also have a white pleated tennis skirt my sister gave me years back that I wear to play in. I mean business, I look a fool but who cares?? Possibly the kids but who’s asking them?!!

Tennis snacks become a thing

Football snacks are a big deal in this house. On a big game day all the big guns are brought out : Nachos , pizza , wings.

I tried dragging the same snacks out for the big Wimbledon matches but the kids though maybe tennis snacks should be a bit more refined (we are big on themed dinners in our house- I made a rod for my own back years ago with that one!)

So refined snackery it is! Tennis snacks became sandwiches minus crusts and cake . Basically afternoon tea accompanied by fake (obviously alcohol free) Pimms.

I contemplate tennis lessons

Ultimate female mid life crisis cliché isn’t it? The stuff of dodgy Mills and Boons stories…. frustrated woman takes tennis lessons and is seduced by hot young tennis instructor!! Ooo actually maybe I’m being too hasty in ruling it out.

The reason I don’t go through with my tennis lessons notions though is for a whole other reason. It’s because I cannot stand being rubbish at something. I get frustrated at not being able to pick up a skill instantly and I’m an awful bad loser.

It’d be McEnroe esque carnage!!!

So roll on summer.

We love Wimbledon.

I love my quirky family.

Come on Andy Murray *swoons*



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