A maze of praise

Someone said something nice about me the other day. In public. In fact, on Twitter.
Now, don't get me wrong - although it may sometimes feel like it, I don't in fact spend my days defending myself from verbal brickbats and people are often perfectly pleasant.
But when I read this comment, which was about my supportive nature, my immediate reaction was "That's nice, but they don't know me very well at all."
It's an interesting reaction, for me, at least. Partly because in fact I pride myself on being supportive and kind and on my empathy. It's one of the facets of my personality that I genuinely like. Yet I couldn't accept that someone else could recognise that in me.
It's one of the things I am working on. Like recognising the positives - including the fact that today was tough, workwise, but I'm proud of how I dealt with it.
I am determined to keep working on it, and everything else. I see my lovely therapist on Saturday for the first time in ages, and I'm desperate to make it into a positive session of strategies rather than an update on all the woe.
There is still plenty of woe. There are still those moments where I think I'm going to get swept over by the force of it, where I find myself fighting for breath in the maelstrom of self-loathing. But I haven't given into it for a while. So rather than beating myself up on the times that I have lost balance in the midst of the storm, I'm concentrating on the times I've clung on.
I know I said it in my last post, and I'm reassured by the response, but I'm so ready to move on from this. I don't want any more days when the thought of being at home makes me throat constrict.
I want to get better. I want my life back. And I will get there, one small step at a time.

End of an era

Miss T has had her last day at pre-school. In September, she will join the reception class of the primary school on the same site.
Of course, this is not a surprise to me. It's not like I suddenly woke up and she'd grown up.
But that's what it feels like. It's unbelievable that I have a four-year-old daughter. That the beautiful, funny, clever little girl who skipped along the road in front of me on the way back from school last week is part of me.
It's hard to connect her with the 'mewling and puking' baby I remember from those darkest of days.
But it's also hard to think that more than four years on, in some ways I am still no further forward. I am still searching for that chink of light in the darkness.
Of course, I know that is related to the arrival of baby D, and that before that we had made amazing progress. But the heights we had reached seem a long way off at the moment.
Battling this illness is just that - a battle. It's a constant uphill climb in search of the sun. And if you relax your grip on the cliff face, it's easy to slip back down. Or to find the ground has shifted without you noticing.
I am trying to see the positives; and Miss T is one giant positive. Baby D's radiant grin, so readily given whatever the time of day or night, and whatever else he may be going through, is another one. Both are the ropes I cling to every day.
I'm slowly learning they are what is important. I'm slowly learning from them to find the joy in the moment and the wonder in the world. I'm learning to follow their example and sieze every opportunity for fun.
And I hope, in time, with those lessons will come some peace.

12 weeks

If I'd written this post on Tuesday, when it was technically due, it would have been a very different one.
But sometimes it can be worth missing a deadline - just don't tell my editor that!
Today has been a good day. Sure, there was a bit of a hitch in the middle and some frustration I could have done without, but on the whole I've been amazed at the change in my perceptions.
I'd love to report that the shift is down to a new enthusiasm for life as a mum of two, but it's much more predictable than that. There are no prizes for guessing my renewed optimism comes after a visit to my workplace.
I'm not ashamed that I had/have PND and I'm also not ashamed to say that I love my job. I worked hard for my career and I am good at what I do. There is no shame in enjoying my life out of the house. It's a balance I struggled with when I had Miss T but this time I know that time away from the children makes my time with them better.
Today I was in the office to discuss my return to work in May, and the possibility of working some days before then.
All went well and it felt so good to be me again - working Liz, a respected colleague and person in her own right.
Even better, after the meeting (and some added catching-up time), it felt good to be headed for home and my two little ones. Usually I drive homewards with a heavy heart, knowing the drudgery that awaits, but this afternoon I couldn't wait to see their little faces and to spend time chatting and cuddling.
Of course, this doesn't mean that everything in the garden (or house!) is rosy.
There are still issues, still dark days, still tears. I'm keeping a mood diary for my therapist which is an interesting experience. When I fill it in at the end of the day, when the children are sleeping peacefully, it's easy to see the positives. But if I were to complete an entry for each hour or each section of the day, I think it would paint a different story.
One of the lowest points of this week was a comment from Miss T, that the worst bit of her day was when I wouldn't read her a story because I was trying to get baby D to go to sleep. I can remember the moment clearly. He was refusing to sleep in his cot, I had already been up and downstairs seven times, and she asked if I could read to her. My answer was that I would when he was asleep. But he didn't sleep. So she didn't get her story.
The scenario was the perfect example of what I hoped to avoid, and what I dread happening. I don't want Miss T to remember moments like that. I want her to remember a childhood of love, laughter and fun.
Rationally, I know those good moments will probably outweigh the bad, but it's like a punch to hear her say that, and another reminder that I still have a long way to go.
However, today, for the first time, I could see the road I have to travel, and I believed I had the fuel to get me there.

Hopes

Another slightly belated post, sorry!
So it's now almost mid-January, but I'm still optimistic enough to think of hopes for the new year, and indeed the new decade. They are not resolutions, because my resolve is weak, especially when confronted by chocolate biscuits, but simply hopes that I would like to become reality.
I hope to find some sort of work/life balance that works for me, my job and my family this year. I don't expect it to be the same balance that works for others, and I'm sure it will seem precariously perched to many, but I want a ratio that allows me time to pursue my professional ambitions (that sounds grander than they are!) and to play with glitter as well. If I get time to do a bit of housework and even some cooking, that would be a bonus. Probably. Although actually, I did both at the weekend and really quite enjoyed it.
I hope to be the best I can be. The best mum, the best wife, the best friend, the best sister etc etc (fill in as appropriate to you - if you don't know me, then I hope to be the best blogger I can be for you!). Note the disclaimer - the best I can be. I hope to finally be able to totally let go of my quest for perfection and accept that my best is good enough. And there's nothing wrong with good enough.
I hope to have fun. Maybe with glitter, maybe by indulging in a bit of office practical joking, maybe over wine with friends, but I hope to remember to make room in my life for things that are just for fun.
I hope to be healthy. We all know this means more exercise and less chocolate so enough said.
That's probably it. There are other, smaller goals, and other, bigger ones, but they can all be slotted in to the above hopes. And after hearing that an old school friend of mine died from cancer on New Year's Eve aged just 30, I hope to remember that sometimes just being here and remembering to be grateful for it is enough.

Three years, and counting

It's a frantic time of year, but Miss T's third birthday seemed a good opportunity for a reflective blog post. Of course, that's not necessarily how this will turn out...
It was actually her birthday a few days ago, but work and Christmas got in the way!
So let's look back over the last three years.
That's easy to do simply by scrolling through these blog entries, where the journey from mad mummy to today's saner version is clear to see, via happy pills and the lovely therapist.
But there have been lots of changes to the lovely three-year-old Miss T over those years as well, of course. And in many ways that is the more incredible journey. I still find it hard to work out how this chatty, funny, clever, stubborn child grew from the helpless and passive infant. Although, to be fair, she was desperate to talk almost from day one.
We have some lovely days together, although bizarrely most of those are when we are alone. I still find it difficult to fully immerse myself in mum mode when there are people around (by people I mean family - of course I don't ignore her in crowded shopping centres!). Part of that is because she has such fun with other people that I like to hang back and let her get on with it rather than interjecting with "mummy moments" like "Please say pardon, not what," or "Try to use your nice voice when you are asking for something, and don't forget to say please,". But if we have a whole day to ourselves it is often a real joy - something I never would have imagined three years ago. Whatever we do, from cooking to painting or even shopping, we share some very special moments.
Perhaps some of that is because whole days of just mummy and Miss T are quite rare because of work.
Actually, not that rare - we have Wednesdays and most weekends. It's fine. It's just different from what I expected. But that's okay too.
That's one of the biggest changes of all in these three years - I can go with the flow a lot more. I don't have any long-term career plan, any long-term family plan, not even a plan for the rest of this week (besides work and Christmas!).
But that's okay. And that's the best bit of all, from someone who used to have to-do lists for every single day that often started with "Get up, have a shower, have breakfast...." and continued right through to "Clean teeth, go to bed".
It's amazing how I have changed, and amazing how she has changed, and she still surprises me every day. I hope I can continue to surprise myself as well.

(((hug)))

This post was nearly all sorts of things. It started as a report of my first experience of a birthday party for one of Miss T's school friends - we survived even though I had to text her mum first to ask how old she was, and I didn't know anyone's name.
Then it was a pensive post about health issues, or the lack of them, after news that yet another friend has spent time in hospital with their child - there have been admissions for pneumonia, swine flu and minor operations but we are yet to set foot inside a hospital with Miss T.
Then I considered updating you all the latest challenging behaviours she has come up with and how we are dealing with them.

But then I got this hug.
And suddenly none of that mattered.

It's things like this that make me realise just how far we've come. When I come home from work and a minute later am engrossed in a conversation about school and her friends, or she has grabbed her farm set for some special snuggle time (don't ask me why we need the farm to snuggle, but it's become a tradition) I realise it doesn't matter that some things don't go to plan. What's so great about planning anyway?
So we haven't managed to ride the Santa train this year even though I wanted it to be our special family tradition. We've been for a snowy walk to look at Christmas lights instead and made a unique Christmas cake featuring marshmallows. Yes, marshmallows. Again, don't ask.
So there are still times when I am so frustrated I could cry (and sometimes I do) and I forget she is not behaving badly on purpose (most of the time). A good cuddle fixes it all.
It's something I'm going to try to remember in future.

The pursuit of perfection

Why is it so hard for me when things don't go to plan?
Don't answer that question!
Actually, although today has been a challenge, hence this rare midweek post, it could have been a lot worse.
But I do find it difficult when I don't live up to my own expectations. I know I can do things so much better, and be so much better, and when things largely outside my control intervene it's hugely frustrating.
On the positive side: I can recognise that it's my own expectations that lead to the feeling of pressure and disappointment when something goes wrong. I know that if they do go wrong it's not because I am a bad person or useless or stupid.
On the negative side: I still need to work on handling that disappointment and pressure in the moment. And avoiding it in the future. And it is still a battle to prevent it becoming an all-consuming, crushing emotion.
But tomorrow is another day, and for that I am grateful. I am also grateful for this blog as an outlet for these self-indulgent ramblings, and to you, my long-suffering readers!

"I didn't realise you were a mum...."

That's a comment I've heard quite a few times lately and I'm puzzled by it.
Mostly it's at my new place of work and I can think of several reasons for it, when I think logically:
1) We're so busy we don't really have time to get into deep personal conversations.
2) There's no room on my desk for photos, although Miss T is my screensaver - but I've always got programmes open on the screen.
3) I often stay late, so people assume I have no nursery pick-up etc to do (when the truth is that the ever-helpful grandparents are on duty, again...)
But it does bother me, if I'm in a tired and emotional state. Do I not seem motherly? And when they find out I do have a daughter, and a small one at that, their shocked expressions seem to indicate that I should be at home rather than pursuing a career.
It's a fact that the industry I work in can be male-dominated, perhaps because it demands unsocial hours that are difficult to do with children if there are no ever-helpful grandparents on hand, but one of my new colleagues has two small children and no one seems to express surprise to her.
Perhaps part of it is my fault - in the same way I saw my pregnancy as irrelevant to my work and was irritated by the constant questions whenever I was out trying to do my job, Miss T is not part of my working day, although I often miss being with her.
But I simply don't have time to engage the office in fascinating discussions about her latest achievements, and nor does anyone else.
That may sound harsh and I'm sure my work-life balance would not work for everyone. Nor do I think it will necessarily work for me for the next 20 years. But for now, working hard and playing hard (with Miss T on my days off) is an approach that works for me.
When I'm at work, I'm totally at work. Hours can whizz by with no thoughts of lost shoes, the school run or bedtime battles popping into my head. Of course, this is only possible because I know she's 100 per cent safe and happy with Mark, my parents, or our chidminder and I'm incredibly grateful for all of them for allowing me to concentrate on work.
But when I'm at home, and Tasha is awake, I'm totally at home. Since signing the contract for my new role, meaning I could give up most of my freelance commitments, I don't let work intrude on my days off and I try to give her my full attention, which means we have had some lovely days together.
It also means that there are few evenings out with Mark and weekends away are a rare luxury. Actually, not a luxury - almost a trial. I don't want time away from her. I want to spend time with her.
How bizarre it feels to be writing those words, on this blog!

thoughts

I had a bit of a significant moment last night.
I accepted I am not and never will be a perfect parent.
It may not sound like much, but it's a massive achievement for me as perfection has been a theme of my life for as long as I can remember.
I also accepted that actually, I'm not doing so bad.
But it's sad that again it took someone else's (perceived) poor parenting to allow me to realise my own strengths.
I won't go into details, partly because I still find it so sad, but it's another case of people who can't accept that a child changes your life. You make a decision to have them, whether they were planned or not, and it's your responsibility to live with that decision and its consequences.
In the same way as when Miss T chooses to ignore warnings about teasing the dog and ends up losing a brick from her jar, if you choose to bring up a child you live with the fact that things will never be the same again.
In my opinion, this means Saturdays spent shopping are off the agenda for a good few years, nights down the pub are a rarity and only possible when babysitters are available, and holidays mean family time rather than the previous heady mix of alcohol, culture and shopping.
Not everyone shares my opinion, and that's fine, but I'm glad I can say I put my child first.
In other news, I'm still working on that elusive skill of keeping my mouth shut but sometimes I feel it's important to speak out.
There was a good example of that this week when I overheard a comment from someone who couldn't understand why a 26-year-old with clinical depression would want to commit suicide. They were using the classic argument that he had everything to live for and many people are much worse off. Both statements may be true, but I tried to put forward to viewpoint that he wouldn't be able to realise that and it wasn't as simple as snapping out of it. I'm not sure I got through, but at least I tried...

I'm back! With apologies and an update...

Hello!
And so sorry for lack of posts. I've sat down to do it so many times but then something else has got in the way, be it small child, hairy animal or work.
As usual, the lack of posts is actually a good sign - I know if there had been burning issues swelling around my head I would have made time to let them out here.
Of course there have been difficult times but there have also been positive times in the month since I last updated you all. I really can't believe it's been so long!
So where were we?
The nightmare playgroup visit...well, of course we went back but we also tried another one which I much prefer. It's a lot friendlier, a lot less cliquey and feels a lot less judgemental. Plus there are more children and a lot more room which means it's more fun for Miss T, who has started asking to go.
We've started a new "behaviour shaping" method where she earns bricks in a jar for being good and loses them for bad behaviour. When she has enough she earns a fun treat, and so far it's working well. She hates the idea of losing bricks and loves the treats so it's a great motivator and better than the naughty step, which was losing its impact.
I'm enjoying my time with her a lot more than I ever thought possible, and I'm realising - finally - that these days will never return.
In fact, as the work situation improves slightly (I have picked up some regular freelance shifts which provide much-needed income), I find myself yearning for those lazy days of painting, park and playing. We'd both got used to the idea of chilling out and getting ready in our own time so the first morning we had to be out of the house by 8am was a bit of a shock!
Of course, I'm loving being back in a newsroom. It's what I do, it's who I am. As much as I've enjoyed being a stay at home parent, I can't deny my need to write. Part of me is a bit sad that it's meant I have eased off on other plans but I have to be realistic and work with the opportunites that present themselves. There's no need to do everything at once, as a good friend of mine would say!
However I do have some concerns, especially in the light of my renewed positive mental health. I'm very much an all-or-nothing person, in work and in other areas, and I am finding it hard not to get sucked back in to the all-hours culture of a newsroom. There have already been some signs, like attending evening jobs which I'm not technically paid for, and working late. It's easy to put these down to doing a good job, especially as I've very grateful to my new colleagues for giving me the opportunity to use my skills and earn more money. But I'm trying hard to remember to say no, and make decisions with my family in mind as well as my work.
That's about it for now, and sorry it's a bit vague but at least it's a sign things are going well, I think...I'll try to be back within a month this time!

A calm week?

So it's been a week without posting.
And while that may be dull for you lot, it does, in general, mean that things have calmed down here. I haven't felt that burning urge to get everything out here before I explode.
Of course that doesn't mean we have been existing in a pink and fluffy world all week, sadly. There have been tears and tantrums, but luckily only from the toddler and I have been able to deal with them in a calm and consistent manner, mostly.
It is hard work, it's such hard work that it's difficult to explain to anyone who doesn't share their house with a wilful and intelligent toddler. You simply can't have a lazy day where you let things slide because the results are hellish for days. You have to keep on top of the behaviour, ideally in a calm and consistent fashion, with warnings and choices and consequences. It's exhausting.
We're on holiday at the moment, and while it's fantastic to be exploring a place as beautiful as where we are staying, it's bittersweet for me because there's not much change from my life at home.
Mark has a week without work to look forward to, but mine has come with me - although only for today, hopefully. And my day to day life at home involves much the same as days on holiday so it's hard to see it as a break.
However it is lovely to be able to share family time together so enough of the moans. As well as keeping on top of toddler tantrums (and I'm not sure I can really call her a toddler any more!), we're having some great conversations and this has been the first holiday where she has really understood what is going on and has been excited about it, which is fantastic. I am actually looking forward to some of the activities we have planned together, rather than thinking of ways to escape and plan time for myself, which is a huge achievement for me.
There's not really anything else to say at the moment so I hope this short update will suffice for now. Fear not, if another crisis looms, you will most definitely hear about it!

An end to the catastrophising?

But another excuse to use that word!
So we survived our afternoon, mostly. The chores were completed, the plants were planted and there was another witching hour strop but without the shouting from me this time.
I'm almost glad she had another meltdown moment because although it was, as it usually is, difficult to deal with, at least it showed I could deal with it without heading for the hills.
Since then, things have returned to a calmer state (on my part, at least - she is definitely demonstrating her two-year-old frustrations and opinions!), perhaps because Mark took a day off and is not back at work until Tuesday.
I am trying to remind myself of an important lesson that I had forgotten, that of picking your battles. It does help when I find myself saying no for the 50th time in a day...
And, it has to be said, I do feel a bit foolish for my over-reaction, or indeed, catastrophising, of the shouting incident. But that's how I felt at the time and I have little control over that, as I think I demonstrated!
Another companion of that good old black dog seems to be neediness - whenever he is around and the fog descends I need reassurance, and I need it quickly! I have been known to post on internet forums and then sit there refreshing and refreshing the page waiting for someone to reply. And if they don't within, oh, about five minutes, I have even posted again, reiterating whatever crisis I am having.
I'm not proud of it, I'm not proud of any of it, but I do accept it and I hope that helps in dealing with it.
Oh well, at least this latest episode has ensured a return to the central theme of this blog, which I hope will hope any new readers who may have wondered why they were here.
But for my sake, I hope the calm stretch lasts a bit so I can return to fluffier blogging!

Spring is in the air...

....and that should gladden the heart, but it doesn't, for some reason. Sigh.
Maybe it's because those evil weather people are already predicting that it won't last.
Maybe it's because I have a week ahead with not much on. That's not as much of a problem as it used to be, but it is still a daunting thought. Actually, it's more the thought of the energy I need to keep motivating myself to do things with Miss T instead of humphing around feeling sorry for myself that is daunting.
I'm afraid I was rather lacking in that energy this weekend. It should have been great, as I had my review with my lovely therapist on Saturday and as predicted, she was mightily impressed - although not surprised - with my progress and how I have dealt with things since we last met.
Then we had a lovely afternoon, with Miss T chosing some beautiful new hot pink shoes and a catch-up dinner with old friends.
But on Sunday we had to attend an event I had been dreading, a toddler's birthday party. Now, as I have a toddler of my own there is no reason why this should fill me with dread. And indeed, it wasn't really the toddlers who were the problem, but the parents.
Actually, to be completely frank, it wasn't even the parents, it was me. I felt judged and observed, just like the bad old days, and also like those days, people seemed to want to discuss nothing but their children. Which often included statements about how fulfilled they felt or how wonderful it was. And I lost count of how many times I was asked about having another one.
But of course, we survived, and all was fine. And the sun is shining, and we had a lovely time at playgym this morning. And I have one more hour of her sleep left so had best get on with some work!

Just an update...

It's been a while, and apologies for that. The simple fact is that my time on the computer is limited to when Miss T is asleep, or out (not by herself, obviously!), and as there are people paying me to do stuff that involves using it, that has to be the priority.
Sorry.
So where was I?
Ah yes - positive thinking! Well, it's still in place, which I find surprising. I was just thinking back over the last few weeks, working out what to write, and actually, we've had some really good times.
Of course, we've had some frustrating, tear-your-hair-out-count-to-50-and-put-the-kettle-on moments too, but what parent of a two-year-old doesn't?
I'm still enjoying the time I get to spend with Miss T, and almost feel a bit resentful that I have paid work to do which means we have to be apart.
Almost! Actually, I also really enjoy the time to work and to focus on new things, many of which are so different and challenging and exciting. Of course, there's still the transcription job from hell in the background but even that is progressing!
I know that part of the reason for my renewed enjoyment of parenthood is the changes in Miss T herself - we have some great conversations, and she is growing in independence by the day. That is not always a positive thing, especially not when it comes to getting dressed or attempting to do something with her hair, but it does mean she can amuse herself and play with her toys for a good 20 minutes or so, giving me a bit extra space in the day.
It does make me think though - maybe I'm just not a baby person? I've always enjoyed my goddaughters more the older they have got.
Oops - I'm starting to ramble now, and this was supposed to be a quick post!
Those of you who remember my long-winded debate about whether or not I needed to see my lovely therapist again may be interested to know she got in touch to say she could not remember if we had agreed to have a review about now. So continuing with my new 'going with the flow' thinking, I've arranged one. At the risk of sounding all mumbojumboistic again, I can't help feeling there was a reason she got in touch (beyond wondering if we were supposed to have a review!) and it would be churlish of me to ignore it.
But maybe I'm just mad!

Dilemma...but a good one?

So I'm confused. And while I hate that - of course I do, the very state of mind indicates a lack of control! - I can see that actually there are positives to be had, as usual.
I was going to offer this particular dilemma up here as a sort of poll, but I think actually the decision has been made. But any further input would be welcomed, even if it's to tell me I'm mad (although I already know that!).
Right. Let's get to it.
So I'm still job-hunting. Although I admit to doing so with less gusto than a few months ago as I start to focus instead on myself as a business and the freelance work I have been getting, plus other similar opportunities in the future.
And this week I somehow found myself with three interviews lined up - all of which have come to me, rather than me applying via any formal process.
I had the first one yesterday, one is tomorrow and one on Thursday. If I'm honest, the one on Thursday would always have been my first choice - it's reasonably local, hours to suit and would allow me to use my writing skills while developing new ones.
But the first company I saw have already offered me the position. And I think I'm going to turn them down.
Not just because I like the sound of the Thursday job more, or even because I think I stand more chance of getting either of the other two.
Not even because it's further away than the other two so means more travelling and more money in petrol.
I'm going to turn it down - even in this economic climate - because they want me to work full time and won't consider anything less.
Does that make me mad?
Three years ago, probably even a year ago, and probably five years from now I would say yes in a flash.
But now I want to spend time with my little girl before she is not so little.
I never thought I would be even considering turning down work - and paid work at that - in favour of spending time with the child I used to refer to as "that baby". Work was my escape, my focus, my reason for carrying on.
But as I continue to adjust to this with-child life, and continue to learn to enjoy it, I realise that actually that won't work for me any more.
In fact, a full time job, 45 minutes from home, would probably have more negative effects on my precious little family than no job at all.
Just the thought of the mountains of housework to do in evenings and at weekends, the friends to squeeze in or lose touch with, the activities we'll miss makes me feel like a failure so the reality would definitely stress me out.
Because of this economic climate I will wait until after the other interviews before making my final final decision, because after all any job at this point in time is better than no job. Probably. Maybe.
Who knows?!

Things to celebrate...

1) For the second day in a row, Miss T declared that she wanted to go to bed for a nap, then actually went to sleep!

2) Yesterday, for the first time, she said "Thank you mummy" after I handed her something she wanted - without being prompted! (she also told off the decorator in my parents' house after he successfully negotiated her piles of toys and books on his way though but didn't say "Excuse me please...")

3) I have no idea what I'm doing next week - and I'm not that bothered!

If you're not impressed by all that, well, you should be! It's somewhat scary for me to read back that last point but it's true. The temp work I have been doing looks like it will come to an end on Friday and although I have several irons in the fire, or fingers in pies, or whichever cliche you prefer, I have no idea where my next pay cheque will come from.

But that's okay. Because at the moment I'm happy to let things happen. Without getting all spiritualistic/mumbojumboistic on you all, I'm starting to believe that old mantra that things happen for a reason. I've learnt some great skills from my temping placement and made some great contacts but I think it's time to move on. I may return later, or I may not. Who knows?

Equally, as I venture tentatively into the frankly terrifying world of self-employment (I'm practising hard at not thinking about cash sheets and ledgers and other things that involve numbers....), I'm making some interesting contacts there and there's a strong possibility that things will turn out okay. Or maybe even better than okay.

And perhaps the best bit? I'm making some great friends along the way!

So there are definitely plenty of things to celebrate!

New year thoughts

Okay, I know I'm a day late but we were busy yesterday, introducing another new family tradition - a visit to the New Year's Day parade in London. I can highly recommend it. But I'd also recommend you wear at least three pairs of socks and take a flask - two simply weren't enough!
Another tradition at this time of year is to get all thoughtful and reflective about the year just ended, and share hopes and aspirations for the next one.
I'm sure many of you who trawl this blog regularly don't share my next thought, but I wish it had been in existence for more than six months. It would then be much easier to reflect on the days and months gone by. A bit like those newspaper reviews of the year that are used over the festive period to fill space....
Oops, nearly got off topic again...
Unfortunately I don't have a year's worth of blog posts to refer to (did I just hear a collective sigh of relief?!) so I'll have to rely on my memory.
Some things are simple. Last year I had a job I loved and one that I thought I would be doing forever.
But forever is a very long time, and I'm no longer sure that would have been the best option.
Of course, as we all know, it didn't work out that way anyway and I am working on lots of different options for this year, some very exciting indeed. It may all be things I want to do forever, but actually, at the moment, for now will do me just as well.
One thing I can refer to is my old diaries. Not as in Anne Frank, or even Adrian Mole, but bog-standard appointment ones. And last year's was crammed full. So was the year before. If it wasn't doctors' appointments it was my lovely therapist, and if not them then my life-saving friends. I literally relied on them to keep me going and in one piece. All of them.
Things may be different this year. That's not to say I don't want to see people any more - I still need a weekly dose of coffee and cake to keep me sane - but I no longer need them in the same way.
Take today; the first day Mark's been back at work since before Christmas. Tash and I went to play gym this morning (again with no make-up on, and I even forgot to put on my necklace and earrings which was going to be my token attempt at making an effort!), then came home, then walked the dogs, then had lunch and now she's asleep. I have no plans for this afternoon. We may go shopping, we may do some painting (particularly with some of the mess-free water painting kits her aunts got her!), we may just read some books and chill out.
That simply wouldn't have been possible a year ago. Every hour of my day had to be filled with more than just her and I was petrified of being alone with her. Now I even enjoy it - sometimes!
Of course I still get moments - no longer whole days, but sometimes hours - when I wonder what the hell I am doing, and wish it would all go away. But as she grows up and more of her personality emerges, most vociferously at times, I can actually see myself doing this parenting thing for ever.
That may sound strange, but during the really dark times I did think it was all only temporary - any minute now someone would come and take her away, or take me away; I didn't really care which.
Perhaps the most important change as we start 2009 is that I can see more of the old Liz returning - or maybe a new, updated version.
PND Liz is still around, but more shadowy and a lot quieter. It's easy to shut her up with a good dose of common sense, most of the time.
I don't think I'll ever get all of old Liz back, or get rid of PND Liz completely, but maybe new Liz can be a good combination of the two.
I'm sure you'll all let me know if she's not!

Terrible twos - or two's company?

So as I mentioned, Miss T has reached that milestone of her second birthday.
And so have we, relatively unscathed. At the moment, at least...
And as well as a turning point in her life, the seemingly random date of December 24, 2008, was earmarked as the time to discuss the next steps in our lives.
Namely, the question of more children.
Life being what it is, we haven't actually had that conversation yet but we both know it's waiting to be had.
So in a bid to be more prepared I thought I would attempt to sort out some of my thoughts - I'm always up for a challenge...
I've said before that we've always seen ourselves as a family of four. And that doesn't include any furry additions!
So the next step for us would of course be another baby.
But is our blueprint for our lives a good enough reason for such an upheaval?
Why do people have more children? Would it be for Miss T, for us, or something else? And is it fair to her, or us?
Some of my friends who are on their second are coming out of those early months of chaos and seem to be reaping the benefits - their children can entertain each other and provide company for each other.
But trips out for coffee and cake are becoming more of a rarity!
It is perhaps testimony to how well they have managed that I have been able to think about having my fantastic contraceptive implant removed without breaking into a cold sweat. But of course that isn't the same as thinking about being the parent of two...
And I can see that my work situation at the moment, which is leaning towards the freelance/self-employed route, is very flexible and so perhaps ideal for adding to our family.
But at the same time the thought of the reality of another baby is frankly terrifying.
If I am completely honest, I am not sure our relationship would survive another bout of PND with the added pressure of a pre-schooler to look after. Or that I would.
Of course, there is no guarantee that it would all happen again. And of course there would be a support network in place already.
So is it fair to deprive Miss t of a sibling, and Mark of another child because I'm scared of something that may not even happen?
I don't know yet. I'll let you know if I work it out!

Progress?

Lucky people - two posts in two days! Although it took me three days to write the last one, so technically it should be two posts in a week...
Anyway!
I feel the need to record tonight's happenings because I am proud of how I handled it. And who knows, tomorrow I might need something to refer back to!
It was another bedtime which didn't go exactly to plan, although it started very well. Miss T asked to go up for her bath, we had lots of fun, got ready for bed with no problems.
Things began to go awry during story time when instead of listening intently to the tale of a little rabbit who is looking for the moon she began chatting animatedly about her day.
And the situation deteriorated when I tucked her up and went downstairs - the usual 30 second complaint was stretched out more and more and interspersed with plaintive "mummy come up" and "mummy cuddle" requests.
Typically, it just happened to be one of those nights when I have a to-do list that could keep me busy for weeks and Mark is at work till late.
So what did I do? Well option 1 was to hope she would settle by herself, and steel myself for up to half an hour of misery.
I did that for 10 minutes, and became more and more stressed with the thought of all the things I needed to be doing, and the possibility that she might keep this up all evening.
I even sent a few miserable texts out in the hope some magical fairy would come up with a solution.
None was forthcoming, of course so I made a decision. Shocking, I know!
I went upstairs, gave her lots of kisses, resisted her pleas to pick her up, told her it was bedtime and went back down.
And guess what? It worked! By the time I had got back down to my lengthy list, peace had settled on the house (apart from the hungry cats wailing for their tea...but that's a whole other blog!).
It may not sound that significant - after all, parents across the land get their children to sleep every day. And so do I, mostly.
But this incident had the potential to turn into one of those wallowing moments where we both end up in tears and no one is in control.
I am proud I took the decision to take control, and that I was able to go upstairs calmly and confidently - it isn't always so, believe me!
So - there you go. Little steps on the road back to sanity...and further away from the happy pills.