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Single-parenthood necessity – what does it invent?

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Sunday 28 July 2019

Now I am obviously biased, but I do think my three teens are growing up to be pretty incredible young people. This week, as I am out with a friend, enjoying fine beers and cocktails, and talking life, they suggest that this is not despite their single parent upbringing… but because of it! Can there really be advantages to this challenging life we lead? It’s certainly not the usual media message but as I mull it over it does start to make a sense, and I decide to do some research.

I have yet to unearth a recent, comprehensive study in this area, however there is an abundance of current writing that is now prepared to acknowledge advantages, alongside disadvantages of lone-parenting for children. Before I look at these, I can only stress that I am not going to pretend it isn’t an unbelievable tough path. Jenni Lee’s heartbreaking poem Secret’s of a single mum, contains verses I’ve certainly experienced and would love to share with my Ex and his family, if only I thought they would listen or care. However the poem also encapsulates the key to using your circumstances to your childrens’ advantage. Here’s the moment,

“When I feel like a failure, that I am just letting you down, that I wish I could do more for you, you snuggle up to me on the sofa, you make a cup of tea, you look at me and smile, you come up to me and tell me you love me. Those little things mean the world to me.…”

In short, children will help, if you communicate and ask for their support, and this in turn helps them to grow and develop as people. And it’s possibly in the single parent unit that we need to ask for their help a little more often than elsewhere.

So where are the potential benefits? Top of most lists comes that it teaches independence and responsibility. “Because single parents are already so busy, children should be encouraged to be like the member of a team …” argues one report. That is a definite strength our our family unit. As we all grow up, we play to each other’s strengths and work most successfully when we work as a team. This celebrates and develops strengths, confidence and self-esteem. And it has developed me as a team player too . Most importantly, I have learned and continue to learn, to listen ‘with my ears’!

Another suggested advantage, cited in several reports, is the good ‘role -modelling’ of issues like: problem solving, money management, and resilience. I know that I have been forced to learn so many new skills since taking on sole responsibility for the management of the household, and my children have seen me do it, often sharing the challenge. In consequence possibly they are more resourceful, less likely to think ‘I can’t do…’ and more likely to think instead ‘How will I learn to do …’ than others? One terrifying Ballet Class ordeal aside (and that’s another story!), they certainly don’t seem to be quitters and we have battled through some very tricky times together.

Different reports debate different gains and losses, but I don’t feel the need to read anymore because I think my research has already taught me an important lesson. Your family circumstances will undeniably shape you. The key, to making the most of this, is to see your particular situation as an opportunity, not as I have often done , a mountain to climb in trying to catch up with ‘more fortunate’ others. If necessity is indeed the mother of invention, then perhaps in the single parent household, embracing the tough challenges it presents can invent some very remarkable children. It feels like a very new outlook on life and it feels very exciting…

Spa Day!

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Thursday 25 July 2019

I do follow other single-mum bloggers; and they are often passionate about the need for we lone-parents to treat and take care of ourselves. I have always been sceptical, genuinely so challenged by keeping kids, wider family, work and my bank manager happy that I cannot face the thought of making time to think about my own well-being as well. But after a glorious day at the spa…I think they may have a point!

It’s the hottest day of the year, when records are set to break in distant corners of the South of England, as Spa Day dawns. Two of my teens are on a Youth Orchestra tour of Belgium and the third has gone to spend a day with his nana, so I am already childfree. There is however an added bonus. I have a lift and so, in what feels like the ultimate luxury, I am car-free too. As a result, my mood is already joyful as, unable to believe our weather-luck, four of us rendez-vous in the foyer, change into our swimwear and make a beeline for the outdoor pool(s) area.

It is utter bliss. We are a trusty quartet who have survived several years of work together, have run together, drunk together and failed hilariously in the work quiz together. So I know that the company will be great and it is. We share laughter, lunch and lots of lovely chilled white wine. But another stand out feature of today is the luxury. As I lower myself into the warm embrace of a bubbling jacuzzi, I feel the pain lift from my poor aching limbs, which carry the scars of overworking and overdriving in recent months. I feel pampered. I feel cared for. I feel at peace. Those bubbles seem to tell me that I do matter and I am worth it! And I realise that this is often the missing ingredient in my busy life. And it feels fantastic!

Now, wondrous as my day is, I cannot see myself finding the time or money to make a spa day a regular feature on the calendar. However, I do think making a bit of time for myself and my wellbeing probably is essential. So I re-read a great post on this topics from The Perfect Juggler, 7 types of Self Care that don’t cost a penny…. Actually, I find that I already do several of the suggestions, but here is my challenge. When life gets frantic, make sure that the first thing to fall by the wayside is not me and my time and my happiness. Now that sounds like a plan!

Tao of Glass and end of term

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Sunday 21 July 2019

On Thursday, I try to cast aside my end of term exhaustion and head out for the evening to see ‘Tao of Glass’ , a world premiere piece of theatre, produced by the Manchester International Festival. This one will divide opinion, but I find it a mesmerising performance; visually stunning, very emotive and gently humorous.

However the final 10-15 minutes feature our protagonist lying on a revolving stage, next to a Steinway recorder playing an original piece of Philip Glass music, recorded by Philip Glass himself. It is beautiful and very relaxing …a little too relaxing as it transpires. I nod off and have to be nudged back into wakefulness by my companion. Next morning, it is still only in this semi-awake state, I stumble through a half-Friday to reach the end of term.

And so the sun sets on another school year and a hectic few weeks at home. As I collapse into bed, I am feeling shattered, dizzy and very unwell. I don’t emerge again until today and I have little idea where the previous 40 hours have gone.

Teens welcome me back to the world, and fill me in on the missing day and a half. They’ve certainly made the most of it! The girls have lots of shopping bags, all three have been to the cinema and Prom-dress daughter informs me that she’s cancelled her violin lesson! Oh well, reassuring to know that I’ve reared three independent souls, who can survive the odd day without a fully-functioning parent in the house. Thank the lord for my mum, who will doubtless have ensured that no-one starved, and bring on the Summer holidays…

Cracking the code…

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Tuesday 16 July 2019

After a long day at work, there’s no rest for me. My eldest has a driving theory test and I have agreed to be her chauffeur. Upon reaching our location, we are greeted by a sign announcing that ‘Candidates may NOT park at the Centre’. And so it it that I drop her off and then park myself on a dodgy side street, where I try to get on with some work.

Up ahead, a group of youths are knocking on car windows and asking for money. The driver, two cars in front of me hands over some cash and they disappear. The street is quiet after that, nonetheless I decide to keep my window shut and it starts to get very stuffy. Feeling drowsy and struggling to concentrate on my task, I turn to the internet for diversion, and am woken up by Dr Emily Grossman’s article in the Guardian,

Putting Alan Turing on the £50 note is a triumph for British science – and for equality

Hip hip hooray! Back in the Autumn, when the Bank of England launched the public vote on this issue, Turing was my man! There’s the incredible contribution his mathematical brain made to the development of computing, which is mind blowing. And, of course, his legendary code-breaking at Bletchley Park,

“You needed exceptional talent, you needed genius at Bletchley and Turing’s was that genius.” ( Asa Briggs )

But with Turing, the human story is equally powerful. Under the Official Secrets Act, much of his work was to remain hidden for a long time, denying him deserved recognition. At the age of 39, he was convicted of ‘gross indecency’ due to a relationship with another man, a judgement that led to the removal of his security clearance. Despite his outstanding contribution to war time intelligence, he was barred from continuing with his cryptographic consultancy for the GCHQ. Far more shockingly, Turing also underwent ‘chemical castration’ treatment, to avoid imprisonment, and died 2 years later, an inquest ruled by suicide.

About 10 years ago, petitions began for his pardon. In 2014, the Queen granted a full pardon and by 2016 the “Alan Turing law” paved the way to retroactively pardon other men too.

We ask the HM Government to grant a pardon to Alan Turing for the conviction of “gross indecency” … Alan Turing was driven to a terrible despair and early death by the nation he’d done so much to save….A pardon can go some way to healing this damage. It may act as an apology to many of the other gay men, not as well-known as Alan Turing, who were subjected to these laws.

So one of the founding fathers of computing, an unsung hero of our war effort and a significant icon for equality. If, like me, you are a mathematician, its is a wonderful privilege to have lived this life seeing the world through the eyes of many of the greatest minds humankind has ever known. And this man is undoubtedly up there at the top, for his immense and lasting contribution to our modern society. I am overjoyed that he has won a place on our £50 note and, as I look closely, the image also features a short piece of binary code. Cocooned as I may be, within the confines of my clammy car, trying to decode this keeps me busy until my eldest emerges triumphant from her theory test…

I am done…

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Saturday 13 July 2019

I arrive home from my final concert of the season, pour myself a brandy, sink onto the sofa and realise that I am… done!

In the last month, my amazing eldest has: traversed the UK to attend Uni Open Days, coped with Y12 mocks, trekked the Lake District peaks with pack on her pack, camped with fellow DOE expeditioners, surviving on cuppa-soup and pasta, volunteered at a local care home and performed in several concerts. Nonetheless, this week, as others break up for Summer, she completes a week of work experience in a local hospital … and I have chauffered her there daily.

On top of this extra driving, I have survived another week at work. I have found the evening-energy to rehearse and practise. There’s been no time to run. I am low on sleep and nutrition and, I am ashamed to admit, getting through most days with anadin and alcohol.

Tonight was the concert. Usually this would bring my mood soaring right back up, but all the logistics and demands of recent weeks have taken their toll, and I am now just finished. I think it goes quite well, although it’s a very fast and jazzy piece and in places I am just hanging on for dear life. But there is no buzz and I feel a little flat. I admit that the engine has stalled on my ‘Smashing Single Parenthood’ machine this week and I am squarely in survival gear right now!

I have, in all the chaos, missed important hospital appointments for myself and Prom-dress Daughter. I feel frustrated and frazzled by endless driving and traffic lights and traffic jams and hear myself screaming unspeakable abuse at unsuspecting drivers. I feel dragged down by routines and cooking and washing and ironing and just all the dreary decisions and jobs that come about when you are the only adult in the household. I feel trapped and low and on the verge of tears.

I need to cheer up and, as if sent from heaven, I switch on the TV to Simon Pegg lighting up my screen! (I’ll confess, he is a bit of a hero of mine, Run Fat Boy Run, Hot Fuzz, Shaun of the Dead– comedy classics that I’ve watched many times) I’ve never heard of tonight’s film, ‘Man-Up‘. It is a totally ridiculous romcom but, as ever with ‘The Pegster’, the scenes just make me laugh out loud … and laughter always works for me. My gloom lifts like a glorious magical mist and I head to bed knowing that tomorrow is another day and a new opportunity to do things a bit better. I also wonder if Simon Pegg is single …

Go Girls!

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Saturday 6 July 2019

Small Boy and I have had the house to ourselves this week, but this weekend, both girls are back and we listen with great pride and awe to all that they have accomplished.

Last night, my eldest got back from her final Duke of Edinburgh Gold expedition. She has walked for miles and miles, she is low on sleep, she has more Compeed than flesh visible on her feet, her bones and muscles ache and cramp, one toe is horribly swollen and …..she is starving. She is craving comfort food and we feed her pizza and garlic bread which she devours ravenously. Then it’s iboprufen, hot water bottles and bed. She is visibly tearful with the pain, and that only makes me feel prouder because I can see what a tough ordeal it must have been. But tough or not, my girl has done it – she is bloomin’ amazing!

Prom-dress daughter bursts through the door this afternoon. She has returned from a week of work experience in an Architecture firm ‘down south’. She is buzzing, with tales of 3D software packages, architectural research, trips to ‘the site’, hard hats and full high vis …and above all the fact that, shy as she is, she has done this. Yes she has pressed that button, announced her arrival, introduced herself in the Open Plan Office, accepted offers to go out for lunch and even presented her final ‘house design’ to her supervisors. What an amazing experience and what a brilliant boost to Prom-dress daughter’s confidence. I am over the moon for her!

Small Boy has planned a basket ball tournament to celebrate their return, and I can tell that the girls are glad to be home because they actually agree. Basketball is so much more fun with four than two! My muscles ache now, but it’s mostly with laughter and only the occasional bruise – this is family play after all, not always fair, but fiercely aggressive. Small Boy’s team, inevitably, triumph but there are no losers here today. Today all my brilliant kids are clearly winners and it’s lovely to be a family of four again.

Road Trip!

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Friday 28 June – Sunday 30 June 2019

Oh my goodness- what a weekend! My brain is fried and I am almost too exhausted to speak, after a whirlwind of Open Days, concerts, shopping and ….driving!

Friday is Nottingham Open Day for my eldest and I. At home, Prom-dress daughter has slept at a friend’s house, and so we only have Small Boy to worry about. He has managed to lose his school bus pass this morning, but it’s his lucky day. I am far to preoccupied to launch into my usual ‘that bus pass cost me good money!’ tirade. We simply drop him off on the way and then hit the motorway.

Having been promised a heat wave, we have donned summer outfits and view the clouds and drizzle of Yorkshire, and then Nottinghamshire, with slight alarm from the windows of our trusty vehicle. And though dry, it is distinctly chilly as, upon arrival, car safely parked, we step out to explore the University campus. We really enjoy the day; mixing talks and tours with the chance to look at lots of accommodation. The promised sun does eventually make an appearance too, and the first leg of our trip draws to a close with a stroll back to the car, ice cream in hand.

We now set the SatNav for …Newcastle! As the marvellous machine recalculates our route, it’s time to check in with the rest of my teens. Small Boy has successfully made it to my mum’s house. A weary Prom-dress daughter, a little jaded from her night of prom-ing, has, impressively, managed to get herself to a College Induction Day, and a rehearsal in one piece and hopes to join the others shortly. It all sounds good, and with the navigation device promising a 2 hour and 45 minute trip to the North East we set off…

Over 4 hours, and much Friday night rush hour traffic later, we are driving past the Angel of the North and finally checking in at the Holiday Inn Express in Newcastle! It’s been a very long day and after sharing Pizza, nachos and a cheeky glass of Prosecco at the bar, it’s PJ and telly time, then sleep!

By 9:30 am, on a very sunny Saturday, we are sitting, triumphant in our summer outfits, in the Medicine talk at Newcastle Uni. By 1:30 pm, having done Bio Medial Sciences, Neuro-Science, Chemical Engineering and two hall of residence tours, we are ready to hit the road and head home.

Travel fatigue is now beginning to set in. My right ankle (old running injury) and right arm are pretty sore and my eldest sighs like an old lady as she casts her shoes off in the passenger seat. Nonetheless, our spirits are high, possibly veering on hysterical – we find everything amusing, from ‘no hard shoulder’ signs to the M62 Summit sign- as we head back to our corner of the North West.

We are home by 4pm, whereupon an anxious Prom-dress daughter, who is preparing for a week of work experience (at an architecture firm ‘down south’), announces that she has ‘no work clothes‘ in her wardrobe. My eldest also needs to stock up on provisions for her Duke of Edinburgh Gold expedition. And so it is that, after a quick cuppa and pressing a few buttons on the washing machine, we are off to the shops and eventually sit down, to a take-away curry, at about eight.

Next morning, it’s off to York Uni for my eldest, whilst Small Boy, Prom-dress daughter and I set out for the drive ‘down south’ to deliver our would-be architect to her dad. My arm and ankle are now strapped up to ease the pain. The bandages work well and our outward journey is a jolly one. We while away the motorway hours with ‘I Spy‘ , ‘Guess who‘ and much laughter. ‘Guess who‘ features lots of rappers from Small Boy and figures from Elizabethan England from Prom-dress daughter… I do struggle to get a turn!

The return journey is far less fun. Not only does Small Boy feel a little deflated to be travelling back without his lovely sister, but I am now very tired and find myself drifting off at the wheel. I do stop to revive myself, with coffee and fresh air, but it uses up time and we only just manage to collect my eldest from the train station as she returns from her third Open Day in an many days.

We dine on the dregs of left-over curry, and just have time to nip out to buy a new bus pass for Small Boy before my eldest and I race to a local city hall for her concert. My beautiful girl takes my breath away with some stunning solo playing and for a happy couple of hours I do relax and clear my brain of the logistical load it has carried for the last few days.

When we do arrive home, I gaze catatonically at the TV for less than an hour before turning in. Tomorrow is July and tomorrow is also Duke of Edinburgh Gold expedition, a concert for Small Boy, Prom-dress daughter’s first day at work experience, oh and a full day of work for me. Do you know what, tomorrow can just wait for a few hours…

Festival Time !

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Sunday 16 June 2019

This week I hear that The Cure are playing Glastonbury and it makes me smile because, back in 1986, when I hitch-hiked to Glastonbury, they were the headline act. Unfortunately on that occasion, I went for a ‘little lie down’ in my tent and managed to sleep through the entire set! I briefly contemplate pulling on my green wellies and heading South Westward in 2019 to see if I can actually hear them play this time… but I realise that the full-on-festival chapter of life has probably passed. The Buxton Festival, that’s more my scene these days! And it’s to Buxton I head today, for a concert where I have agreed to dep for an oboe-playing friend…

It’s my debut performance with the Buxton Musical Society, the friend I am depping for is a brilliant player, the only rehearsal before today’s concert is today’s rehearsal and … I am not the best with directions. Taking all of this into account, I set off ridiculously early and am calmly on the approach to Buxton when I hit local roadworks and grind to a complete halt. And so it is that instead of making an elegant and timely entrance I race in, flustered, windswept, my head pounding and …. spectacularly late.

The rehearsal is in full swing and I have completely missed one of the pieces. From this point on however, my stress levels are eased and soothed away, for this is the Buxton Music Society, who, I am to discover, are the loveliest of people. They are delightfully posh and I crash into the middle of much guffawing over an anecdote about ‘the young Simon Rattle‘ and someone called ‘Jonty‘. But as I stand there looking forlorn and a little frazzled, they divert their cultured and eloquent tones to making me feel like a VIP, rather than a hapless and hopeless time keeper. Calmed with hot tea and kind words, I am soon in my seat and ready to play. The orchestra sound superb, which means that, as I float my oboe notes into the mix, it’s easy to sound good too, and I am soon really enjoying myself.

As the rehearsal ends, talk turns to tea. My friend has told me that I will ‘be fed‘. Expecting a few sandwiches and a long wait in a cold church before the concert, I have loaded up my Kindle and put some work into the car boot. But, oh no, this is not the Buxton way! I am collected, with 3 other orchestra members and driven off to the home of a Musical Society member for an amazing home cooked meal and just outstanding hospitality. As I tuck into my second helping of crumble and custard, I notice that my headache has gone and that I am feeling relaxed, content and very well fed. It is certainly rare but very agreeable to feel this well looked after, and it clearly suits me! I chat enthusiastically about ‘triumph’ of our hosts’ fine fireplaces and share musical moment and musical acquaintances with my fellow orchestral colleagues. It is gloriously civilised and I love it!

The concert goes very well, with committed performances from the orchestra and choir, and the young violin soloist, in particular, is astounding. It’s after 11 when I finally arrive home. I may have missed The Cure back in 1986 but today, not missing all of my rehearsal and not missing any of the concert or my fabulous meal, seems like more than a fair exchange…

The beginner’s guide to…. Open Days!

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Saturday 15 June 2019

Today my eldest and I head South for a University Open Day. But it’s not any old ‘South’, it’s the city where the children were born and I lived for over 10 years. So I am confident, I am calm, I am pretty ad hoc with my planning … and I learn the error of my ways!

We are on the road by 6:30 am and soon cruising down the motorway. It’s a familiar route I’ve driven many times but, as there are several ‘Queue Likely’ warnings, I boldly decide to experiment with a slightly altered course. Not my wisest move, as it turns out. I miss several key junctions and, even with my eldest using her navigation skills to get us back on track, we probably lose half an hour. (It suddenly strikes me that all my kids are pretty impressive with a map. I fear that with my sense of direction it’s become one of life’s necessities!) Despite the detour delays, we make time for a coffee stop, turn the volume up loud on the radio and sing our way merrily down South … until we hit the traffic!

We are about 2 miles from our destination when we grind to a complete halt, and we are still sitting in the jam as the time for our first Talk comes, and goes. Several packed buses, speed past us, in their designated bus lane, mocking us with their ‘Main Campus’ destination signs. My eldest chooses this moment to remind me that there had been a ‘Park and Ride’ option. I now regret waiving aside the regular emails the University sent me, trusting instead to the claim that “I know this town”!

Still I do know my way around and remember a pretty handy place to park, when we eventually clear the traffic. And then we dive into the throngs and the cut and thrust of the modern University Open Day. Blimey, a lot has changed since I trundled around my Universities of choice, back in the 1980s! In my decade, it was a day off college, eating marmalade sandwiches on the train, meeting a student, having a quick tour of the lecture halls and accommodation before heading back home for tea. Absolutely no-one came with their parents! Today, the entire city centre is taken over by Open Day visitees and their attached families. Student guides, in brightly coloured T-shirts, congregate on every street corner, handing our maps and giving directions. There are traffic wardens, stopping the traffic to shepherd the crowds across the road, pop-up food stalls and drinks stations. It’s insane! It’s bewildering!

But, whilst I am a chaos of dis-organisation, frantically failing to make sense of a University map, made soggy and dog-eared by the torrential rain, my eldest has done her homework. She waves her phone expertly at student guides, to register us for a terrific schedule of pre-booked talks and lectures. We have an amazing tour of some Science labs, where lecturers, passionate about their subjects, actually blow out minds with their knowledge, brilliance and enthusiasm. Suddenly I know that this is the world for my girl. She has had the sense to prepare as well for the Open Day as she does for everything, and that why, despite a slightly delayed start, we get so much out of it and she will get so much out of a University Education. I feel super-proud to be her mum.

We sing our way back up the motorway and finally arrive home at 8 pm. I have had plenty of time to learn some lessons. Here they are, as my tips for other beginners to the Open Day carousel:

  1. Do book overnight accommodation if you can: our 14 hour day was a bit of a killer!
  2. Do have a look at the road map and plan your route in advance.
  3. Do read the emails the Unis send you and follow their advice on parking: I am first in the queue for any future Park and Rides on offer!
  4. Do think about what your child wants to get our of University life and book the tours and talks to match
  5. Definitely do look forward to some fun quality time with your brilliant child and enjoy every minute, including the road trip itself!

To Gothic Spires and Birthday Cake

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Saturday 8 June 2019

Woohoo, following a few false starts, with my tentative steps back into the dating world, I go out on a really great date!

We do theatre, we do roof-top drinks, we do food but above all we do laughter, at some points I am actually shaking with unstoppable laughter. My date is clever, easy to talk to and incredibly funny. He also does flowers, such a large bouquet in fact, that the waitress notices them and asks me the occasion. I nonchalantly fib that it’s my birthday and only blush slightly when, at the end of the meal, a large slice of birthday cake appears and the restaurant hears me serenaded with an Asian chorus of birthday song!

Fun-filled as the evening is, that’s where this liaison ends. For several reasons there is no romantic ending to relay. Nonetheless, it leaves a lasting impression because it reminds me of how much I love the company of an intelligent and cultured man who makes me smile and, more than that, makes me feel comfortable with being myself. Because I find that I am funny too, in fact I had forgotten how many great stories and anecdotes I have gathered over the years.

It’s fantastic being a mum and it brings me lots of happiness, but it’s terrific to just be yourself on occasion too, and to reminisce about your own childhood … with someone who was also alive back then! Some of my stories remind me of the amazing friends I have journeyed through life with … and I have not been in touch with some of them for ages. I think it’s time to reconnect and I do. I spend a very happy evening messaging some old pals, even finally embracing the 21st Century world of Apps to reach the more far-flung. It’s a joyful experience and the wonders of new technology suddenly make the world feel like a much smaller, funnier and more friend-filled place. Now that has to be a lasting and lovely legacy of a great night out. As for the Gothic Spires…well that’s a private joke….