Sister and brother...Boo 1 and 2

posted on: Tuesday, 30 March 2010

How can it be that two children who have come from the same parentage can be so very different?! My two children; one of each - a girl and a boy. In lots of ways they are the same - but their personalities are diametric opposites!

I find the whole process fascinating - how they develop and become people. I met my new nephew on Sunday and was struck how little correlation there is between that tiny little newborn and what he will become; a real thinking person. With my children, its hard to believe they were ever babies like that.

My observations:

My daughter

  • Oh-so-complex...there's a alot of female angst - even at the age of 8.
  • Needs a daily fix of reassurance.
  • Conducts an elaborate falling asleep regime every night. This consists of shouting out 'I can't get to sleep' and needing to tell everyone in the house.
  • Pretty as a painting; delicate and graceful. I think she is so beautiful it makes my heart ache.
  • Indecisive.
  • Worries about consequences.
  • Worries generally.
  • Astute, empathetic.
  • Funny, wry, sharp-minded.
  • Gymnastic-bouncing, willowy.
  • Loving.
My son
  • What you see is what you get.
  • Blonde curls - surfer boy.
  • Makes decisions, sticks with it, no deviation, no regrets.
  • Says he's not tired then falls asleep within 2 minutes flat.
  • Cuddly and gives cuddles, snuggly, warm.
  • No agenda; hidden or otherwise.
  • Comedy clown - has a knack for making people laugh and smile.
  • Passionate.
  • Football-kicking, rugby-ball-carrying.
  • Sturdy, strong.
  • Straight-forward.
Chalk and cheese?

And so, thank you so much for all of your comments and advice from my last post. Maybe the Universe is unaligned at the moment?

We had a pyjama day yesterday, the kids and I. First day of Easter holidays - pouring rain and wind outside. We lit the fire, lolled on the sofa and watched TV all day, had porridge and sprinkles for dinner, got an early night and now, I feel abit better :-)

Hiding one's light under a bushel...

posted on: Tuesday, 23 March 2010

I have a good friend at work. We are great friends but have always been in very different places in life. We are like Aesop's fable 'The Town Mouse and Country Mouse'. She is the town mouse and I am the country mouse.

She lives in London, was up until this year single, living the life, whooping it up, out all the time. I am the suburban married, living in the country, 2 kids, part time hours, out maybe once a month if I'm lucky.

Recently though, she has become my boss. Well actually she is now my boss's boss...

When she took the new role, she said that she wanted me to stop hiding my light under a bushel as she was now in a position to influence my 'career'. What a fantastic turn of phrase...I had to look it up; it means to conceal one's talents. You see there was once a time when I was a higher flier than I am now. This doesn't mean I was ever, ever going to be CEO or anything crazy like that, but I was pretty good at what I did, back in the day. Once I had the children, my priorities completely changed.

The point is: I suspect deep down I am happy that my light is under a bushel; that's right where I want it! Sometimes its easier to conceal talents than to have them on show, attracting attention. The more attention, the more demanding the I am laying low, doing my thing but doing it quietly. Because frankly hanging out with these two instead is much more fun...

Why I run...

posted on: Sunday, 21 March 2010

I am one of those people who has never, until recent years, exercised. I drifted along, lucky for me, with a physique where it didn't make much difference, I stayed slim and felt fairly well. All good.

Then a couple of years ago, we started going skiing as a family. Boo learned to ski, took to it very well and before I knew it, was zipping down the mountain ahead of me, aged 5. I could not keep up! I was breathless and sluggish. This was an epiphany for me; I realised I had to get fit in order to keep up with my kids.

So, despite the fact that everyone who knew me, knew I was not an exerciser, and there were a number of doubters, I took up running. I figured its free, its easy, its quick, anyone can do it. No gym membership needed, no special equipment. The first time I ran I felt like my lungs and my heart were competing for which organ was going to explode first.

But then, after a few times, it got easier. I found that ipod playlists and getting the right trainers helped, choosing some routes I liked. Now I run around the roads where I grew up and I re-trace the journeys I used to take on my bike when I was little.

I am a convert. There is a direct correlation between running and being happy. I have had some darker times in my life and I wish I had known how running would help. There is just something about it - it makes you feel....replete, contented, just good...

I have alot of friends (mainly school mums who are built to compete - why is that?) who think I should start running races, compete in my running. This just does not appeal to me. I don't run to compete, I run for me. For the feeling it gives me. Oh and by the way, it makes my body stronger, fitter and leaner. I think everyone should do it!

Dear Me...

posted on: Friday, 5 March 2010

Dear Me: A Letter to my sixteen year old self. I was given this book for Christmas...its taken me this long to get to it. Mental note: must make more time for relaxing reading.

I love the idea of it - the premise is that people, famous people, celebrities write to their younger selves offering advice with the benefit of hindsight. Oh how I wish I could go back and soothe my furrowed 16 year old brow.

This is what I would write:

Stop fretting about not being a pear-shaped 5'2" ordinary girl with a cleavage, like all of your friends. Being tall is good, clothes will always hang better. Having long legs is good, trust me. They last better than boobs. And I'm sorry to say, whilst on the topic, they will not grow any bigger; only for breastfeeding, which is a reality you don't want to even contemplate right now.

Try not to mess too much with your hair. Perms will never work well; if you were meant to have ringlets, God would have blessed you with some.

You will fall in love young so don't worry that you will be alone. When you get that off-the-cuff invite one Thursday night in the pub, your first term of University, do accept it, do not will lead to untold happiness.

Make more time for your Stepmother - one day she will be gone from your life and you'll always wish you had been kinder, nicer, less judgmental than you were.

You don't have to be a writer or a journalist or work in publishing to write for a living. There are many careers where you get paid to write stuff (amongst other things). Be more interested in business, its not a bad thing and its not dull. There are plenty of cool people who turn into captains of industry.

Invest in shoes and handbags.

When you get invited to that house party with those older that farmhouse outside of town - go along - one day that house will be yours, you will raise your kids in it (yes there will be kids!). Have a very close look...

By way of reassurance and to show that your beloved Mummy is always right - most of the stuff you will exhaust yourself worrying about won't ever, ever happen. I promise.

What would you write?
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