Stay at home, Mum

Since my last post, I have to say that my life did a little shimmy to the left with a kick in the crotch followed by Ta-Dah with jazz hands. In other words, while it hasn’t been all fun and games, sometimes it takes a jolt to reconfigure priorities and to get some perspective.

I left my job of 4 years, to be a full time mother for a while. I did try the part time thing for a bit after maternity but for one reason or another it didn’t work out. I have to say its weird, but it’s nice. I’m still getting used to it.

Of course focusing on the kids is a pleasure. It’s nice to feel like I’m actually doing something good. For years I’ve been dumping my son one place or another while I jump into the rat race for the day and then pick him up for scraps of time each evening. It was necessary at the time but life changes and I’ve changed. I don’t think I could have been happy then without work in my life, and now working was interrupting my life.

So what’s next? I can’t say that I will never work full time again, but if I do it will be on my terms for my families benefit, not on some bosses terms for their families benefit.

Royal blood, A wizard and too much denim

Our blood is blue, Dumbledore is real and London has learnt nothing from Fashion Week. What a morning of revelations.

This morning while walking the lad to school he declared that our blood was not red but blue. Excellent! I’ll inform Her Majesty and we’ll do tea and catch up on family affairs.

“MOM!”

“Yes! What?” He looked peeved.

“You’re not listening!”

“Of course I am,” I said, “but I don’t think that’s entirely acurate. You see, I’ve seen my blood and it’s very red. Not blue at all. Not even leaning towards blue…”

“Yes but that’s because it’s been exposed to air.. no really.” My face must have been looking very skeptical.

“You see while the blood is in our bodies, it’s blue and when it’s exposed to oxygen it has a chemical reaction which causes it to turn red. It’s like rust.” he carefully explained.

What?

That sounds very… Plausible. I’m going to have to Google it.

I dropped Einstein at school and was at the station still pondering if there is any merit to this theory, and already composing an email to Mythbusters, when I ran slap bang into Dumbledore.

Oh for goodness sake I’m not insane (much). The man was Dumbledore! Long beard, twinkly eyes, kooky dress sense, walking around like he was entralled by everything. I’d know him anywhere. Plus – and here’s the clincher – instead of grumbling, tuting, swearing or muttering like any sensible person who is not only about to embark on the challenge of the weekday morning tube, but also then has to deal with some scatterbrained woman plowing into them, the man simply helped me steady myself, and kindly told me that ‘when you rush around it’s inevitable you will miss things’.
Dumbledore!

Oh and the fashion thing? Just a word to the wise: should you ever feel the need to leave your house wearing denim from head to toe, including denim shoes and denim bow in the hair, you call work, explain you are having a breakdown, get that horric outfit off your body and get some additional, well deserved sleep.

Classified mission: authorised personnel only

It’s just occurred to me that listening to the Propellerheads version of a James Bond theme tune is a rocking way to go to work in London.

Marching with purpose to my theme tune this morning ensured that I remembered that I was on a very important mission. The fate of the world rests on my shoulders. (I need such a massage). Ready to break out my ninja-like moves at the first sign of trouble I contined to march with purpose. Speed, stealth and uncanny observation skills are at my disposal as I enter the most dangerous place on earth… The tube in rush hour.

I would need all my skills and training to get through this. Knowing that I am on ‘her Majesty’s secret service’ and my top secret mission cannot fail I go into stealth mode.

An evil mastermind must know I am here. The ‘screaming baby’ has been deployed! Nothing can make me break cover until I am ready. My exit strategy is already in place and my escape route planned.

Here we go. Precision timing is key. And go!

I dive through the enemy lines in spectcular style. Nothing can stop me as I race to make my connection and launch on to the next tube with millimetres to spare.

The end is in sight. I am seconds away from the rendevoux. The tube reaches it’s destination and I swiftly move up the staircase blasting all obstruction in my way. I duck into the building before the enemy spots me.

“Triple shot latte please”

“Would you like a pastry with that?”

“No, thanks.”

Mission complete. The world is safe once more.