A really quick post to say merry Christmas and Happy new year to all my readers, friends and family. I look forward to sharing the new year with you and wish you all the best of what life has to offer. I've parked the car for the night and intend to have a nice adult beverage and endure watch Christmas movies with my little snugglies.
Right now I'm sat in a room away from my son. This isn't me. I'm sat listening to him listening to the television, or perhaps the kindle or both. This isn't me. I'm sat wondering when this started happening, again. Why this started happening, again. He knows which numbers to press to get to his favourite channel, he knows that in order to get my attention he has to stand in front of me and demand it. He knows that I get him breakfast, I sit in my room, I get him lunch, I sit in my room, I cook dinner, I spend an hour or two with him and his sister then send them to their room, this isn't me. On work days I get us ready, kiss the teen, drop him to nursery and leave. I work. I make minimal conversation with the people around me about the weather, the show I haven't watched on TV and the book sat in my hand used to escape the room. This really isn't me. He has come to my room now to sit with me, his body leaning on me just wanting to be as close as possible to the person who at present keeps him at arms length for reasons she can't understand. This is not me. I don't know what's wrong (or perhaps I do) but I have to find a way to make it right. A way to play with my children again, hug them, dance with them, laugh with them and take them on adventures. I have to find that joy I know lives somewhere inside me and bring it to the surface, perhaps when today is yesterday I will be me again.
The run up to this Christmas has so far been one of the hardest ones; with nursery fees, overseas school trips, bills and a complete lack of support from anyone (except of course my darling mother) I've had to scrape the barrel to get some gifts for my children. I've been lucky enough to grab some second hand bargains and thrown in some lower priced items that I know they will love. I usually buy myself a little treat for the occasion but this year I'm happy to settle for cuddles from the children. The lack of finances did however get me thinking, if money were no object, what would I actually want this Christmas? Putting aside all the practical things you should do with money like making investments for the future, I know for sure that the first thing I would have purchased is a ticket back to Barbados. I miss my family. I miss my mum. The feeling of a full house she creates just by being present. It's taken me years to realise that as terrible as my mums singing is, there is nothing that comforts me more than dancing with her in the kitchen to whatever hymn she has chosen to ruin that day.
Whilst enjoying a Christmas in the sun I'd pay someone to refurbish my whole house, new flooring throughout, new sofas, new curtains new beds for the kids and a skip for all the crap we've collected throughout the years. That way I could come home to a newly decluttered and clean house. I'd finally purchase the camera I've been wanting for the last couple of years and some lessons on how to use it properly!
And lastly, as sad as this may be, I'd buy a steam cleaner. I don't know if it's the grey hairs that have done it but I finally seem to be in the stage of my life where a new household appliance beats a new item of clothing, well at least it does until I'm actually in the shops!
There have been times in my single life that were fun and carefree but there were also times which were lonely and frustrating, despite that I've come to the realisation that I'm either afraid or unwilling to share my life completely. Being physically intimate is not the issue, even though I had been celibate for over 3 years, I'm far from new at the bedroom game and am not in the slightest bit prudish. What I don't like is the idea of welcoming someone into my home and sharing my space with them, especially because it's the home I share with my children; where their toys or books can found in almost every room, their photos are dotted about on walls, cupboards and window sills, even when they are not present the house holds dear the joy of our little family and opens it's doors only to the closest of family and friends.
Our little families initials on London's Bus Trail Bus
If you are welcomed into my home it is likely that you are loved either by myself and/or my children. I guess that means what I have right now is not love, but I already know that. How though can it ever be love if I won't even give it a chance? I feel slightly sad that in the last few years of my life I've held any male who showed an interest at a 'comfortable' distance. It's a distance that's good for me, but not so great for them. It seems that it doesn't matter how many times he tells me I'm beautiful or says that I don't understand how much he cares for me, I'm just not in the right mindset to accept it. I wonder if it would be any different if it were coming from someone else, though something tells me it wouldn't matter. Part of me feels that writing this down will help me to work through it, another part of me thinks that admitting I'm 'flawed' or 'damaged' is going to do nothing but keep me there. However I stand by the statement that "our mistakes do not define us," which means that the only way to go from this admittance is forward.