A Humdrum Mum

This week has been a really odd one. The most awful thing was my cousin's funeral on Wednesday. She died aged 57 of cancer. Bloody unfair to her and her three daughters, all in their 20s, two of them with children, who also lost their dad a few years ago. Susan had just rekindled her relationship with her former husband and that in itself is unfair. It's all just wrong. January is a hellish month for us; of course Ben's birthday in the middle of it is a joy, but why did he have to be born three weeks after Christmas? No sooner have we got the decorations down, eaten three chocolate oranges a week and broken weak Dry January resolves than it's time to celebrate our son and heir's special day. Now it's the end of the month and I feel like my year can finally start. I know this happens every year, but I just forget! I need to put in my diary reminders for next year. "Lost your marbles?" on January 12th would help. "Find them now" on 1st February...

I realised last term that my stress point is leaving the morning to go to school and work. I work in school so being late is not an option. At all. I'm fine leaving for work, it's just Ben leaving for school that stresses me out. It's the "Mum, I need to take my footbal in today" comment five minutes before we leave. Or the "Where is your coat Ben?", "I don't know, I must've left it at school yesterday" etc.  We are not the most organised, but we are certainly not disorganised. Organised chaos mabe. My idea  was always to get ready the night before. School bag was in the right area, school clothes out, and shoes and coat should be in the right place because surely Ben would've put them there the night before? Whilst searching at T-2 minutes, it becomes apparently that he didn't put them there at all. In fact he left them at his friend Max's. Great.  I know this is not rocket science (I hate that phrase), but I really thought...

A tricky first week back for reasons too many to mention, none of which horrendous on their own, but when you have about five of them at the same time, it makes for a muddled Humdrum. I found that sorting out Ben's clothes really cleared my mind. It'd been on my to do list for ages, but like all lists, never actually being ticked off. All received by the British Heart Foundation.  So from clearing out to actually going out. Ben had a sleepover at school on Friday, so we took the chance to go out for dinner. After last week's shenanigans, I'd sort of decided to do Dry January (affect voice a la Shaun Keaveny) but bumping in to Emma in Gun Wharf put paid to that! Actually I do her an injustice, I'd already ordered a bottle of Prosecco before I spotted her and her boyfriend. The last time we'd both been to that restaurant was together for a McCloskey Christmas meal. You know, the one where I took Ben to see Father Christmas the next day and was slighlty unwell. Yes...

Do you think we should let Tony know?

Out with footie parents Windy - we try to stay warm Out out!

Half-terms are for adults too you know, not just for children. Well perhaps only for adults working in schools. Each half-term, I have a mental list of all the things I'm going to "achieve". I never achieve them all. Where am I going wrong? Maybe in the idea that I have to "get things done", rather than just "do" things. This Whitsun week, spent with the in-laws in a cottage-complex near Frome in Somerset, I unintentionally changed the idea of my "to do list" in favour of a "creative do list". Here's what I did. I swam every day in the massive pool, improving my front crawl which was a great achievement in itself for me. I also ran every other day, first thing, which set me off in a good mood for the whole day. My m-i-l and I visited Stourhead House and Gardens. Whilst the house was a touch dry, the gardens were stunning. Taking an hour or so just to walk around idyllic meadows and rhododendron-lined pathways, investigate grotto...

These days, I love a good yomp around the countryside. A coastal walk is the best, but country walks rock too. The problem is, Ben doesn't love them quite as much as me and Mr Humdrum. I was never a good walker when I was young. How I wish now that I'd done the Ten Tors, but I never saw the beauty in tackling rolling hills. I'd rather have been gothing in my bedroom or, earlier still, playing on the beach. So how to interest Ben?  To be fair to Ben, at the end of a walk, he will usually say he's enjoyed it, but he'll just moan during it. And when you holiday in Cornwall each year, there aren't that many parts of the countryside which better it, so he's not really going to appreciate it as much as I do. Yesterday we walked around the Devil's Punchbowl.  Our new hobby, geocaching, provided a hook. We 'cached beforehand (tick) and gave Ben the choice of where to 'cache on the way home. He just had to endure a walk in the middle, where there were NO ...