I'm going slightly maaaadddd

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I have a lot of things to blog about today. So brace yourselves.

1. Tomorrow is results day. (I think - there's been some dissention - it might be the 16th instead) I finally find out what the last four years have amounted to in academic stakes. It's touch and go - either a low first or a high 2:1. People keep telling me that either way it's a fantastic grade, especially when you consider I'm not your average student. The truth is though, I want that first. Last year it was totally do-able, I got firsts in all my units except one, if I remember correctly. But this year I got a bit lazy, a lot distracted, and stopped pushing myself quite so hard.
I could cut myself some slack. And look at my children and tell myself that I had a lot on this year. But actually that would be complete rubbish. If I had sorted myself out, and worked harder, I wouldn't be feeling quite so anxious now. I only have myself to blame, and there are no excuses. If I do get a 2:1, I will forever think I could have done better.
Or will I? I know I don't care as much about my GCSE grades now as I did then, nor my A-level results. I am prouder of my A-level results: Going back to education was a huge deal for me, and I'm proud of how much harder I worked at evening classes than I did at sixth form. It reminded me that I can do it, that I am relatively bright, and pretty academic.
So this degree... Parts of it were hard. But not as hard as I'd anticipated a degree being, to be fair. Only on a few occasions did I get confused by abstract thinking. I have learnt a lot - especially about politics. And I love the fact that I now understand the British political system and can talk about current affairs with some confidence. My writing is different - neater, sharper and cleaner (although I still love my commas and exclamation marks) and I know how to find sources, case studies and experts.
My degree's given me a job I can do from home - I won't get rich at it, but I enjoy it (most of the time) and feel like one day I will feel like a real freelance journo as opposed to someone playing at it.
- Slight aside - I sent off some more freelance work today, and wonder if I will ever send work away and not feel a bit sick about whether I've got it right or not?
My degree has given me some really great friends - people who I hope I will stay in touch with forever. It's also introduced me to some people who, if I ever see on an interview panel, will make me run screaming from the building.
It has changed me. It's nearly cost me my marriage (although the degree is not solely to blame for that one - we need to spend more time remembering who we are, aside from Mum and Dad, PC and Journo). It's made me review my choices, my expectations and my standards. It's made me feel middle class (horrifying) and a bit clever.
So, I guess whether it's a 2:1 or a first is a bit irrelevant really in the grand scheme of things. Hopefully in five years, I won't care.

On another topic entirely, here I am in full on Stay At Home Mum mode. So far, I can say I haven't settled into it too well. I've forgotten how to play, how much cleaning to do and I'm thinking I should make a star chart at some point. I miss the routine of uni - knowing where I was going to be, having a framework to build the week around. At the moment it's too easy to spend all day watching TV cos it keeps everybody quiet and entertained. (Although right now it's Deal or No Deal, GOD the people on this wind me up...)

Freelancing seems to be the worst of both worlds - I'm stressing about deadlines and having to conduct phone interviews while using my foot to gesture for silence to the kids. Plus trying to remember when husband is working a night shift or a late or a day... It feels pressured. I'm not proud to say that I'm fantasising about an office job just to get me out of the house on a regular basis, some adult conversation.

I'm pretty sure I was good at this two or three years ago. I was never going to win Mum of the Year, but I wasn't so tense, so aware of my mistakes. I relaxed into it. Days didn't feel wasted. I know that sounds shocking, but that is how I see it. I'm not working towards something for the first time in a long time, and I'm struggling with the change of pace.

I feel like I'm waiting, holding my breath and just hanging on... until IJ starts school. Until Alex starts playschool. Until we move. Or until I find a job.

Or maybe just until results day.

Birthday wishlist

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Dear Birthday Fairy,

Tomorrow is my birthday, as I'm sure you know. I have some modest requests, if you'd be so kind as to oblige.

1. I'd like to have a Saturday morning in bed (naturally the bed should have a white waffle duvet cover on it from John Lewis - I don't have one of these so you might need to pick one up) drinking lovely real coffee and eating something luxurious for brunch (made by someone else, natch) while watching Saturday Kitchen.

2. When I do get up and go downstairs, I'd like not to be greeted with the washing up from my luxurious brunch.

3. The day would then involve a lovely walk along a beach (which needs to be deserted please) with Murphy and my best friends. The scenery would be beautiful but I don't need blazing sunshine, quite content with anything not rainy. There would be lots of conversation.

4. Then back home for a lovely bubbly bath and get glammed up (more clothes from John Lewis) for a romantic dinner with my husband. Followed by some live entertainment - something sophisticated, like the theatre. My husband will not be snide AT ALL during this entertainment. At no point will he act like this is the most painful experience in existence.

5. Back home (to immaculate white waffle bed) and Ferrerro Rocher.

6. Day two of birthday weekend - City shopping trip with husband please, where he will give me full permission to buy beautiful things without wincing. He will endorse all my clothes choices, and at no point say "You have shoes like that at home." He will carry the heavier bags and my vanilla cappucino from Starbucks.

As you will see, my children don't feature here - Supernanny can drop them off, fully tamed and ready to be good for the rest of their lives, tantrum free, on the Monday, thanks.

Many Thanks in Advance.

P.S If you're speaking to Father Christmas, please tell him that I'm drafting my list for December and that he should prepare for a week where I can watch what I want on TV and eat peanut butter and banana on toast without interruption.

Hello. I'm the world's worst blogger...

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... because I never update the bloody thing.

In my defence, it's been a busy few weeks. The degree is winding down, and as usual I procrastinated and left everything to the last minute. Unfortunately this does seem to be what produces my best work. I wish I had started on actually writing my major project earlier though - I needed to think of it as real work, rather than a uni project and I never really got past that. It could have been so much better - ah well, live and learn.

So that's it - no more official lectures and only one more official uni hand in. I've already planned my FB status for after hand in (yes I really am that sad) - I've waited so long for this, worked so hard, and sacrificed so much. It's very very odd to think that it's nearly all over.

I know from my friends who did uni the first time round, that they all said they made friends for life. To be honest, I kind of assumed that because I was old(er) that that wouldn't be the case. But as the end becomes more and more nigh, I realise that nothing could be further than the truth. I've made some real, fantastic friends and I hope so much that we will stay in touch. It's incredibly patronising that I look at a lot of them and just can't wait to see where they end up. In their own ways, they are all incredibly talented people with so much to offer. I'm really looking forward to a reunion in ten years, already.

My degree has taught me so much. It has completely changed me, my politics, my patience levels and it has challenged so many things I thought I already knew about myself. I like the person I am a lot more now, after four years of learning.

I never thought that I would reach a point where I felt I was finished with learning. And to be honest, I don't doubt that one day I will want to go back to school - I love learning. But for now, I feel satisfied. In fact, I'd be happy not to pick up another text book again... but don't write off the idea of Caroline Simpson, MA just yet.

So where from here? Well, right now I'm planning on freelancing from home and getting back into mummy-mode. I know I keep banging on about it, but this is going to be a big step for me. I constantly live in a crisis of confidence when it comes to my parenting skills, and so I'm really scared at the idea of really embracing it. With IJ starting school this year, I'm going to be doing school runs (something which I have always loved the idea of, but I'm fairly sure I'm going to hate them) and having six hours a day at home with Alex. It's daunting, and I am scared.

I tell myself that this doesn't need to be a permanent decision. I can always go to work if I want to. But I think I'm more scared of the fact that I might want to go back to work - I want to love being a mum. I want to embrace it and relax into it, and really feel at ease with myself. I know that if I decide I want to go to work, I will feel like I've failed, and that I'm not good enough.

It makes me angry that I feel like this - Why should working be regarded as any kind of 'bad parenting' decision? In the abstract I don't feel like this at all - I think women should do exactly what is right for them and their families. I hate the idea of a SAHM vs WOHM battle (Apologies to any non-parenting forum users who have no idea what that means!), I think we should all be supporting each other in our freedom to choose.

But aside from my politics, I have to be true to myself and how I feel... and right now I'm feeling pretty scared.

A rant. Not particularly coherent, but I know what I mean.

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I know that I tend to bore my friends with my regular rants on the lack of feminism I see around me, on topics such as "Why does Katie Price's daughter need a designer handbag - she's two!" (Oh yes; I was criticising Ms Price's choices long before hair straighteners were involved). It's not so much that she had a handbag; my own son loves to carry my bag around with him, and my eldest had a bright pink purse he used to take "shopping" with him. No, it's the fact that it needed to be designer. I really don't want my kids to care about labels - Personally I prefer the "I likes it so I wears it" line of thought, finding designer stuff normally ridiculously overpriced. I also think that it insults my intelligence - I know that a designer bag will still hold the same stuff as my cheapy handbag. So why would I pay £300 more for it? It's totally illogical, captain.

Anyway, I have totally digressed. The item which has offended my delicate sensibilities this week is the new Facebook group: "If Cheryl Cole gets cheated on, then we have no hope" that a depressing number of my friends are joining.

The first reason I hate this group, is that it immediately insinuates that if you get cheated on, you are somehow responsible. That something you have or haven't done has led to your man finding his kicks elsewhere. Personally, I think if you find yourself in the horrific position of having had a bloke do the dirty, it's all his problem. To start going down the road of "What could I have done to stop it?" is an even bigger betrayal to yourself. He cheated, he made the choice, he's in the wrong. Not you.

The second reason I hate this group is that presumably the women who join it think that Cheryl Cole is better than them.

Most of them haven't met her. So can I assume that they are basing this judgement on themselves on the way she looks. So if Cheryl Cole had been even prettier, he wouldn't have cheated? Never mind her successful career, her independence, her intelligence. I'm not commenting on how much of these is true, just that they surely should factor when looking at Ashley Cole's life choices.

I have news ladies. Cheryl Cole was once accused of beating up a toilet attendant and racially abusing her. Somehow a combination of Simon Cowell and Girls Aloud have transformed her into the nation's sweetheart. I don't really care about her to be honest, I don't have anything against her, but I HATE that we keep putting women on a pedestal and assuming they are "better" than us because they have shinier hair or clearer skin or smaller bums or bigger boobs. This SHOULD NOT be the currency of life.

What do we want for our daughters? For them to be on a third rate formulaic national TV show and having their private lives splashed over the papers for all to see? Is this success?

Or do we want them to learn, to be a good friend, to care about people. To be intelligent, to be happy in their own skin?

Chesneeeeeeeeeeey......

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Chesney Hawkes played the Talking Heads on Friday, and I was there.

It has to be said, I was pretty young when "The One and Only" came out - but lets face it, you can't have been born in the 80s in the UK and have avoided that song. It is part of our generation's subconscious. As far as I'm concerned, it's part of my history, along with a longing for a snail Keyper which has never been sated.

So, anyway, Chesney. Well, like a fine wine, he has definitely improved with age. In fact it would be fair to say he's a bit of a cutie. This view was shared by every single girl who was queuing for the loo at the various points of the evening... You couldn't go for a pee without hearing phrases like "Oh my god, I saw him when I was twelve and he was just FAB!" - one dedicated fan had even bought her 1991 tour scarf with her for Chesney to sign. Which I think he did. There were a fair few confused looking blokes hovering around as well. In fact, Alana's mate was one of them. His facial expression didn't change throughout the whole set. Even when Alana and I screamed energetically along with most of the other women in the room "CALL ME! CALL ME BY MY NAME OH! CALL ME BY MY NUMBER!", he remained unmoved. Bless him.

I have to say that his new stuff didn't exactly thrill me to the core, although that could have been because the only thing keeping me awake was a tia maria and coke (chosen specifically for it's caffiene content). I've had another listen on Chesney's website, and yes, it's quite nice. I'm not rushing out to buy it from Amazon though. (AND it's £20.40!!! It was a tenner on the night, and that was signed!!!!) I feel that I should do really, because what I liked about Chesney's performance was how much he loved being up there. And it may be the tiredness speaking, but bless him, I felt quite emotional. He clearly loves writing and performing, and I felt really sorry for him that he has never been able to escape the shadow of "One and Only".

It was really depressing to see a group of girls singing it, in fact, when Chesney was singing one of his new songs. It made me quite cross. If we hadn't been in an incredibly scary pub, I may even have said something! (Although seeing how the doorman treated one troublemaker later that evening, I'm very glad I didn't.) Anyway, it struck me as really rude.

He came across as a very genuine and funny man. He was graceful in his acceptance that the majority of people only wanted to hear the classics, making wry jokes about his career nosedive (From number one, to number 16, to number 68 in three consecutive singles) and laughing about the small venue. Overall, a total sweetheart. If he had a group on Facebook, I'd be a fan.

Stupid Girls

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I'm feeling the strain at the moment, so this chance to blog about something unrelated to my complicated life is a blessed relief to be honest.

I heard Paris Hilton on the radio today, talking to Fearne Cotton about how her "airhead" image is a persona she gets into and plays on for her tvshows. According to Hilton, she is making fun of her own image.

Of course, I have to ask why someone would have that image in the first place?

This INFURIATES me! Why on earth, if she is that intelligent, would she feel the need to act stupid? Talk about kicking the feminist movement while it's down. I'm even seeing evidence of it in real life: girls who have real brains, who know their stuff and have valid, informed and relevant opinions, pretending to be interested in nothing but Jordan's newest perfume or a new pair of shoes. In fact, I've even seen one girl pretend she didn't know the answer to a question because of the people she was with! Why do people assume that being liked and being intelligent for women is mutually exclusive?

I feel a Pink moment coming on...

Speaking of feminist movements, I completely congratulate Anne Widdicombe for taking exception to David Cameron's plan to have female only candidate shortlists. It might seem like a good idea on the face of it, but it will only lead to questions of the successful candidate's actual ability. I agree with Widdicombe, that: “Women must get there on their own merits, and know that when they’re sitting in the House of Commons.”

Well said Anne - we don't need helping handouts from anyone thanks - we're far and away smart enough to get there on our own.

Busy day for the Simpsons!

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Today has been a very exciting day in the Simpson house.

First of all it was Ian's first day with the police. It's been a lot like living with the Tigger for the last two or three days, he's been so excited. Today doesn't seem to have disappointed either, so I'm really pleased for him. I'm also pleased for myself, that I don't have to have a countdown every day of how many days till he starts with the police...

Seriously, it's been a long time coming, and it's great to see him finally getting to do what he's always wanted.

Secondly, Pregnancy and Birth magazine emailed me and asked me to cover for a week - I can't believe it! I know they gave me great feedback and they'd been so positive, but I really wasn't sure on how well I'd done. (My confidence in myself just doesn't stretch that far!) To be offered actual, paid work with them is so exciting, and makes me feel very proud. So next week it's back into proper ladies shoes and making packed lunches. I can't wait!

Finally, I had to apply for IJ's school place today. I cannot believe my baby will be starting school next year. Also, I can't believe how stressed I became when filling in the form, in case he doesn't get our first choice of school. I've always been a bit scathing of the panic around school places, thinking more of a student's ability to achieve is based on their attitude and that of their parents. But now I'm actually quite worried....hmmm....

Also, Wogan's off! Good god! I'm quite sad about that, it has to be said....