Again.

Which is completely fine.

Obviously.

I have always been very close to my mother but inevitably the relationship has changed (more evolved I guess) since my father died just over a year ago. As a result of losing her soulmate of nearly 50 years she has lost her way. Doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. So many readjustments to make it’s ridiculous. She is getting smaller by the minute. Literally shrinking. Ridiculously small. I wanted to shout “HOW HAVE YOU GOT SO SMALL?? YOU NEED TO EAT MORE. GET BIGGER. STOP SHRINKING” “GROW!!” It’s difficult. She’s searching for a new way to live her life and for a reason to get up in the morning and it must be very hard. With all the jokes I’m making about Valentine’s Day I can feel a massive heart-swell of sadness looming underneath my ribcage for her – because my father was spectacular on Valentine’s Day. Always drew her a fabulous card – the last one he did for her had little cartoon figures of him on a boat, in a plane, driving a car, playing golf, drinking with mates, being on holiday and so on and then on the inside page he said “I only have one serious hobby and that is you” with a little cartoon picture of her….

She has to find a new role for herself without really wanting to have to do it and with not so many options available to her anymore and all we can do as her children is welcome her into our homes whenever she is feeling brave enough to fit in with another family and in my case leave her to fight her corner in the dragon’s den as best she can with my three growing children (although at least she doesn’t have to pretend to get on with any in-laws). It doesn’t always work. Having my mother trying not to judge me from her allocated seat behind her newspaper makes me behave badly. I seem to be more stressed because I slightly feel that because there’s another adult in the room things should be easier. Tasks should be divided and my life should become half as difficult. So I do a lot more huffing and puffing and making things look more complicated than they actually are. Her presence mostly seems to highlight just how dysfunctional we can be as a family. Yesterday for example (and I blame the full moon) we all had meltdowns left, right and centre to the point where my mother announced that life in my house was worse than watching an episode of Eastenders mixed with Holby City.

Great.

OMG this is a major coup for me. How lucky am I to be friend’s with the woman who invented the game Bananagrams?? It really wasn’t very long ago that we were having a coffee and talking about our respective disastrous divorces and what to do about everything when she told me that she and her father had designed a game and were having a prototype built to test it out but it was all top secret…. A few years later and Bananagrams is the UK Number ONE game according to the Financial Times, it has been translated into many different languages, is a PS game, an app and growing madly everywhere you look. Incredible. Just goes to prove that anything is possible if you have the belief (or the dream and now I’m sounding like a Disney representative).

ANYWAY, as a result in order to cheer me up for Valentine’s Day I’m allowed to offer you the chance to win a limited edition heart-shaped Bananagrams game. Instead of it’s usual Banana-shaped pouch, the game has been re-produced in a gorgeous heart-shaped fabric case to mark the most romantic day of the year. What’s more, this specific design can’t be found in any shops – so this is one of the only ways of getting your hands on one! A perfect treat for established fans of the game, as well as for anyone completely new to the Bananagrams world, to enter the competition simply:-

Follow @FamilyAffairs and @Bananagrams_UK

Send me a tweet saying why you think you deserve the heart shaped games and RT the offer as well

Leave a comment on my blog as well preferably so that I can make sure I don’t miss anyone out.

GOOD LUCK x

To find out more about the global phenomenon that is Bananagrams and to discover all the games in the range, visit www.bananagrams.com or like them on Facebook – www.facebook.com/BananagramsGames.”

I’ve got to make something very clear. You are not expected to be as funny as Sally Phillips in your Valentine’s day story – you can just write a sentence I don’t care…..I’ve had several emails/comments saying no point in entering – hers will be the best. SHE’S NOT ALLOWED TO ENTER and I won’t add her story – if you want to see it it’s in a post I wrote yesterday.

So come on then. Hurry up and enter – it’s a very nice bracelet:-

A pearl bracelet worth nearly £30 which you can see here:- http://www.handpickedcollection.com/pearl-tag-bracelet.html

So here we go then – it’a all very simple – I want you to leave a comment on my blog about a funny Valentine’s story to cheer me up (long or short, doesn’t matter). Then I just need to you follow @FamilyAffairs and @HandPickedCollection and you also need to Like their Facebook page which is here https://www.facebook.com/HandpickedCollection so nothing too difficult I don’t think.

Good luck.

This is very good. I have some games to giveaway and some chocolates and an online gift company I know well called Handpicked Gifts has suggested all sorts of things that I could buy – mainly for myself instead of for someone else from their Valentine’s selection http://www.handpickedcollection.com/special-occasions/valentine-s-gifts.html. I particularly love the Aspinal wallets.

However, I’m not really sure about the idea of buying something for myself. I’ve tried doing that before = mainly for Christmas – wrapped presents I’d bought for myself and opened them in a Mr Bean-esque style saying “oooh, how lovely, who bought this for me?” looking around expectantly and lots of “It’s just what I wanted” and it was all going quite well until about the third present when the children started looking at me with utter contempt and I began to feel a little bit like a sad loser.

SO. I won’t be buying anything for myself but neither will I be ignoring the day and I’ve been offered a fabulous bracelet that I’d definitely wear myself but I’m going to let you have the chance to have it. I may enter myself. That’s my prerogative. It’s my blog.

LOOK what you can win! A pearl bracelet worth nearly £30 which you can see here:- http://www.handpickedcollection.com/pearl-tag-bracelet.html

So here we go then – it’a all very simple – I want you to leave a comment on my blog about a funny Valentine’s story to cheer me up. Then I just need to you follow @FamilyAffairs and @HandPickedCollection and you also need to Like their Facebook page which is here https://www.facebook.com/HandpickedCollection so nothing too difficult I don’t think.

Good luck.

Just to help you – here is Sally Phillips’ funny Valentine story (but yours doesn’t have to be nearly that long – or mad…):-

Valentine’s Day – the 16th Best Day of the Year* for Lovers by Sally Phillips for The Handpicked Collection
(leaders of the revolt against overpriced wilt-in-a-minute roses for Valentine’s Day…)

Valentine’s Day. The day I try hardest not to look like a gerbil (difficulty level 5) approaches. I take five online ‘How Romantic Are You?’ tests and do not score highly. This is a shock. I pride myself on being the 12th least emotionally stunted comedian in the country and (arguably) the second most romantic after Jack Dee. True, it has never occurred to me to leave my husband an ‘I-love-you-have-a-great-day’ post-it note under the toilet seat but surely ‘You are spiritless and dead’ (MySpace) is over-stating it?

I like the dinner and compliments side of Valentine’s Day, it’s the thoughtful extras that stress me out. I have experienced few things more frightening than being led blindfold by a fruitcake Valentine into a dimly lit room full of balloons. I would genuinely prefer to come home to a bed with ‘I drown squirrels’ spelled out on it in Refreshers than one strewn with rose petals. Producing anything more complicated than a heart-shaped fried egg on Valentine’s Day should be a sackable offence. Fortunately my husband agrees. He’s still hard to buy for. What to get for an amateur arsonist who is terrified of dog poo and whose favourite film is Mrs Doubtfire? I did find combustible false breasts with wire bristles for Christmas.
I hope I don’t get roses again.

How to receive roses graciously: Lesson One.
Receiving roses graciously is so hard the University of Ham is now offering it as a degree course so what follows is a very simplistic overview. Say “ohTHANKYOUtheyresoBEAUTIFUL!” with meaning, inhale deeply and pretend they smell of something. You must not then leave them in the sink – unwrap them immediately and attempt to hack the bottom section of the stems off at an angle with your kitchen scissors. Although this will be akin to cutting an Action Man’s leg off with a Twix you must persist as whipping out bread knives and shears etc will make you look unfeminine and scare your Valentine. As will screaming ‘sh*t me’ when the thorns get stuck in your thumbs.

Do not hammer the stems with a meat mallet in front of your Valentine for the same reason, also because it kills the flowers. N.B. if your roses do not come with rosefood you CANNOT, it turns out, make your own by tipping caster sugar into the water instead, though this is a fun way to grow Quorn. Try to put your roses in something classy, like a vase or spaghetti jar. Using a decapitated Matey bottle may seem ungrateful.

If you are still excited about your evening after all that then you may be experiencing lurrrve and will probably get distracted and forget to put any water in and your roses will wizen. Oh well. Thank God I don’t live in America where Valentining is such a serious business people who score twos on ‘How Romantic Are You?’ quizzes are left in swamps to be eaten by alligators.

My husband and I may never do Valentine’s on a pink horse, pockets jammed with doves but deep down we’re very romantic. Maybe very deep down and maybe romantic in the way a homophobe may, deep down, one day, turn out to be gay…but we’re up for the 14th. We like each other. We have a copy of the Handpicked Collection catalogue. And we can tango.

A friend and client of mine who has been there – done that with her children some years ago sent me an email – I’m not sure if I was supposed to feel reassured after reading it – IT HASN’T HELPED AT ALL:-

“I read your blog yesterday. Don’t worry about the gap year travel thing. Much. Because there were no mobiles or emails I remained in blissful ignorance about my sons exploits until they got home, more or less safe and sound. One was at Everest base camp; stranded in Patna, Bihar (poorest state in India) where he and his travel companion carried khukri’s (Gurkha knives) at the ready because they could have been murdered for their trainers; relieved of a large sum of money in a carpet scam at the Taj Mahal; spaced out in Goa, covered in henna tattoos and a nasty cigarette burn on his hand after being chased by a mob and only able to close the door with his hand on the outside. Etc etc. My Captain Sensible son on the other hand – bit of a run in with magic mushroom omelettes in Thailand. He and his friends didn’t realise you were meant to share one between about 6 not eat the whole thing yourself. Tried to bury himself in the sand on the beach as the world dissolved in funny shapes and colours. Also ferry crossing in small un-seaworthy vessel that only just reached land. Not even worth mentioning bunjee jumping from wobbly bridge over ravine or sky diving in New Zealand – that’s just normal stuff.

Otherwise just normal travel chaos and a lot of visits to the Hospital for Tropical Diseases when he got home. So really, you shouldn’t give this impending adventure another thought”.

I am definitely going to have to go with him. Or keep my eyes tightly shut and not read anything for 4 months. Really not sure if I want to see Facebook photographs of his beaded hair, goatee beard, baggy trousers and inane grin.

Trying to get him interested in getting in touch with friends and family a little before he arrives to check whether they will actually be in the country and able to offer him a bed but so far, nothing. “Mum, dw, it’s cool”….I think the parents of all the boys travelling are going to get together soon to stare at each other and freak each other out and talk about germs and other things I can’t even bear to think about.

Is it just me, or can you actually see a heart shaped snow flake in the right hand corner? It’s a sign! It’s a sign!

The idea is that parents who have a spare room while their child is away might take in a student from the town where their child is studying. Their child would go to that student’s home – for free. It is the brainchild of Hermione Pask, of Unihomeswap, who says it could save families thousands of pounds a year.

Many families won’t be able to afford the university fees let alone the additional accommodation and living expenses. This idea will help ease that burden. It will also appeal to lots of parents who are going to miss that stomp of huge great feet coming in late, slamming the door and waking everybody up then sleeping all day and eating all your food and farting in corners and watching TV at inappropriate hours and, and (can you tell it might not be me??)

Of course it won’t work for everyone – I’d be happy to have a student living with me (sort of but don’t quote me on it as I am likely to change my mind) but I can pretty much guarantee that my son would feel hard done by if he wasn’t in a hall of residence or a cheap house with mates – so it’s not going to appeal to everyone….

Here’s the link to the story if you want more details:-

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-16872455

Very relaxed. Excellent food. Log fires. Everyone welcome including dogs. Make sure you book though. Honestly, I’ve never had a more delicious roast beef – look at the size of that yorkshire pudding!  Walking distance from the park so you can work up a good appetite first!

and a lovely garden in the summer for BBQ’s and chilling:-

My friend Sally Phillips has actually written a Hollywood film that’s going to be out in a couple of weeks (March 13th to be precise). I had the privilege of being invited to preview it last week. Just a lovely endearing film set on the remote Scottish island of “Hegg” where nothing much usually happens. A proper Rom Com starring David Tennant and Kelly MacDonald. Also featuring Alice Eve, Michael Urie, Sally Phillips, Federico Castelluccio and Maureen Beattie.

When the wedding of US film star Lara Tyler to English writer James Arber is sabotaged by an obsessive paparazzo they decide to relocate their wedding to the one place in the world where the press won’t find them. However, it all inevitably goes wrong and a “decoy bride” is engineered to help detract from the proceedings. Sally developed the idea in order to create a female led romcom feature film looking at the widening gap between real women and “ideal” women. “Picking the Hebrides as a setting was probably initially just an excuse to go there. When I was researching I could only get as fare as Bute because I was too pregnant to fly and too nauseous to take the ferry. I read lots of guidebooks and novels and watched a lot of Puffins nesting on webcams.

I’m going to be able to give some DVD’s away and maybe even some signed stuff from Sally so watch this space.

My soon-to-be-travelling-to-the-end-of-the-world son is sitting behind me filling in a Visa application to Cambodia (and farting). He is off to various embassies today and to get his Japanese Encephalitis jab (I still don’t know what that is but it better be worth it because it’s costing me somewhere in the region of £78 and that’s on top of £150 for a rabies jab…).

I’ve been relatively calm up until now, because of course it’s a good thing that he’s off to spread his wings a little. Flee the nest for a minute. I know SEA really well – I couldn’t love it more. I have never felt safer. However putting myself into the mind and body of a 19 year old boy with 6 mates is an entirely different matter. Their brains function differently. They’re not sensible. Now that I’m getting a little more involved in the detail I’ve noticed my stress levels rising. My friends aren’t helping – mothers of two other boys who are going with him – they are not only far more hands on than me but are beginning to freaking me out about things like losing visas and border controls.

Here is an email my friend sent me yesterday:-

“After being very laid back about their forthcoming trip – am now feeling completely sick about the whole thing!! Was online last night checking he’d got the right info re visas etc and went on a few sites about safety, crime rates, healthcare, emergency services or lack of them!! Also read a few students real life experiences and freaked myself out. Anyway obviously haven’t slept a wink and now becoming completely paranoid so Catholic priest booked in for major blessing plus have asked a girl who has recently come back from travelling to meet up with them to chat about her experiences of travelling through Asia. She’s back from uni for a few days so thought it might be a good idea to get the boys together with her for a drink. I know my son won’t be impressed that I’m now interfering but his whole approach so far seems very naive and vague. Nowhere in Asia seems particularly great for blonde English teenage youths but Cambodia – well certain parts – sounds really scary.

Sorry don’t want to make you nervous and I’m sure they’ll be fine but I think the reality of them being away for a long period of time in strange lands is just hitting home!”

My response:-

FFS – the bloody rubber ring thing in Laos!! Shall we just follow them in disguise? I think I can get my mother to come for 4 months. Should be fine. Would be good to get together. Maybe we could also find somebody who looks awful who spent some time in a Thai prison to come to the pub for a drink too? Just to put them off? Know anyone?

Hers:-

Yes any deterrent is a good idea – this weekend I’m planning to run continuous showings of Apocalypse Now, The Deerhunter and The King of Siam – that should be enough to put anyone off!! Be good to meet up soon.

Mine:-

“Don’t forget “Midnight Express” – that’s the best one!! Must order it on Amazon now.

Anyway. You see how easy it is to whip yourself up into a frenzy of total panic. At this rate I’ll be at the airport refusing to let go of his leg and shouting at all the security men to stop him.

I wonder if this is because he’s my firstborn and it’s all new. Another phase in his life that I want to be involved in, take an interest in. Like all the 85,000 photos I took of him when he was born, started crawling, walking, swimming, going to school – as if he was the first child to ever do all that stuff. Isn’t it incredible how much information you can absorb at each stage – I was so knowledgeable on breast Vs bottle feeding and prams and primary schools and contagious water born diseases you can catch in swimming pools. I’ve got notes on his growth, his first words, I’ve even got a little box of his teeth. Surprised I haven’t got test tubes full of poo samples to be honest.

I wonder how much that level of focus from a parent affects the child long term and whether it’s therefore a good or bad thing that my third child is going to have an entirely different experience. He is at the opposite end of the spectrum and is convinced that there isn’t one photo of him growing up and to be honest, although I try to convince him otherwise, I haven’t found it yet. I have no memory of his first words, no photo album of his first year, no little umbilical cord clips (yuk) and no box of teeny weeny teeth. In fact, I am ashamed to admit that once, when I managed to lose his tooth before it went under his pillow for the tooth fairy I “borrowed” one from my little box that belonged to his older brother – but it was a little brittle and the wrong colour and he wasn’t really convinced.

Does this mean I’ll be far more chilled when it comes to his travels? Maybe I won’t even notice he’s gone….Unlikely. He’s my last child. He gets just the same amount of love from me, but in a different way. Must ask him about it all though and maybe try harder in future – wonder if he will want me to come with him to the hairdressers and save some locks of hair and other such stuff….