An ode to the Spice Girls

For this weeks Writing Workshop, the lovely Josie wants us to tell her what we want, what we really really want. So I pondered if, in fact, what I wanted was indeed to “zig a zig, ah” and nope, turns out that no, that’s not it.

Yes, that was awful but I had to distract myself briefly before I starting writing this post, because what I do want is a family. That is all I have ever wanted, all I’ve ever dreamed about. I blogged along a similar vein here so I’m going to try and not overlap on that post and specify that the key part of my dream is being pregnant; carrying a baby inside me, giving birth, raising that child. In fact, watching One Born Every Minute each week on channel 4 has only made me more broody than before. I think I assumed it would bring home the reality to me, like it did for several people I follow on twitter who commented on never wanting children, and it did; it proved to me that the reality would be even more fulfilling, rewarding and magical than the dream.

For as long as I can remember there has been a hole in my life, not due to any traumatic experience or some deep seated parent problems, I’ve been through counselling and I know myself very well, I have resolved my issues, the hole is for my children. I am trying to think of a way to explain the emptiness and the longing that would convey to you just how it feels, but I think it that it is one of those things that only those who have felt it can really know. For me it is a physical pain in the pit of my stomach, it is tears and despair each month as another chance passes by, but worst of all is the unbearable jealousy that goes hand in hand with the happiness every time a friend announces her pregnancy. Several of my friends, and “friends”, have got pregnant or given birth recently and it’s taking its toll. Those who are good friends I am honestly over the moon for, I really am, and I feel terrible that it makes me feel so inadequate and jealous but I can’t help it. I would never express these feelings to them of course, and spending time with them and their child does make me smile, but then I come home and can’t help but feel that aching emptiness, amplified by the time spent with the cure. Those that I am not really close to, specifically one who only contacts me when they want something, I don’t feel that happiness for them, I feel pure, unadulterated envy, so much so that I can no longer even look at them. I feel terrible for thinking that they don’t deserve it, that I would be a better parent, that they could never care as much as I do, but nothing will shake that feeling. I don’t know whether that makes me a bad person, or a desperate one.

For now all I can do is keep my fingers crossed that it will happen, sooner rather than later, and ease the pain with babies laughter, children’s hugs and teenagers chats.

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Opening a window

There have been days in the past two weeks where I have opened my windows! This may not sound shocking to many of you, but I am neche (a colloquial word meaning I feel the cold/am a wuss when it comes to being chilly). I only open windows when it is sunny and warm and therefore it must be spring!

Finally the nights are getting lighter, the world is getting greener and my heating is getting lower. How I love spring! Pretty flowers about the place, lambs are appearing in the fields, birds are invading my garden and the sun is on it’s way.

It has been a long, cold, winter in every sense for me and I am so glad to see that spring is arriving. It always gives me hope for change, partly because of the changes happening in nature and partly because the extra sunshine buoys my mood. It is heartening to watch the seemingly dead trees come back to life, and the animals venture out after their hibernation. The whole world seems to come alive with noise, bustle and colour, which, after the quiet, dullness of winter is a very welcome and a massive contrast.

Soon I will be able to let Henrietta out in the garden every day to enjoy the grass and the weather and I’ll be able sit outside and watch her, armed with a cup of tea, while soaking up the rays. My washing will be blowing in the gentle breeze that will provide a welcome relief from the heat and there may even be a barbecue, although not while the washing is out of course! Friends will pop round for a glass of something cold in the garden, days out will become more common as we venture out on walks to various places of beauty, people will become more smiley and polite and, oddly, more trusting once the sun makes it’s appearance and all will be well with the world.

The onset of spring has also reminded me that, no matter what is going on in my life, the wheel of the year continues to turn, and thank the Goddess for that!

Happy belated Spring Equinox  folks! Blessed be.

This post was written for Josie’s Writing Workshop at Sleep is for the Weak. After much deliberation I chose prompt 1: Spring, mainly because I needed something cheerful to blog about! I hope it makes a nice change from the misery I’ve been spouting of late!

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Indecision

Firstly; I apologise profusely for this horrendous post but all manner of hell has broken loose here, more on excuses later though. So, I know it’s horrible to read, disjointed, contains poor grammar and no doubt a million other things that are truly terrible but I am making myself post, because if I miss a week that’ll be it! I am sorry and I will do better next week, promise!

I am incredible at being indecisive, and I’m really not kidding. Given the option between two identical things I will still deliberate, and I am about to prove just how indecisive I really am! I was looking over the prompts for this weeks Writing Workshop and couldn’t decide which to pick, so I’m going to do three of them; What excuses are you hiding behind at the moment, Tell me about a time that your body let you down and Tell us about something that you do really, really well. I think I’ve got the last one covered, so here we go…

I wont be offended if you stop reading now!

I am also the queen of excuses, something else I do very, very well! I’m one of those women who justifies her excess chocolate intake by saying it’s got milk in so it must be good for you, the same with cheese, and there are various excuses with all other unhealthy foods! I find it so easy to procrastinate I could write a book of tips on the subject; “I just need to finish writing/reading this post,” “I’m just chatting with someone on twitter and can’t tear myself away,” “Just let me finish this chapter,” you get the gist! Any excuse!

If you’re still going; I’m impressed!

And finally, at this very moment my body is letting me down; for over a week now I have been on a 1 “meal” a day “diet”, and by meal I mean soup and by “diet” I mean anything else gives me intense stomach pain and makes me sick. It’s not fun. So tonight, fed up of feeling hungry, exhausted, and having had 2 vials of blood stolen from me (by a very lovely nurse who managed to keep me calm the whole time, and that’s impressive!), I ordered a 9 inch Hawaiian Pizza. “What’s the worst that can happen?” I thought. Well, I ate it 2 hours ago now and for, oooh, 1 hour 45 mins have had intense pain across my abdomen, aches all across my back and sides and am now unable to sit up straight thanks to the pain. So far said pizza has not exited my body, but due to the pain I am wishing it would.
Essentially my body wont let me eat

Ok, the torture is over folks. If you made it all the way to end; my god and thank you! Again, my apologies.

This post was written for Josie’s Writing Workshop over at sleep is for the weak if you don’t already take part, please go read all the actually talented people’s posts over there!

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Fantasy trumps reality

It’s our wedding anniversary today  Two years ago we declared our love to the world and started our happy ever after, I remember it like it was yesterday, it was one of the happiest days of my life. We’re so lucky that so far it has been a happy ever after too, maybe we’re still in the honeymoon period? I can live with that! Anyway today I received the best anniversary present ever; two little blue lines. That’s right, we’re pregnant again! I told you, honeymoon period!

Little’un is one so the age gap will be just right for them to play together, and look after each other and help each other through school, etc. She’s been so good, I just hope the next one’s as as well behaved, no doubt this one will take after me though, I should prepare myself! Oh lord, I don’t think I can raise a little version of me, far too much rebellion! I’m hoping for a boy now, hubby would love a little progeny and I’d quite like an excuse to buy all those cute little boy clothes that other mums seem to overlook in favour of the pink stuff. I’m so excited!

In other news, my first book is being published in the next couple of months, soon I will be a well respected author! Well…an author! My name will be in a bookshop near you soon, keep a look out, but if you don’t enjoy it I’ll claim I’m using a pen name and that’s not really me! Look at me writing novels! I’m so proud, I never thought I’d ever even finish a book, let alone get published. I guess good things do come to those who wait.

The plan for the next couple of months is looking a bit hectic so it’s a good job hubby has managed to get some time off this week. Yay for romantic holidays! By that I of course mean anywhere that provides childcare facilities for at least 2 hours out of the day; it’s good for her to socialise! Nothing to do with mummy and daddy needing some alone time, all in the name of social development I tell you!

Life is so perfect right now; happily married to a wonderful man, growing family, great friends and neighbours. What more could you wish for? I’m so blessed, you might not think it, but I am. I’m not changing the world, or famous, or rich but I’m normal and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.

My mother will be glad to hear that this is not reality but a post written for Josie’s Writing Workshop from prompt 4: “Imagine there is another ‘you’ living in a parallel universe.”

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Now Demons, I know!

I’m like a magnet for demons, I draw them to me and then they stick. It takes consistent battle for me to keep any one of them at bay, let alone fight them all. At the moment my main battles are with insomnia and anxiety, the latter being an ongoing battle for the past two years.

Today I have an induction at Hope House, a charity shop that raises money to look after terminally ill children, it will be the first work of any kind I have done for two years, since having to leave a job because of panic attacks. It is voluntary so there is less pressure but it’s still a huge step. It seemed like a good idea at the time, it will get me out of the house, it will help me ease into work again, it will have me socialising, but now I am slowly being gripped by anxiety again. The last time I tried to get a job I couldn’t even do one full day, I spent the couple of hours I was there frozen to one spot, unable to speak and shaking uncontrollably and I have no idea if I’ve improved. There is every chance that I could walk in tomorrow and lose it all over again, and that terrifies me in a way that only those who have been there can understand.

I didn’t used to be like this. When I was younger I was bubbly, sociable, loved to party and spend time with people. I had a large group of varied friends who I enjoyed spending time with as often as possible, then the proverbial brown stuff hit the fan and since I have been a stranger to myself.

Don’t get me wrong when I’m at home I’m just like I’ve always been, you would never guess there was anything wrong, over the past year I have gradually managed to even plaster on an air of confidence again when I walk out of the door, but sadly a false smile and strut do not remove the churning in my stomach or stop the panicky voices in my head.

I think the worst thing isn’t even the anxiety itself, it’s the way I disappoint myself every day. I am not a weak person, far from it, I know that I can cope with life because I did it before and yet for some reason that knowledge does not translate to being able to kick anxiety’s butt. Every day I disappoint myself; when I have to make a phone call I find myself bargaining with myself, if you make the call you don’t have to go out today, if I go out it’s only to do shopping and it is over as quickly as I can possibly make it. That’s not me. I am forever yelling at myself to snap out of it, get a grip, pull yourself together and every other generic pep talk you can think of and yet none of it makes any difference. I used to be able to give myself a mental shake and I could get through all sorts and now I can barely live on my own.

It scares me that I know if I didn’t have to go out, I wouldn’t. If I didn’t make myself walk out of that door, I would stay in, all day, every day, with the doors locked and the phones unhooked. It scares me more that I have no control over that.

I’m not like that all the time, I have my good days where I go out and don’t walk as fast as I can around town, but it’s always there. I can go to new places with friends, sometimes, but I could never go alone, not even on a good day. And every part of me wishes that I could just drag myself, alone, onto a bus and go somewhere I’ve never been before to prove that I’m stronger than it. But I can’t, and that I can’t get my head around. I want to go, I believe I can do it and yet just the thought of it sends my heart racing and my mind spinning.

I know I’ll get over it, that’s not up for debate, I am just impatient now. I just want to get on with my life, but I know I can beat it, and I will.

Prompt number 2 at this weeks writing workshop was Demons, specifically those that you are battling right now.

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I’m living in the 50s

I was born into the wrong decade, I’ve been convinced of this for a while now but as I get older it gets worse! Before I get into this I’d like to add a disclaimer: no offence is intended, I am not a misogynist, I am just passionate and irritated!

I’m a big believer that a woman’s place is in the home, we’ve all seen the “How to be a good Wife” email from the 50s, I believe that. I have no problem with women that work, especially nowadays most women need to for financial reasons, but given the option I would stay home “playing house” and if I had to work it would be a “woman’s job”. I do not believe that it is possible to “have it all”, either home life or work will suffer and in my opinion it’s a woman’s duty to make the sacrifice. Women are, in most cases, better at housework, better at child rearing and better at all round emotional support and therefore designed for home-making. And do you know what? I am sick of defending that opinion!

(photo credit)

If I wanted to go to uni and get a degree to go out and get a high flying job, everyone would be behind me. I would have endless amounts of support for being independent and strong and making the most of what feminist’s have fought for for years, but when I tell people that I want to go out and find a husband so that I can marry and be a housewife, I’m a disgrace. Apparently by making a choice that goes against conventional opinion I am putting feminism back 50 years. Go figure!

Now I’m no expert, but I thought the suffragettes fought for women to have the right to choose? I was unaware that all the bra burning and such like was so that women had to work, had to be good at DIY and had to be a misandrist. So If I have the right to choose, why am I being told that wanting to live like a 50s housewife is wrong? Are modern women now threatened by real women? Do their slowly evolving balls ache slightly when they see what they gave up to have their powerful career?

If you want to have a career, great, I hope it fulfils you, I really do, but don’t come crying to me when you get symptoms of the menopause and suddenly realise that you want children. You made the choice, live with it. Don’t come running when no man will touch you because you’re so self-centred and career focussed that you don’t have time to cook him a nice dinner. And don’t tell me that I must be bored, lonely and unfulfilled being stuck in the house with just children for company. Stop moaning about the sacrifices you had to make to be successful, men have been doing it for years; missing out on their children’s lives to forge a career. See, not just women who were forced into a box in the past, is it! It is not better to be a man, they do not have it easier, they have it different.

All I want is for when I respond to people telling them my dreams and ambitions is for them to nod and be supportive, as I am with theirs. You can live your life how you want but I will continue to hold my traditional beliefs and I should not be judged for it. When I choose to teach my daughters cooking and cleaning while my sons play football and rugby it is not for you to gossip and say how sexist I am, I am not sexist. I revel in the differences between men and women, I believe they should be embraced and celebrated, that is not sexism. When I choose to welcome you to the neighbourhood with a basket of home made muffins, Bree Van DeKamp style, it is not for you to assume that I have been forced into that way of life by a man. And when I choose to put my husband above myself it is not for you to tell me that I am encouraging men to treat women as slaves and/or objects.

This is my life. These are my opinions, I do not ask you to agree but I do ask you to accept them.

When I am married I will be a 50′s housewife, and that is my choice.

(Photo credit)

This post is for the Writing Workshop I chose prompt number 3: Tell me about a side to yourself that makes you feel a little old fashioned.

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