Not with a bang but a whimper

My job at The Splat Centre started off well, I enjoyed the buzz of being involved in something new in my community.  It was fun being part of setting something up.  I loved the part of the job that involved interacting with the kids which, too be honest, I had anticipated being a much bigger part of the duties than it ended up.

But I didn't like the level of disorganisation  that persisted well beyond "teething problems". And if I'm honest I never really felt like I fitted in, I felt like I didn't always get the jokes, and wondered at times if the jokes were at my expense.  I was told initially that I would get between 10 and 20 hours a week, and I ended up with 15 and a half.  It wasn't enough, but I hoped once we had been open a while and the need for more staff hours became evident, that I would be given some more.  We all realised pretty quickly that we needed more staff members, and I was one of the ones at the forefront, saying we needed more staff if we were going to be able to interact with the children, read them stories and lead craft activities. 

So we got a new staff member and I promptly lost one of my shifts and an hour off the end of another.  From 15 and a half down to 9 hours in one whooshing move.  I was upset and disappointed and also rather angry.  I discovered that the new staff member and all but one other of the existing staff members were under 21 and therefore their minimum wage was a pound an hour less than mine, so actually for Splat it made better business sense to give more hours to those who cost less.  But obviously for me it made no financial sense as all.  So when the opportunity came along, at about the same time, to become a host family for Home Language International, I jumped at it.  (More about HLI in the following post)

I handed in my notice at Splat, and got a surprisingly disappointed response - I had thought that they would be happy to see me go as I had felt so at odds with everyone there - but they were sad to see me go and wished me luck.  I was very relieved to not have to work there any more.  Not because I didn't like the place, not because they were horrible people.  Just because it was SO disorganised, and I do not like to have somebody else's poor organisation skills reflect badly on me!!

Greenwhich

It feels like a very long time ago, but in real calendar terms it's not.  It was May, the flowers were blossoming and the weather was pretty good.  And I was feeling pretty good because it was one of my favourite weekends of the year - the weekend I meet up with friends and we have some good old fashioned child free, guilt free, footloose and fancy free time!

This year we went to Greenwich, which I love and bought flooding back memories of when I was working in Narrow Street and would often spend time in Greenwich on the weekends, mostly mooching around the fabulous market. We stayed cheap and cheerful in a travel lodge, but it was a new build and so everything was shiny and new, and the staff were wonderful.  There was a slight hitch to the usual child free aspect to the weekend, and we ended up having baby Beth with us - this was never going to present any problems, and in fact went the other way and further added to the convivial atmosphere.  I love this gorgeous god child of mine and was I like a pig in the proverbial being able to cuddle and amuse her for 3 days.

We walked, we talked, we shopped.

We shopped, we walked, we talked.

We talked, we shopped, we walked.

We tried to help each other with problems, endlessly searching out that Eureka! moment.

Needing some time away from your family sounds selfish.  But it is not.  It allows you to rebuild your strength, reminds you of the independent, free thinking individual you once were, and in fact, still are.  That individual is the foundation of the wife and mother that we now are.  Without that individual we could not be the amazing, selfless, tireless, loving members of a family that we now are.






Ahem.

  Don't you hate when life gets in the way of doing the stuff you really want to do?

I seem to spend an awful lot of time composing blog posts in my head, while I allow my body to get on with the tedious "must dos" of keeping a busy family on track, well fed, clean and assisting in the financial ebb and flow.  Which is great in a "aren't I a talented, multi-tasking goddess sort of a woman" way and also not great in that they never get to escape the confines of my head.  I compose, I tweak, I thesaursise.  Then when I am finally at liberty to set the words down, I am so exhausted that all I am able to do is to stare vacantly at the television for half an hour, until I stumble up to bed. 

And then the next day, all the lovely words have flown. 

 I'm left with a vague sense of what I wanted to to say, and perhaps one word floating aimlessly, a balloon nudging at the ceiling, not quiet as bright as those that seized the release of dream time, to escape.