Family Affairs and other matters

I would dearly love to become financially dependent from my ex husband. That way I would not be beholden to him in anyway and I would be able to avoid having to go and pick up a cheque from him on a regular basis which he cannot bear to give me. Should I decide to marry again (this is not of major concern btw as nobody to marry) I would lose all the money he gives me anyway.

It’s difficult for women who have spent a number of years at home with the kids. I’m trying to earn an independent living – around looking after three children on my own. Working full time when I had no specific skills just wasn’t worth doing after all I’d have to pay in childcare. When we were newly married, I was on a higher salary than my husband. I had a company car. I had an expense account. I stopped working after a few years to bring up our family. It was a joint decision. We were doing a lot of travelling. We lived abroad and it wasn’t very easy to work, although I did work for a record company in Melbourne for a while. Anyway, I loved being in the (arguably) enviable position of looking after my children. Not all the time. Obviously. BUT, when the shit hit the fan in our marriage I was ten years down the line. Looking after children was suddenly all I felt “qualified” to do – I had thrown myself headlong into that role, without considering what was going to happen next. I had no job prospects. No formal training. No confidence. No contacts. No way of knowing how I’d cope back out there. I was even scared at the thought of getting back on the tube. It was a nightmare. In many ways I wish I’d kept my foot in the door somehow.

Before my marriage fell apart, I started re-training to become a fitness instructor because it seemed like the perfect way of working around my children. I could pick my hours. Now I’m a few years down the line. It’s going very well, but I’m not sure it was the route I would have chosen had I known what was about to happen. Some friends think I should go back to work now full time – some are gently guiding me back out there, taking me along to things and introducing me to people. My blog of course is allowing me further opportunities to meet people and do other things AND being on a committee for my fashion designer friend has meant I am having a few meetings with Very Important People. So maybe something will happen someday and I can merge all my loves and interests and actually make some money.

Aren’t kids just great. Here I am having “meetings” here and there and my children just take the piss. I had to rush into town on Sunday morning to meet a woman at a hotel who was just about to get back on a plane to the Seychelles where she lives. She had offered THE most amazing holiday prize for the silent auction I’m helping with and I had to go and get the details. One minute I was sitting at my computer in my dressing gown looking dishevelled and the next minute after reading an email from her I was rushing about the house, freaking out because I had to get to a “meeting” in town in 45 minutes and everything sort of fell apart. The kids just stood there open mouthed as I flung clothes on, printed off a route to hotel, grabbed files, shouted instructions, rushed out the door. I drove furiously, got lost, parked illegally and kept fingers crossed, had meeting, drank coffee, sorted out prize, tried to hold my breath because I didn’t even have time to clean my teeth and then ran back to car to find I’d got £120 parking ticket (@£$$!!!, and other such expletives) and got back home in time to take my kids out to lunch. “Mum, you’re SUCH a loser, you can’t even have a meeting without getting a parking ticket and getting lost and freaking out and anyway, stop saying you’re going to another MEETING, you’re just chatting over coffee” sneered my teenage son – which all three of my kids found hilariously funny. They then spent the rest of the afternoon asking me when my next “meeting” was.

What could I say? He’s right, I’m not as yet coping very well with meetings.  They’re all a bit new and scary, but still STOP TAKING THE PISS OUT OF A 40 SOMETHING MOTHER WHO’S TRYING TO START AGAIN BECAUSE OF YOU LOT. SHOW ME SOME RESPECT, I wanted to say.

I didn’t like to mention was that last time I was in a shopping centre busily rushing about, I stopped (because there’s some sort of magnet) in front of one of the make-up counters and was persuaded to try some new product. Sitting me down the girl said “how shall I do your make-up – what have you got on today” and I said, “well, I’m going to a business meeting” in a way that sounded like I was just about to get married and she repeated me “A BUSINESS MEETING? WOW? AN ACTUAL MEETING?, well then, we’d better sort you out”.

About an hour later, my skin, now covered in about eight discreet layers of foundation and then some mineral powder on top, my eyes covered in wheat eye basic, gold metallic creme eye colour, layered with stellar baroque satin eye colour, with black gold eye liner and topped with eye concealer and my lips a subtle blend of several lipsticks, lipliners and gloss I was ready. For. My. Meeting.

Of course, nobody noticed anything. I didn’t look any different and it literally took an hour to put on. This is after I mentioned that I needed some very quick techniques to use because business meetings were exceptionally rare and normally I had three children and a busy life and I only have 3 minutes if I’m lucky to put on make-up and I need to be able to do it whilst stirring porridge and undoing shoe-lace knots.

Only my daughter noticed. “Mum, you really shouldn’t wear cream blusher at your age – it just sits on your skin and looks weird. Powder blush would be better – it doesn’t highlight the wrinkles so much and by the way – have you tried that new wrinkle filler cream I bought you for Christmas?”.

It’s a joke. When is anybody going to take me seriously again.

No really. I’m serious.