And so we put 2019 to bed....
Last night we played musical beds. (Standard in CM house). Husband has the worst cold ever and my daughter is also getting over a cough so we quarantined them to our room. My Mum in the guest room. My son in his cabin bed. I slept in my 9 year old's bedroom and I lay there and gazed at her spanking new desk, her football trophies, her abundance of stuffed animals and I wished so hard that life could stay this sweet. Soon this will all go and be replaced with cool teenage stuff and I will forever mourn her simple, colourful, 'optimistic outlook' (yes that this what the colour is called - it is VERY optimistic and aqua) painted room.
More than ever I try and hold time. Grateful for every day here. How can we be seeing in 2020? I mean, isn't it like 2003 or something? I CAN'T be THAT OLD. So as I say goodbye to 2019 as usual I wanted to mull over the year - what I have learnt, what I have lost, what I have loved, what I have achieved. Because isn't that the point of the end of year interminable days between Xmas and New years - to look back and then wipe that slate clean; new year, new you and all that jazz?
So how was it? I'm not gonna lie - February was brutal. I have never known a more painful time. I've used the trios we do at college as therapy to overcome the after affects and I'm emerging stronger now, if somewhat bruised. When someone your age dies, it feels like the world has got the order wrong. How can someone so young, so full of life, suddenly be gone? Death leaves behind unanswered questions, unspoken ties broken and yet we must pick up the pieces and move on. At college I was told a phrase: 'We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, a new found love, or a broken heart away from becoming a completely different person. How beautifully fragile are we, that so many things can take but a moment to alter who we are forever.'
Ok, I'll get more cheery. Bear with me. Then came house refurb and I GROSSLY underestimated how much head space that took up. Having been dicked around about work - I found I had time on my hands and looking back - I am SO grateful I had it. My 'house ideas' book looked like the one the killer scribbles all over in Se7en. Insane amount of planning and choosing and oh my god, I LIVED on eBay. I have never known such a thrill - sourcing items from all over the place. Cinema chairs from here, old cabinet to put the sink on from there, old puffer fish light fitting from a miserable woman in Surrey. Days went by in a flash, finding ovens, taps, fridges etc. We only moved out for a mere 3.5 weeks and when we returned, upstairs had been completely gutted and everywhere was filled with rubble and dust. I couldn't breathe; I hated walking over the uneven floors and I dreamt of carpet on a nightly basis. Somehow, when we painted the WHOLE house ourselves (4 coats baby!) it started to come together. People kept saying how I must be loving it - when all I could think was - this is HELL. Until the floors came and then carpet and finally the kitchen doors were made and in and suddenly, it was done. I sat back and loved my home. All that sweat and OCD fixation on detail was worth it. I cried when my builders left - because I missed them. Paul, Gary, James, Darryl and Jack were the highlights of my year. Gary - a carpenter genius, helped me solve every problem and had the best design ideas I could have dreamt of. James and I chatted Love Island every day. Darryl asked me: 'any jobs you need doing?' Heaven. If you want details: Paul Hobbs builders. THE BEST.
Then summer was over and yet my outdoor swimming continued - albeit without my wetsuit. ( Due to a mere 15 litres of paint spilling in our car - thanks Selco - and all over said wetsuit). It was easily the best bit of my year. Total bliss. I have never known such joy as getting into 6 degree water. The water stings, my shoulders ache, my feet are blocks of ice and then... its wonderful. Afterwards, my body feels like it has been through an epidural and I can't feel my feet for about 2 hours, but it is honestly worth it. On reflection this year has really been about embracing difficulties until out of the blue, they become inexplicably wonderful. Thank you Katy for being my swim partner in crime - the sight of you in a bobble hat swimming towards swans shouting FUCKKKKKKKKKKK - This is NOT EVEN FUNNY - still makes me smile.
My son became a teenager and I attended a 50th the same weekend. To combat the feeling of being wildly over the hill, I bonded with the Uni students serving drinks and discussed their love lives - me being all down with the kids and that. Until their free-pouring meant the only thing I was down with, was falling into a privet hedge and flailing like a beetle until I was rescued and poured into a cab by my tolerant husband.
I found that the best pleasure in life is a dog walk. So, after promising our daughter we would get a dog: 'when we move house; when we get planning; after the refurb is done;' we have run out of excuses and our first purchase of 2020 will be a fox red lab.... Stay tuned for the woman who has never had a dog - surviving puppy school....
College: just a joy. We studied all the theories of counselling and I got to learn what a total feck-up I am... before you laugh - er, so are you. We all are. That's what makes people fascinating. I learned why I behave as I do; why it is ok to let people go from your life if they are not supportive and true friends; what narcissists really are; Freud's theories; attachment theories; transactional analysis; Drivers (mine: being perfect); CBT and NATs; Carl Rogers' theories; Erikson's life stages and the triangle of insight. I love love love it. Not so much the studying, but the privilege of hearing other people's stories and working out why they behave as they do. The best thing about my course is that not only do you have to do the work - essays, presentations etc - but you have to do the work ON YOU. I leave class every week thinking 'how am I fucking up my children on a daily basis?' In one journal I wrote about conquering my OCD then realised I had spent the morning tidying the house rom top to bottom before writing. As I said, I'm a work in progress...
What else? Oh yes, I learnt to say NO. I'll never work again for producers that treat you like a dancing monkey. If you screw up and send a writer the wrong story, and they spend their entire half term neglecting their kids to write a new version - only for it to be a total waste of time as it is the wrong version - then admit your mistake! I'm not prepared any more to spend my days going in circles; being treated badly and for it to be seen as acceptable. There is something very 'bad boyfriend I can't quit' about various aspects of writing - and frankly, I'd rather stack shelves at Waitrose than have to put up with it. I may end up poor, but I'll be emotionally richer and for me, that's more important. But the projects planned in 2020 are my most favourite-is yet so here's hoping they go well.
So as I move into this new decade, I think my new mantra is about simplicity. Getting outdoors and into cold water. Eating well and getting sleep. Caring about the planet and about each other. Yes, I am a becoming a bloody hippy... But truly, a little kindness goes a long way. So my aim for this decade, is just to be here as we approach the next one. (DV).
To those that still dip in here to CM - I send love and thanks. I wish you all peace, health and happiness in 2020. Make it count. Keep her lit!
Love CM xx
Last night we played musical beds. (Standard in CM house). Husband has the worst cold ever and my daughter is also getting over a cough so we quarantined them to our room. My Mum in the guest room. My son in his cabin bed. I slept in my 9 year old's bedroom and I lay there and gazed at her spanking new desk, her football trophies, her abundance of stuffed animals and I wished so hard that life could stay this sweet. Soon this will all go and be replaced with cool teenage stuff and I will forever mourn her simple, colourful, 'optimistic outlook' (yes that this what the colour is called - it is VERY optimistic and aqua) painted room.
More than ever I try and hold time. Grateful for every day here. How can we be seeing in 2020? I mean, isn't it like 2003 or something? I CAN'T be THAT OLD. So as I say goodbye to 2019 as usual I wanted to mull over the year - what I have learnt, what I have lost, what I have loved, what I have achieved. Because isn't that the point of the end of year interminable days between Xmas and New years - to look back and then wipe that slate clean; new year, new you and all that jazz?
So how was it? I'm not gonna lie - February was brutal. I have never known a more painful time. I've used the trios we do at college as therapy to overcome the after affects and I'm emerging stronger now, if somewhat bruised. When someone your age dies, it feels like the world has got the order wrong. How can someone so young, so full of life, suddenly be gone? Death leaves behind unanswered questions, unspoken ties broken and yet we must pick up the pieces and move on. At college I was told a phrase: 'We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, a new found love, or a broken heart away from becoming a completely different person. How beautifully fragile are we, that so many things can take but a moment to alter who we are forever.'
Ok, I'll get more cheery. Bear with me. Then came house refurb and I GROSSLY underestimated how much head space that took up. Having been dicked around about work - I found I had time on my hands and looking back - I am SO grateful I had it. My 'house ideas' book looked like the one the killer scribbles all over in Se7en. Insane amount of planning and choosing and oh my god, I LIVED on eBay. I have never known such a thrill - sourcing items from all over the place. Cinema chairs from here, old cabinet to put the sink on from there, old puffer fish light fitting from a miserable woman in Surrey. Days went by in a flash, finding ovens, taps, fridges etc. We only moved out for a mere 3.5 weeks and when we returned, upstairs had been completely gutted and everywhere was filled with rubble and dust. I couldn't breathe; I hated walking over the uneven floors and I dreamt of carpet on a nightly basis. Somehow, when we painted the WHOLE house ourselves (4 coats baby!) it started to come together. People kept saying how I must be loving it - when all I could think was - this is HELL. Until the floors came and then carpet and finally the kitchen doors were made and in and suddenly, it was done. I sat back and loved my home. All that sweat and OCD fixation on detail was worth it. I cried when my builders left - because I missed them. Paul, Gary, James, Darryl and Jack were the highlights of my year. Gary - a carpenter genius, helped me solve every problem and had the best design ideas I could have dreamt of. James and I chatted Love Island every day. Darryl asked me: 'any jobs you need doing?' Heaven. If you want details: Paul Hobbs builders. THE BEST.
Then summer was over and yet my outdoor swimming continued - albeit without my wetsuit. ( Due to a mere 15 litres of paint spilling in our car - thanks Selco - and all over said wetsuit). It was easily the best bit of my year. Total bliss. I have never known such joy as getting into 6 degree water. The water stings, my shoulders ache, my feet are blocks of ice and then... its wonderful. Afterwards, my body feels like it has been through an epidural and I can't feel my feet for about 2 hours, but it is honestly worth it. On reflection this year has really been about embracing difficulties until out of the blue, they become inexplicably wonderful. Thank you Katy for being my swim partner in crime - the sight of you in a bobble hat swimming towards swans shouting FUCKKKKKKKKKKK - This is NOT EVEN FUNNY - still makes me smile.
My son became a teenager and I attended a 50th the same weekend. To combat the feeling of being wildly over the hill, I bonded with the Uni students serving drinks and discussed their love lives - me being all down with the kids and that. Until their free-pouring meant the only thing I was down with, was falling into a privet hedge and flailing like a beetle until I was rescued and poured into a cab by my tolerant husband.
I found that the best pleasure in life is a dog walk. So, after promising our daughter we would get a dog: 'when we move house; when we get planning; after the refurb is done;' we have run out of excuses and our first purchase of 2020 will be a fox red lab.... Stay tuned for the woman who has never had a dog - surviving puppy school....
College: just a joy. We studied all the theories of counselling and I got to learn what a total feck-up I am... before you laugh - er, so are you. We all are. That's what makes people fascinating. I learned why I behave as I do; why it is ok to let people go from your life if they are not supportive and true friends; what narcissists really are; Freud's theories; attachment theories; transactional analysis; Drivers (mine: being perfect); CBT and NATs; Carl Rogers' theories; Erikson's life stages and the triangle of insight. I love love love it. Not so much the studying, but the privilege of hearing other people's stories and working out why they behave as they do. The best thing about my course is that not only do you have to do the work - essays, presentations etc - but you have to do the work ON YOU. I leave class every week thinking 'how am I fucking up my children on a daily basis?' In one journal I wrote about conquering my OCD then realised I had spent the morning tidying the house rom top to bottom before writing. As I said, I'm a work in progress...
What else? Oh yes, I learnt to say NO. I'll never work again for producers that treat you like a dancing monkey. If you screw up and send a writer the wrong story, and they spend their entire half term neglecting their kids to write a new version - only for it to be a total waste of time as it is the wrong version - then admit your mistake! I'm not prepared any more to spend my days going in circles; being treated badly and for it to be seen as acceptable. There is something very 'bad boyfriend I can't quit' about various aspects of writing - and frankly, I'd rather stack shelves at Waitrose than have to put up with it. I may end up poor, but I'll be emotionally richer and for me, that's more important. But the projects planned in 2020 are my most favourite-is yet so here's hoping they go well.
So as I move into this new decade, I think my new mantra is about simplicity. Getting outdoors and into cold water. Eating well and getting sleep. Caring about the planet and about each other. Yes, I am a becoming a bloody hippy... But truly, a little kindness goes a long way. So my aim for this decade, is just to be here as we approach the next one. (DV).
To those that still dip in here to CM - I send love and thanks. I wish you all peace, health and happiness in 2020. Make it count. Keep her lit!
Love CM xx
1 comment:
Happy New year. May the experiences be grand and the memories carry us through.��
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