Mad Student Mum

I'm going slightly maaaadddd

2010-07-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

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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

2010-07-03T09:49:00.000-07:00

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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...

2010-05-17T13:39:00.000-07:00

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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.

2010-03-04T01:52:00.001-08:00

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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......

2010-02-14T08:35:00.000-08:00

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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

2009-10-22T08:38:00.000-07:00

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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!

2009-09-07T11:50:00.000-07:00

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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....

Back to mummylization

2009-08-25T10:05:00.000-07:00

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Poof! The magic pixie of work experience, who taunted me maliciously with a taste of what my life might have been like if I'd chosen a high powered career over kids (or more accurately, my A-levels instead of having a fag in The Pit) has now renounced her gift, and I've found myself plonked back down in Domesticity land, without any bloody ruby slippers or even a scarecrow to keep me company.

Hmmm. Possibly a little fanciful.

Anyway, work experience is over, and I've got four weeks of full time mum space to fill before I return to Uni. Today we went to the beach (2 good mummy bonus points) saw my Nan and Uncle (4 good relative points) and then came home and listened to my kids fight with each other and scream in the back garden. After calling them back in repeatedly in an attempt to make them behave, I gave in and returned to normal: Hollering out the back door and threatening to remove toys, physical violence etc (minus 500 points) which, seemed to have exactly the same affect. Right now Alex is watching Cbeebies and IJ is having a wobbly in his bedroom because I've spent him to bed early due to his horribleness. I am losing the parenting battle. They've spotted the fatigue I'm suffering and have hit my weak spot: the two of them have ganged up on me.

And somewhere in my subconcious, a wee voice is whispering incredulously..."And you want another one?!"

Well, yes, I do. I can't explain why either. I love my children, especially when we don't have contact with the outside world so no one else can make judgements on me, them and my rubbish parenting ability. I just feel that I want another one. I see myself with three children. But on the other hand, I also see myself with a bmw one series...

Aaaargh - the boy is refusing to give in and go to bed...I may have to write more later, if I get time around the first book club meeting (Yes, the book club is happening!! Hurrah!!!) This is a terrible blog,..Don't read it!!

To be continued when I am slightly less insane...

2009-08-14T13:00:00.000-07:00

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Best feeling in the world: Alex and IJ being relatively pleased to see me and regaling me with stories of what they've done this week.
Favourite thing IJ has said since I've been back: "Mummy, I've got to tell you something....I've got a drink. It's water, and if you pull the lid up it all comes out"
Favourite thing Alex has said since I've been back: "Toes" >HE KNOWS A WHOLE NEW WORD!!!<

Grouch - Haven't even been offered a cup of tea yet, he's just gone to get dinner now ("Well, I just didn't think about it"), my house smells like feet, there is crap everywhere, if you open the cupboard under the stairs, prepare to be buried by the mountain of crap he's shoved in there to try and make the place look tidy...

Still, love him. At least he tried.

First week at Mother & Baby

2009-08-14T09:12:00.000-07:00

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Well, my first week at Mother & Baby and Pregnancy & Birth magazine is drawing to a close. It hasn’t been as busy as I would have hoped, admittedly, but it’s still an invaluable experience. I’m sat very close to the design desk, meaning I can peer over their shoulders and see how much better they are at it than me. (Much much better. I really do suck at design, and it’s such a talent, the work these folks do is amazing.)

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time looking for Minnie Driver’s hat, nappy bag and bib (A-list Baby Watch – steal her style) and trawling through parenting forums to find out what’s hot and what’s not in Mumland. I’ve also looked at a lot of absolutely beautiful maternity wear (suddenly it seems reasonable to me to spend £200 on a coat you would probably only need for three months) and enough pairs of beautiful shoes, all smelling deliciously of leather to make me kid myself I can wear proper ladies shoes without being in tears by lunchtime through sheer pain.

I’ve read a variety of opinions on the new breastfeeding doll, and I’m still not sure if I agree with the automatic reaction of “Gah – how odd” or “Well about bloody time, I’m sick of bottle feeding dolls”. I actually think my reaction “Blatantly the child will lose the necessary halter top in a week” was one of the most realistic. And I agree with a lot of mums who say their kids all pretended to breastfeed their dolls anyway, without a garish daisy top in sight. Having watched my two-year-old son pretend to express milk himself, I think it’s safe to say they’ll play with whatever they can get their hands on, and follow whatever example you set…So far no ill effects, although he does keep asking me when he’ll get his boobs.

Today, I get to see the kids for the first time in FIVE days! This is the longest I’ve ever been away from them, and I can’t wait. Ian did send me a photo of Alex in his pyjamas with a pair of his big brother’s pants over the top mid week, but it’s not the same as a toddler cuddle. At the moment, I’m enjoying daydreaming about a tearful reunion, where IJ will run across the train station shouting “Mummy” and Alex struggles to get out of his father’s arms to reach for me…

Naturally, they will both be asleep in the car when they come to pick me up, IJ will probably have wet himself and Alex will just want Daddy all weekend. Lesson no.3452 of being a mother – ‘Your kids will never miss you as much as you miss them’

Lesson no.1 of course is ‘Get used to being unappreciated. A lot.’

The London Bug

2009-07-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

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So this week, I've joined the commuter brigade, and trekked to London every day this week for work experience at Reveal. I was apprehensive, not being a celeb/fashion type person, but actually I've REALLY enjoyed myself. I've had the opportunity to do research, write small bits and pieces, and even get a couple of bylines in next week's issue! Plus I wrote the last three blogs on their website - www.revealblog.co.uk
This was a great opportunity, and the staff were all really friendly and approachable. In short I had a great time.

Being 'a girl from a village', London does really terrify me. Every time the train pulls into Waterloo I'm convinced that every person who pushes past me is going to make a grab for my bag - a symptom of my tragically suspicious mind. I'm a victim of the fear generating media. And the warnings from my Nan.

But, there is something about London, that, the more I visit, the more I grow to love it. I got excited every morning this week when we passed Clapham and I started to see recognisable landmarks. I was even more excited when I realised I could catch a glimpse of the top of the houses of parliament. (Which are now on my 'must visit' list).

I love that in London, people wear the most ridiculous clothing, that if someone strolled round Southampton wearing, they'd get laughed at - even if it was at the height of fashion (may be because of that - Southampton doesn't really do the height of fashion). I can count on one hand the amount of people I saw this week who looked like they really didn't give a shit what they looked like. And even the ones who might not have cared as much, merely added to the pallette, which to me, makes up the colours of London. It is the mix, the randomness, the variety, and the complete acceptance of these, that summarises my feelings about London.

It is also, the reason that I feel I stand out there like a sore thumb.

Yes, I've enjoyed this week (even if every time I ventured out the office, I gripped my bag and checked I had my phone at least fifty times) and in a way, it's whet my appetite for the career I could strive for next when I graduate.

But. IJ got ill on Wednesday. 70 miles away from him, I received a phone call telling me he needed collecting, as his temperature was high, and he had a bad cough. Oh, that'll be the symptoms of Swine Flu then. (I was researching Swine Flu for an article at the time, so may have been somewhat hypersensitive....) After a variety of phone calls, I arranged for my mum to collect him.

The guilt kicked in very swiftly. Should I have left the office, where I was working so bloody hard to make a good impression, to get back to my son? It wouldn't have made any difference, he would still have been ill. My presence wouldn't have reduced his temperature or eased his cough. In many ways, he was better with my Mum, who would indulge him in a way she never did with me when I was poorly as a child. (Note the bitterness and envy...)

Nevertheless, I was neglecting my parental duties. (Actually, let me qualify that = Ian didn't feel any guilt at not leaving work to get him. So I was neglecting my maternal duties.)

Ever since I embarked on this degree, I've dreamed about having a career in the city. I've visualised working three days a week on a parenting magazine, thinking if I wished it enough it would become reality. But I also know, and have known, that I would need to pay my dues in industry first: work full time (and then some), start at the bottom. And I knew it would be harder, what with my age (where did I leave my zimmer frame). I've questioned how viable it would be, with the boys. What was I willing to sacrifice more? My dreams of being a reporter? Or the quality time with my family?

This week was a test. I came back from a 13 hour day, to see my children asleep. To see Alex, and realised he'd grown, and was developing new ways of responding and communicating while I was gone. To see IJ, and notice how much his hair had grown. To barely notice my poor neglected husband, other than to demand tea.
This has made me evaluate what I'm prepared to sacrifice. And I'm not prepared to sacrifice seeing my family. The feeling of isolation and loneliness was one I hadn't felt since I was 19, single and trying to find solace in a pint glass. I felt seperated from my home, adrift, and unrequired. When I got home, I felt surplus. Home was no longer my home, it was a place to sleep and make my lunch for the next day.

No matter what a career can offer me, it can't offer me the feeling I had when Alex saw me today, and came over for a big cuddle. It can't offer me play-doh time with IJ or pyjama days with all my boys, watching films and eating cheese on toast. I don't need a byline. I do need my family.

I dream about working from home, fitting writing around raising my boys. The more I work in industry, the more unlikely this seems. So, my lesson for the week?

If you can't have what you want, want what you have.

I'm blessed and happy.

(Cheesy, but true. And long. I'm still very very tired!!!) xx

Decision made

2009-06-23T13:26:00.000-07:00

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I'm very excited. Finally, I have decided that rather than choosing the dissertation option for my third year, I'm going to complete a major project instead - This means that rather than a ten thousand word academic study, I'll be writing a series of three investigative articles. Now that I've made my mind up, and I know what I'm going to be writing about - I can't wait to get started!! I'm already scoping around for potential publications to market it to, and looking for articles I can keep for research purposes. The subjects I've chosen for my project fascinate me - On a broad note, I'm examing the "blame the parents" culture; wth focus on three specific areas of a person's development.

I find it fascinating how obsessed we are with parenting these days. For my parents' generation, and their parents before them, I get the impression that to them, it just came naturally. In a way, parenthood wasn't something you thought about, it was something you just did. But for most of today's parents, someone is telling them how to do it. All of a sudden, we have child psychologists, educational welfare officers, social services, Health Visitors, authors, journalists, and the nightmare of every parent everywhere: Supernanny and The House of Tiny Tearaways.

My Mum always looks vaguely bemused when I ask her what led them to make the choices they did when disciplining me and my sisters. I don't think she can really give me an answer, because it wasn't a processed choice - it was instinctive. This is something that I really envy them: They seem to have a confidence that they were right: end of. Part of me also wonders if this is another reason why I obeyed them: They were so confident, I never doubted them. My parents have made a lot of cock ups, don't get me wrong. But they were so strong in their conviction that they were doing the right thing, that I find it hard to question them on many many things.

With my boys, I think it is only a matter of time before they figure out that Mum's not sure. In fact, that Mum is pretty riddled with self doubt, and concern that she is going to get it all wrong. And once they do, well the box is well and truly opened isn't it?

But I think there are benefits to "the modern way". My Mum and Dad were always very closed books when we were growing up - Dad was more open, but I think for Mum, she had to keep a distance to ensure the strength of her role as chief disciplinarian (sp. sorry!). This had a big effect on our relationship - the shell she put up thirty odd years ago is as hard now as it was then, and my Mum is still the person I am most likely to lie to (Of course I've dusted Mum - As if I'd leave it a fortnight before dusting) in order to protect her interpretation of me. I want her to think that I'm everything she wanted me to be - even if that's not who I am. And that makes me really sad: I'd love to be myself around her, but the few times I've tried it, she is completely confused by it (and accuses me of showing off!). So even if I'm not as strong as my parents were, I'd like to think that I'm as open as they were closed. I want my children to know that I had a life before them, and that I am a human being, not just "Mum".

I'm FREEE!!!

2009-06-18T00:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's official. My last exam was yesterday (NCTJ Central Government - all kinds of stress) and other than work experience and starting work on my major project over the summer, I now have a lot of time to spend getting to know my children again.

It's the hardest thing I find about being a student mum, balancing study time and child time. I know I'm lucky: I get a lot more time with my children than some working mums, and even some of my other student mum friends get less time with their kids than I do. But it's so strange to be trying to understand the functions of all the EU bodies, and then return to discussing "In the night garden" with the boys (trying to find a moral message in their somewhere, so I don't feel so bad about using the electronic babysitter - normally "Look at naughty Iggle Piggle, why isn't he in bed?! I think his mummy will be VERY cross...")

I'm not under any illusions though - this summer is going to be much more work than my degree. Ian has been going through a very interesting stage where everyone is a "Coconut" which is acceptable around immediate family, but not quite so easy to explain to strangers on the street, and he hasn't lost his desire for wierd noises and screeching. He also talks at about 120 decibels, ALL the time. Then you've got Alex's new trick of every time anyone farts, he points at them and says "Poo".

But, the more I look at my children, the more I think, I need to enjoy this. All I want to do is enjoy my kids, and not be plagued by fears that people think my children are terribly behaved and that I'm obviously a terrible parent. (This feeling is not helped by the fact that I get IDed everywhere, and that when I say I'm married with two children, people assume I must have been a shotgun teenage bride. While I know not looking my age is a thing most people would be envious of, I'm a bit tired of not being taken seriously....) I'm hoping that a summer with them, really focussing on them, will give me an opportunity to just relax into it, to stop caring about what other people think, and even join IJ in designating people a fruit and nut alter ego.

But, seriously though...

2009-06-11T13:38:00.000-07:00

Scholl product development meeting:

Boss: "We need to make more money, fast. What part of a woman's body is she not paranoid enough about?"
Pleb: "Hmm...I dunno. The arse, boobs, tummy and thighs have already way been over done..."
Pleb #2: "What about ears? Can we do anything about ears?"
Pleb: "Aha!!! I have it!!! Heels!!!"

And thus, a crap product and advert is born. Dry cracked heel cream. For when your life is so vacuous you have nothing else to occupy your mind. Women: Resist the paranoia. Your heels are probably fine. And if they are dry and cracked, well, quite frankly, who gives a rats arse? I am, totally and utterly devastated to find that my mother has bought this product (I'm assuming it was reduced...as are 95% of my mother's purchases): A woman who hasn't worn makeup in 35 years is worried about how her heels look. AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!

The labour vs Tory spending cut row...Am I the only person who had totally assumed that we were going to see public spending cuts? It did just seem to be logical: recession = increase in taxes, fewer public services... But apparently, this is fascinating stuff, and also a complete election decider....not really though...

This is REALLY addictive...

2009-06-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

On the local news tonight, a young woman in Hamble (in fact, quite literally just round the corner from me) gave birth in the passenger seat of her car on the M3, just before the Hockley interchange. This is an amazing story, and to make things even worse for her, she's a first time mum, so it must have been terrifying. It's lovely to know that she and her little girl are doing well, and now she can get down to the business of looking after her gorgeous new baby. Of course, it brought back the memories of Alex's surprise arrival into the world for me, and particularly the bizarre amount of media attention we received. I remember Ian's mum telling me we should call the press on the day he was born, and we laughed it off. Both of us didn't think it was that big a deal, but then of course we found ourselves in the echo a day or two later, and so it all began.
For me, giving birth solo (I'm sorry, but I just refuse to count a disbelieving husband, who had the nerve to be completely embarrassed at having to phone an ambulance while I was pushing a baby out into my tracksuit bottoms...) has just convinced me that home birth, and with as little medical intervention as possible, is the way forward. I hated being poked and prodded with IJ, and that was one of the things I was dreading most about being in labour with Alex, so when Simpson number 3 makes his/her appearance (cross your fingers for a girl please, not sure I can cope with any more blue...) I'll be rolling out the tarpaulin and filling up the birthpool...

(Disclaimer: No, I'm not pregnant. No, I won't be for at least the next 12 months. If I have any say in it.)

Other good news today: a new series of Celebrity Masterchef tonight. Hooray.

Oooh this is a bit wierd....

2009-06-09T13:14:00.000-07:00

Shall I pretend to be totally blase about my first ever blog or reveal my nerves and excitement?! Hmmm, blase it is I think....

Well, today I really felt like a Stay at Home Mum again for the first time in a long time. It's a very very odd sensation, to adapt from rushing round like a bluearsed fly to being able to actually look at my children and really see them (Have I ever mentioned how much I love Alex's feet? They are quite possibly the cutest things in the world!) Today, I got to read at least three stories to Ian Jacob, and play bricks with Alex, without worrying about what essay I should really be writing instead. It was a novel, and absolutely lovely, experience. I have no doubt that if I didn't know that they were off to nursery on Friday morning (while I get to enjoy discussing government with the legend that is David Kett: I think I love that man!), it would be much less enticing!

So much so has been my descent into SAHM land, I have completely missed every single news bulletin, haven't listened to Radio 4 all day, and have very little idea what's going on in the world. I did catch some of Jeremy Vine, but spent most of it singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". So, thieving off of someone else's blog (Sorry Sam), I will mention the egging of Griffin, a low life scum bag who personally makes me feel the same way sponges and spiders make me feel (for those less informed; revulsed, in the biggest way possible.) I congratulate the eggers, and empathise with them entirely. I don't think they interfered with his freedom of speech, but I do wonder if they played into his hands...Is Griffin now an egg martyr to those fools who voted for him? And oh goody, yet more press coverage for him. Ugh. Put Gordon Brown back on the telly (Now there's something I never thought I'd say...)

EEEEE!!! That was my first ever blog!!!! :D

Damn, and I nearly made it all the way to the end....