Chase away the greys

Oh I've been wanting to blog about so many things.... a programme on Social Workers that has haunted me, I often lie awake at night thinking about all the wee babies featured in it; a conversation with my oldest friend about seeing the difference in life between those who have been there through difficulties - and those false friends who pitch in at the last minute, in a weak attempt to ingratiate themselves, but who actually couldn't give a rat's ass about you; about the sheer joy of watching FNL on television now that it has finally made it to our shores; about how addictive Malteser bunnies are etc. etc. etc. but never seeming to get the time.

There was the week from hell that I last blogged about and then I flew to Ireland with my family for a week. It was hectic, fun, embracing, excluding, happy, sad, entertaining and all too quick. I saw dear old friends, shared rum and banter, then when the clock passed midnight we shared all the things that bring us right back to where we've always been. To unite us in our histories while we all still march forward in our different lives, in different countries, with different people.

I met up with a good friend - an old boss - a woman I admire and value, and found myself telling her all my hopes, all the plans I have been putting in place - the things I am too afraid to admit sometimes to myself, let alone others - and it was a relief. And wonderful to have someone cheer me on. I miss the craic (as wee say) in Belfast. The warmth and friendliness of the people. The amazing house I could have there if I swapped the one I am in. But my is it grey. The weather is relentless. Every day a speck of sunshine - a brief flutter across your face - and then THE GREY descends. Rain optional. There was a moment when my son was at an art class with my favourite artist, and Husband was holding The Diva Sproglette, and I was shoving coffee cake down my gullet and I felt peace. Pure joy. Cake, coffee and friendly folk. The artist's husband who runs cafe handed me one of her prints, and the moment was complete. It was still grey outside the steamed up window.

So now I am home, and the routine begins again. The order and the chaos, the mundane and the sublime. Through this sea there are days when I struggle to keep afloat. When the GREY descends, even a sunny day. But these days are less and less. They usually happen when The Diva is being beyond clingy and I have to wee with her on my lap and I dream of having some personal space - even being able to drink tea without her trying to stuff her hand into the cup. Yes, she likes tea.

Through this all, In fact through my whole life, I have always believed that one can have anything in life they desire. To quote my favourite book The Alchemist 'if you want something with all your heart, the whole universe conspires for you to achieve it.' I almost got that tattooed on me once, I believe it so strongly - but it has a lot of letters and I'm a wimp. So I'm going after that. I am asking the universe. I hope that it is listening. I'm sure I have shocked the hell out of it with some of my requests over the years. But on the whole it has conspired and I have received, with a lot of hard work and determination. You just have to believe. So in between I'm raising two kids, and staying afloat with no income. I'm eating cake and drinking wine and promising to start running soon. I'm finding a single grey hair and convincing myself it is really bleach or something, I'm feeling grateful every day for all that I have, and I'm collapsing in a heap most evenings while the bairns sleep. I'm keeping my GREY at bay. Yay.