On being a mother of one
Facebook just told me that four years ago today I stuck up a picture of this badge to tell my friends I was pregnant.
I can’t actually believe it was four years ago but it’s thrown into sharp relief the fact that most women in my situation would have had another baby by now. Or at least be pregnant.
Take my NCT class – of the six of us, all five of the others have had a second baby. I am the only one with only one. Just like I was the only one who didn’t manage to breastfeed, but that’s probably beside the point.
Or is it? Can we all find ways in which we feel like we don’t fit in, that we’ve wandered off the expected track, if we try hard enough? I don’t know if that’s the case, or if it’s just me overanalysing everything as usual, but I have always felt a little bit ‘different’ from my peers. And motherhood is just one of the ways in which I seem to have inadvertently not fitted in with the norm.
When my NCT friends started getting pregnant with their second children, I remember thinking ‘Shit, I better get on with it.’ Around this time people started asking if we wanted another, or, more rudely, ‘when are you going to have another?’ And I would sit there and stare at them and struggle to find a coherent answer. It wasn’t that I was against having another child, it was just that I wasn’t sure. The question felt huge, too big for me to find the answer.
“The decision to have a first baby, in my opinion, is pretty easy, because you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for.”
Oli and I spoke about it a lot. Perhaps it would have been easier if he felt strongly either way, but like me, he was on the fence. We love being parents – we worship our daughter – but at the same time, neither of us feels any burning desire to have another child. If I had fallen pregnant unexpectedly we would have been scared but I’m sure we would have been delighted too. But making the conscious decision to have another child was another matter.
The decision to have a first baby, in my opinion, is pretty easy, because you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for. But having a second is a whole different ballgame, because you know exactly what it will entail. And you have another small person to consider, who’s your whole world, and you know that whatever you do will impact them enormously.
So I did what I always do when faced with a question I don’t know the answer to: I researched it. Were only children really unhappy spoilt weirdos? Were children with siblings really much better adjusted? Was it really terribly lonely for children without siblings when they were older? How did it really affect relationships when you have two young children to look after? How much did siblings really play together and how much did they fight?
The results were fascinating, and (of course) subjective. But the overall message was that the perfect family size is the number of children you have, because if you love them they will be happy. That siblings are definitely not a guarantee of happiness, that (of course) nothing in life or relationships is as simple or clear cut as this, and that the most important thing is that your child grows up happy and well-adjusted with loving parents. No amount of brothers or sisters can compensate.
Oli and I are different parents in other ways too, of course. We are both self-employed, with unreliable and irregular incomes. Neither of us knows how our work lives will pan out. We are getting on a bit. Although I’m not too old to have a baby at 38, I’m not exactly a spring chicken. We have a comfortable, lovely life in a house that’s big enough for the three of us, but would be a bit of a squash if we had another. I’d like to be able to afford for Daphne to have piano lessons when she’s older, for us to go abroad once a year. Maybe I am wrong to be thinking of the practical considerations, but when practical things go awry it causes great stress, and stress affects everything.
A lot of people told me that they grew up with a very fixed idea of how big a family they wanted. They always wanted two kids. Or three. I never had that. I was never really that sure I even wanted one. I didn’t grow up dreaming of motherhood. Now that I am a mother, I feel unbelievably blessed, but I never had a fixed picture of what size and kind of family I wanted to be the matriarch of.
“I love our little family. I love it so much that I wake up in the night sometimes terrified that it’s all going to go wrong.”
And that’s the other thing. I feel unbelievably blessed. I’m risk averse. I love our little family. I love it so much that I wake up in the night sometimes terrified that it’s all going to go wrong. I’m so grateful to have our daughter. I feel like I’m tempting fate just writing this. What if we had a second child, and that second child had health problems, or my pregnancy went wrong? Or my inevitable exhaustion at having a young baby to care for affected my relationship with Daphne? Made me snappy and irritable with her? I had health issues with my first pregnancy and the stress was unimaginable. I just don’t want to put myself through that again. Which probably makes me a coward and a massive pessimist. I’m not sure, I’m just so grateful to have what I have, and there’s a voice in my head that continually shouts ‘don’t push your luck.’
So, we are probably not going to have another child. I have kept all Daphne’s baby things just in case I wake up one morning feeling desperate to procreate again, but my gut tells me it’s unlikely to happen. The thing that really clarified it was one of my friends asking me: ‘If it was normal to have one child, rather than two, would you be thinking of having another at all?’ And the answer was a resounding no. Which leads me to believe it’s the pressure to conform that’s the strongest voice in me contemplating having another baby. And that’s the worst reason of all.
It’s lonely though, being a mother of an only. Even though it’s becoming increasingly common, most of my friends with kids have two (at least). I feel like there should be some kind of support group for the ‘one and dones’. I find I am increasingly fascinated by modern motherhood and all its iterations. My novels focus on parenting in our contemporary world – my work in progress centres on a stay-at-home dad, and my upcoming book Unfollow Me is about an Instagram mum. I think the myriad different ways in which people parent in the 21st century are something to celebrate, not judge.
I hope this post doesn’t sound spoilt. There are, of course, no guarantees that I would fall pregnant again anyway. And as I said, I know how lucky I am. I really do. But I wanted to post this as an answer to all those people who keep asking me when we’re going to have another.
I also wanted to share my thoughts on this intensely personal and loaded subject, just in case there’s anyone else out there feeling a bit alone, as they go through the same thing.
You can find out more about THE RIVAL on my website, and order here if you want to make my day. UNFOLLOW ME will be published in June.
Me, on the internet
Happy 2019! It's been so long since I blogged that I've come to Wordpress only to find the CMS has completely changed. Hopefully this will work out alright...
So, since I last posted, quite a lot has happened. Most significantly, of course, is the fact that my book was finally published. It is officially out there. And the experience has been mildly debilitating, euphoric and plain weird all at once. I am so grateful that it's been pretty well-received. The reviews have been, on the whole, really lovely. It's not a conventional thriller (it's not really a thriller at all, but I've ranted about that before), so it's been really heartening to see most readers have enjoyed it and been surprised by it.
I'm currently knee-deep in book 3, which has been such a different experience from book 2. Book 2, by the way, will be out later this year! It has a title now: Unfollow Me, and you can find out more about it on my website. I really really enjoyed writing Unfollow Me - it was one of those rare experiences when the plot came to me pretty much fully formed, so I just had to write it all down. Book 3, on the other hand, has been a nightmare from the very first paragraph. But I had a break from actual writing (or typing, anyway) over Christmas and spent a long time thinking about it, and I'm hoping that I can wrestle it into some kind of shape in the second draft.
But I digress. The point of this post was really to do a little round up of places I've been featured on t'internet since The Rival was published, in case you want to find out a little bit more about it/me/my writing journey. So, without further waffle, here we go:
Why I wrote my debut novel The Rival - The Early Hour
My top 5 books about rivalry - The Big Issue
Best thrillers roundup - The Guardian
Beginners Pluck - The Irish Examiner
My journey to publication - Women Writers
Dark undercurrents of everyday life with Charlotte Duckworth - BritLit Podcast
My top 5 scariest reads - Crime Files
How the Faber Academy course helped renew my faith in writing - We Heart Writing
How I lost and found myself after having a baby - Female First
Three Pics to Publication - Amanda Reynolds blog
Phew! I am sure I have missed some but that will do for now. Before I go though, could I just ask a tiny favour? If you have read The Rival and didn't hate it, please would you pop a review on Amazon for me? It doesn't have to be long, but all ratings are so helpful, and I'd really appreciate it. If you have read it and didn't enjoy it however, I'd really appreciate you, er, not writing one. Cheers. ;)
You can find out more about THE RIVAL on my website, and order here if you want to make my day.
What it really feels like to get a bad review
It's happened! I have popped my bad-review cherry. Ugh, I apologise. That's the worst analogy/metpahor/whatever of all time. But anyway, I have had my first (and second) bad review. They weren't even that bad, but even so, it was a discombobulating experience. So discombobulating in fact that I thought I might blog about it and share my findings. Because being a writer, writing about stuff helps me deal with it. Obvious but true.
I consider myself relatively thick-skinned - but there is nothing quite like the sensation of someone you've never met before telling the world that something you've worked really hard on disappointed them. It hurts! It's also really weird. It feels a little like you're going along with your day, living your life, and then suddenly a stranger springs out of the bushes and slaps you round the face, and then disappears, leaving you with a sore cheek and a confused frown. It's a bit like an ambush.
After that first sense of shock and the stinging aftermath, comes your own sense of pride, riding out on a horse called Anger. Your pride then tells you that this person is an idiot, that they're wrong, that they know nothing etc etc. Your fingers twitch with desperation to type some clever, well-thought-out retort to show them who's boss. You want to ask them how many books they've bloody well written. You want to tell them that the twist was not a twist it was a sodding REVEAL so who cares if they guessed it - they were meant to and it was meant to be satisfying. You want to say that it wasn't meant to be highbrow literature, so if the prose was workaday then that's because it's commercial not literary fiction, and don't they know anything about the publishing market and genre-expectations?
You would also REALLY like to point out that you wrote and FINISHED your book before The Replacement aired on TV and that you were majorly pissed off when you saw the trailer and realised that if the book got published everyone would think you had nicked the idea.
Then you realise that would make you look like a dick.
(Well, maybe not that last bit about The Replacement. That last bit I would quite like to add to my writing bio. But I will resist and take comfort in this rant instead.)
So you decide to rise above it and get on with your day. But every now and then those choice phrases of criticism (my current favourite is 'the prose is merely workmanlike' - how bloody insulting to workmen) creep into your head and slap you round the face again. And you feel a bit sad.
You resolve never to look at your reviews again.
But then... your editor congratulates you on a new 5 star one. So of course you have to go and look. So you do. And you read their lovely feedback and it's like a warm drink heating you up from inside. And you wish you could reach out through your computer screen and hug the person who loved your book, and tell them how much their kind words mean to you.
And then you remember what your wise novelist friend told you. That a bad review just means the book wasn't for them. You imagine yourself whispering it to this faceless username who took such great offence at your work that they felt the need to warn others off it.
'It wasn't for you and that's OK. There are plenty of other books out there for you and plenty of other readers out there for me.'
And you go away and write this blog post. And that helps a bit too.
And then when the next bad review comes through, you read it with a better understanding. It still hurts, but a little less.
It wasn't for you. And that's OK.
If you're a fan of 'workmanlike prose' you can find out more about THE RIVAL on my website, and pre-order here if you want to make my day.
The joy of limbo
A bit of a weird post, this one, but please bear with me!
I wanted to write a post as a kind of virtual 'bookmark' to myself. To remind myself of this stage of my 'story' (sorry, terrible bookish puns will dry up eventually). It's struck me lately that this period in my life - the run up to the publication of my first novel - is quite unlike any other time, and is possibly going to be the best bit of the whole thing. I wonder if other authors feel like this?
Allow me to explain, in case you think I'm bonkers. At the moment, The Rival has been signed off editorially, which means it requires no more work from me. Now I'm very proud of the book, but I'm also a bit sick to death of it, having read it approximately 8000 times, and worked on it for the best part of a year. All that hard slog is over now, and it's ready to be 'born'. It's been edited and preened and pruned to perfection, and now all I have to do is wait for it to be unleashed on the world. And in that respect, I'm kind of in limbo.
But it's the best type of limbo, as I've signed a contract, received some actual money for it (which by the way is no less of a thrill than I had hoped it'd be - someone paying you cold hard cash for something you created from nothing is absolutely awesome) and I know it will be published, which has given me a wonderful sense of validation I've never had before. But - and this is the critical bit - I've yet to bear the agony of a reviewer telling me it's shit, or reading a GoodReads review that tells me the reader couldn't be bothered to finish it, or find out that no one outside my family has bought a single copy.
Hopefully none of those things will happen. Or at least not all of them. But they are all possible, and have happened to much greater and more talented writers than me.
I am terrified of reviews. I wish I had the self-discipline not to read them, but of course I will. I'll be checking every damn morning as soon as I wake up. Writing a book is so bloody achingly personal, and there's something so painful in people telling you that something that you poured your soul into is a load of old crap. Or that your characters are unlikeable when you love them. Or that they guessed the twist (oh how reviewers love to tell you that they've guessed the twists! Clever old you!). I am DREADING it.
I've had my fair share of rejections - after all, getting a book deal is 99% about overcoming rejection and I like to think I have a pretty thick skin. As a journalist I've had my work edited until it's unrecognisable and brushed off the bruises. But even though reviews are just rejections too, they're so public, it's somehow a different kettle of fish entirely. I am currently trying to develop tactics to stay sane when I read my first one-star review. I hope I won't fall to pieces.
As for the book being a total flop, that's another legitimate and massive fear. And as a control freak, it's so hard to deal with the fact that the book's success is not within my control at all. It's about so many factors - timing, the market, whether or not particular retail buyers want to stock it, how the PR/marketing campaigns go...
A lot of authors have said that having your first book published can really impact your ability to write another one - as it's so distracting and all-consuming, and confidence-knocking when you hear people tell you what you've written is crap. I suspect huge success is equally distracting - that immense pressure to live up to expectations with your next book. I was so conscious of this that I was determined to finish my second book before the first was published, and I have done, thankfully. But now I'm wondering if there's time to squeeze out a third? Or how about I just push my publication date further and further into the future? Or how about it just never gets published at all, but someone just pays me to sit at home and write books? Would that be OK?
I hope this doesn't sound too negative. It's not meant to. I'm actually just celebrating the present moment, which really is a time of pure joy. My book is being published. I've achieved something I have wanted to do since I first learnt to read. And I haven't had to deal with any of the hard stuff yet. I want to always remember how this feels - the pride of seeing my proof looking like a real book, the excitement of knowing a team of people love it and are 100% behind it. It's a magical time, this joyful limbo. It feels a bit like being at the top of a rollercoaster, that split-second of peace before you hurtle downwards (and hopefully back up again!).
You can find out more about THE RIVAL on my website, and pre-order here if you want to make my day.
Oh so quiet...
Things that aren't oh so quiet:
Daphne at 4.30 in the morning.
The sound of my current cough.
The cat deciding to join in as soon as it hears ANY KIND OF NOISE during the night.
Things that are oh so quiet:
This blog.
Yes, hello hello out there. I am sorry I have been neglecting you. The truth is, I've been working on something else, something a bit secret at the moment but that I hope to be able to reveal to you shortly (and no, it's nothing to do with the novel, aren't you relieved, FINALLY SHE'S STOPPED BANGING ON ABOUT THE NOVEL - although I am still working on that too - HA). But yes, new Secret Project (how annoying and wanky am I, you are welcome to hate me) has been taking up all my naptimes (Daph's, not mine, although how I wish I could work while napping myself) and Life by Lotte has been left trailing in its wake.
Having said that, it feels like a bit of a natural time to wind down this blog anyway, actually. As I said in my last baby update, I don't particularly want to chronicle Daph's monthly developments forever more, especially not once she's old enough to work out that I'm sharing all her personal info with a load of (very lovely, admittedly) strangers online. I'll definitely be back for her 18 month baby update, but after that I think I'll put LBL into a mini hibernation while I try to get the other project off the ground.
So yes, back soon, I promise, with more of my ramblings, but in a different guise. Hopefully you'll enjoy it just as much as this one. That's the plan anyway.
Laters alligators and may all your nights' sleeps be restful and undisturbed, and may your mornings not start at 4.45am with a poo, as mine did today. Daphne's poo, not mine, I hasten to add...
Midweek Musings: New skincare faves
Right, I promise today to not talk about babies or toddlers or anything mummy related. Instead, I thought I'd do a quick post on my two favourite things from my wonderful Liberty beauty advent calendar. And a quick note about that too: it was flipping expensive but really it was worth every penny, I LOVED opening it each day and best of all getting to try lots of different products that I would never normally even know about. So totally worth treating yourself if you can spare the dosh. This year, I think I'll try the Lookfantastic one, as I've heard good things about that too, and it seems to have more make-up in it (the Liberty one was quite skincare heavy). But I'm getting ahead of myself...
There were some real gems in the Liberty advent calendar. And only a few duds - as I said on Twitter I'm fairly sure that Night Brow Balm is a solution looking for a problem, and as for the two tubes of mini toothpaste - fancy they may be but still, meh.
But there are two products I've repurchased - here they are and here's why...
I know tons has been written about this already and it's also a bit controversial because it has mineral oil (Vaseline to you and me) in it, but it's literally THE BEST CLEANSER I HAVE EVER USED. It has truly transformed by skin. I was using Clinique's Take The Day Off before and while it did the job it also dried my skin out quite a bit. But the Eve Lom stuff seems to both exfoliate and leave my skin super baby soft, not a hint of tightness or dryness. It also comes with the best muslin cloth I have ever used (if you don't fancy the cleanser, maybe treat yourself to some of these instead - you can buy them in packs of three). Now, it's ridiculously expensive, and I used the entire advent-calendar pot up before buying it as I wanted to be sure sure sure before I splashed out that kind of dough, but no regrets. It means I need less moisturiser after and I've also given up my Alpha H Liquid Gold (which was great but did freak me out a bit with the burning sensation) because it seems to exfoliate so beautifully I don't need it. Hurrah. It's a bit smelly (I quite like the smell myself, clove oil I think!) so it's definitely worth testing before taking the plunge, but I'm a real convert and heartily recommend.
Malin + Goetz Vitamin E Moisturiser
This is a super boring looking bottle and a very underwhelming product to use. It has no discernible smell and the texture is quite thin. But it's amazing! It leaves my skin soft and happy without being shiny at all (no need for loads of powder throughout the day) and it hasn't clogged up my pores or broken me out. Also quite pricey, but another one I really recommend - it's apparently great for sensitive skin too. A bit of an obscure brand (and I wish they could have put a BIT more effort into the packaging because it's THIRTY NINE BLOODY QUID AND I WANT SOMETHING PRETTY FOR THAT) but totally worth checking out if you want something non-perfumed and kind to your skin that does the job.
Both of these are available at Space NK so I am sure you can get samples if you fancy testing them out. I also loved the Aurelia Refine & Polish Miracle Balm, but it's just stupid money, and the Laura Mercier hydrating primer, which really does help your foundation stick around.
Midweek Musings: Belated Resolutions
Might as well, right?
I'm a bit of a grumpy cow when it comes to actually celebrating New Year's Eve (as I've said before I'm allergic to organised fun), and this year was no exception. However, there's definitely something to be said for feeling refreshed and coming to the year anew, rethinking all that's gone before and deciding on some changes.
So, a little bit late I know, but here are my new year's resolutions:
Lose some bloody weight
Now, I'm not the sort of person who really obsesses about their weight but that's because up until about two years before I got pregnant I could eat whatever I liked and I really didn't put any weight on. But then my metabolism changed completely, and suddenly I understood all the neuroticism surrounding food. When I was pregnant I decided it didn't bloody matter what I weighed so long as the baby was growing (which she wasn't - cue my excuse to eat even more). Then I gave birth and felt a bit horrified by my new figure, and worked a bit to get some of those maternal fat stores off. But then Daph decided to stop sleeping. And we moved house to somewhere where the car is needed to get to most places, meaning I don't even get to go for long walks anymore. And then it got cold and then it was Christmas and I ATE ALL THE THINGS. And now I am about half a stone heavier than I was in the summer, and I actually feel gross. So yes, new year's resolution no 1 is the most boring and predictable one of all but I must stop EATING ALL THE THINGS. Specifically, sugar. And get off my arse more. I'm back doing the XBX plan which I love (apart from the lateral bends which are bloody HORRID), and once the weather warms up, intend to start jogging again.
Stop spending so much money
I'm not terrible with money - I don't really have any debt apart from my mortgage, but neither do I have a pension and I only save enough dosh each year to pay my tax bill in January. From next month I'll be getting less income each month (long and complicated story, but some of my revenue from selling my business was deferred, and this comes to an end next month). So I need to stop buying things on a whim. I am a terrible whim-buyer - I see things I like and I buy them, without really thinking twice. Stupid stuff like coffees I don't really need, a new umbrella because it's prettier than my old one, another lipstick that's identical to one I already own but a different brand etc etc. If frittering money away was an Olympic sport I'd ace it. So I've started a new budget - actually written down all my outgoings on a spreadsheet and given myself a fixed sum each month to spend on crap clothes, beauty etc. It's not much but it should be enough to get by. Just to prove I'm down with the zeitgeist, I'm calling it Mindful Spending.
Read more books
I make this resolution every year. It's pretty obvious. Stop pissing time away on Facebook at night and instead spend more time with my Kindle. Specifically I'd like to read some more classics, rather than just stuff that's in the bestseller lists. I didn't do English A Level (and I call myself a writer - shock horror!) and there are some serious gaps in my reading that I'd like to fill (Oli was disgusted to hear that I'd never read Wuthering Heights last week when we were watching the Bronte programme on BBC... *hangs head in shame*).
Sort out my career
Ah the biggie! I am trying, honestly. I have been totally lost in sleep-deprived motherhood career-wise and I have so many thoughts on it all that I'd love to clarify in my own mind (do I try to find a full-time job? set up another company? continue freelancing in an industry that inconsiderately decided to die on its arse while I was off having a baby? retrain as a librarian? (seriously, have been considering this!) if not then what what what?) and then share, but I don't have time because, well, I'm a mother. So yes, more soon. Hopefully. Once Daph's settled into the childminder!
To sleep, perchance to dream... if bloody only
My beautiful little sleep thief
It's 2017 folks! I'm feeling cautiously optimistic. Usually for new year I make a whole load of decisions about life and how I'm going to handle things going forward, and I start new projects and generally feel motivated to make changes. But this year I haven't had the energy. Mostly, I have realised, this is because I am obsessed with Daphne's sleep. Or more specifically, her lovely new habit: early rising.
It's beyond ironic that you can dream for months of your baby sleeping through the night, believing that once that happens, everything will be fine and dandy and you will be reborn, back to your old self, fizzing with energy all day. HA. Daphne does indeed now sleep through the night, and it's great. To a degree. However, the unwanted side effect of this is that she now thinks the day should start at around 5.20am. And there ain't no getting her back to sleep after that time (we have tried EVERYTHING but unless we get up with her, she screams and screams).
Having my day start with a 5 basically makes me feel like I am permanently jetlagged. It is far more exhausting than being woken in the night. I would actually go back to a 2am wake up, if it meant that the day didn't have to start till 7am, or even 7.30 (what a treat!). It's been suggested that I should adjust my own sleep schedule to accommodate it (going to bed at 9pm or whatever - ugh) but I really do believe that biologically people are wired differently. I am a night owl, and my most alert and awake times are in the evening, after dinner - it's the time I do most of my creative writing. Before I had a baby if I woke before 8, I'd feel pretty knackered for the day. My body clock just does not agree with super early mornings, and when they're pitch dark and freezing, as the heating hasn't even come on yet, then they're even more hideous.
I won't bore you any more with what I've been trying to sort this problem out until I find something that works. When I do, I'm going to patent that shit and market it to all the other sleep-deprived parents of toddlers and make my fortune. This morning she slept til 6am, so there is hope. I think. I pray. I am so jealous of people whose babies sleep from 7pm-7am every night. I am SO jealous. And I don't get jealous.
Good things about 2017: Daphne starts at the childminder's next week. I will have a whole day per week to myself to work. I need to finish my novel, and that really must take priority, but I also desperately want to get another project off the ground that's been bugging me for nearly a year now, and also decide what on earth I am going to do with this blog. But like I said, before my brain can wrap its knackered matter around that little lot, I need to sort out this sleep thing. So please please please - wish me luck (and leave me any suggestions you think might work!)!
Merry Christmas!
When we did our NCT course, the lady running it asked everyone what they were most looking forward to about having a child, and I remember replying 'I only had a child for Christmas' which is a terribly glib and dickheadish thing to say but it was genuinely a major factor for me. I loved Christmas as a kid (yeah, really unusual there I know) and I couldn't imagine growing old and not having a child to share all the joy and magic with (although I don't believe in lying to kids about Father Christmas, but that's a post for another day - Oli and I are already at war about it!). I have therefore been in my element over the past few days and am so excited that this year we are hosting my parents and my sister and having a big family Christmas day in our new house. We actually open all our presents on Christmas Eve, so really Christmas Eve is our Christmas Day, and this year on Christmas Day we're heading off for lunch at Oli's brother's house. So we get two Christmasses!
Last year Daph was too tiny to have any idea what the hell was going on, so we didn't really get her any presents, but this year we've gone a bit batshit and she has her very own personalised Christmas sack and about 30 stocking presents, plus a Mokee Teepee which I can't wait to set up. She's already had a few presents thanks to my aunt and uncle and has definitely got the idea that ripping wrapping paper from things is enormously fun, so I am sure she's going to love opening everything. Whether or not she plays with any of the millions of carefully selected gifts is another matter, but I've realised that pretty much everything about having a baby is trial and error. Will report back...
Before then however, there's a hell of a lot of prep to do and I really need to get off the computer and start cleaning. But just wanted to say merry Christmas to all of you who read this, and send all the mummies in particular lots of alcohol and sausage rolls to get you through the festive season! I'm going to have a little break from blogging until the new year (hands up who can't wait to see the back of 2016?) and so I wish you all a very happy new year too!
And most of all a big THANK YOU for reading and commenting and stopping this working-from-home-sort-of-stay-at-home mum from losing my mind with loneliness. Mwah xxx
Midweek Musings: Life updates
Long time no blog. I apologise. If I'm honest, I've been a bit stuck for topics. Now Daphne is older, there isn't so much to write about her on a regular basis (although she's changing all the time, of course, it's all quite subtle now and we've settled into a reasonably happy routine). I'd love to blog about the house but the truth is we've done a big fat NADA to it since we moved in. I don't know how people manage to do up houses with babies/jobs/lives.
But here are a few little updates, just to reassure you I haven't died:
- We have found a childminder! From January, Daphne will be going to a lovely lady in the village next to ours for one day per week. Even this feels slightly traumatic/scary, but at the same time, incredibly exciting as it means a whole day to myself to do whatever I like! Well, mostly work, of course, but still. I will have time to reply to emails, to plan stuff, to get ahead, to work on my book... I cannot wait.
- I have finished the first draft of my novel. It's a bit of a mess (a massive mess in fact) but still, I'm really pleased as now I finally know what the story is about, and how to fix it. I had my critiquing session with my group at the Faber Academy last week (we share our first 5000 words with each other and give feedback) and it went really well, which was reassuring. I am sure it's super boring reading on a blog about someone working on a book, but I have and I'm afraid it has been taking up most of my headspace lately, leaving little room for anything else. But I'm going to have a bit of a break from it over Christmas, and then get stuck in with the redraft in January. If anyone's interested as to what it's about, let's just say it's about new motherhood not turning out exactly how someone had planned...
- And on that note... I've been having a real think about the blog lately. When I first started blogging after Daph was born, it was as an outlet for all the experiences I was going through that felt so alien and new. But now I feel a bit more sorted (not much, but a bit) and also more like I should stop with the oversharing, as if I'm honest, I don't think it'll help me try to relaunch a career (more on that in a minute). So I'm trying to work out how the blog can fit into this new way of thinking. I don't go to glamorous events anymore. My restaurant review days are well and truly over. My life on a day to day basis is incredibly mundane. I'm not one of those supermums who does crafts round the clock with their offspring, providing plenty of blog fodder. I could blog more about interiors, but somehow that doesn't feel like it fits with the content I already have on here (plus there are a gazillion interiors blogs out there already). So yes. I need to make some decisions. I want to know what people find (and don't find) interesting, so if you fancy sharing what YOU want to read about, that would be awesome and very helpful. I try to be honest about motherhood, and these posts do seem to be the most popular, but then I worry I sound like a right moaner... Generally it seems my real life friends like reading the personal stuff as a way of keeping up to date with my life when everyone's so busy, but for those who don't, I'm sure it's a massive snorefest. Pondering pondering... and open to suggestions!
- Careers. Hmm, I shouldn't write much about this really, but I am feeling so so saddened by the state of my former industry (magazine journalism). I haven't done proper journalism for ages now, just bits and bobs here and there, but still, it was a bloody awesome job while it lasted. I found out the other day that the interiors website I worked on for four years from launch has been rebranded and basically turned into a shadow of its former self, with loads of staff being made redundant. I nearly wept! It is crazy how journalism has just died a death thanks to the internet. So yes, in 2017 I need to start making some firm decisions about what the hell I am going to focus on for the rest of my working life. SCARY stuff. I have written a list of priorities for my new career, top of which is not having to commute into London every day. More on that soon...