A new adventure?

It’s very easy to plod through life, happy (or not so) with your lot. Knowing, perhaps, that it’s not quite everything it could be but its safe, secure, easy. It may not fulfil, it may not excite or engage you, but its ticking a few boxes so we’ll keep going until it either makes or breaks us. I’m terrified of this. I’m a mum, I have a mouth other than my own to feed, another person to house and care for, all I need is a wage… isn’t it? I’ve spent 6 years working for a place that doesn’t engage me, doesn’t appreciate the breadth of my abilities and certainly doesn’t appreciate me as a human being. But it pays me, it allows me to do something I don’t completely hate and I do work with some lovely people (most of whom, I can assume, feel similarly to myself).
Mr Right works there too. He certainly feels as unfulfilled as I do. We’ve talked at great length about how we feel and what might help, never coming up with any satisfactory solutions.
Now, let me change direction a moment, the little one had been to stay with my parents and Mr Right and I were off to pick her up. As we often do when coming back from my family, we stopped off to break the journey (3 hours is a long drive for a 3 year old to endure, although she so often does it amazingly!) and took a stroll through a small country town for an exploration of a park we had both played in as children ourselves. We walked past a beautiful shopfront. Victorian. Mosaic paved front. Glass corner display. Signs in the window: “Do you want to own this business?”. I called to Mr R to stop and have a look. A photographer had set herself up here 5 years ago having moved from another premise which she had occupied for 7 years. She was highly successful in the area but was calling it a day as she was expecting her first child and wants to dedicate herself fully to her impending role as ‘Mum’. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it previously but Mr R is a stunning photographer and immensely passionate about creative arts, especially digital media. This studio is fully equipped, fully furnished and has an 18 month lease left on the premises. This business holds immense potential for the buyer (providing they’re nifty with a camera!). This business holds immense potential for us.
Mr Right and I finally had the moving in together conversation a month or two back and although, due to all sorts of other circumstances, we know we aren’t in a position to do so right away, it is something we hope to do in the not too distant future. It would, however, involved buying a new property for the three of us. Neither of our current houses will work, for various reasons. This business, and the prospect of working in a completely new location and environment, specifically this location, could open may doors for us in regard to our dreams of living in the area we both have our hearts set on.
We visited the shop on Saturday. Spoke at great length with the lady who runs the business. Loved it. The building, the work, the town. It all felt, so damn right. I am trying, desperately to not get my hopes up. I’m trying to hold it all lightly and know that what will be will be… but I’m asking that anyone who might read this post with hope, pray, wish… for us to pull this off. I don’t want to carry on with the easy, I want the great. And this could well be it.
We’re yet to put our offer in, she’s received two already (both below our own intended figure). She has another viewing tomorrow. We’re keeping everything crossed. We’re waiting until we have all the information (she’s still to supply her books). We’re hoping and we’re dreaming.

Trust is a wonderful thing in relationships

I’m going to touch on two topics I’ve previously written about; Mr Right’s passion for his cars, and the ever expanding trust between us. Last week Mr Right and I had lunch and I brought up a topic we’d briefly mentioned in the past, my driving his car. Now, Mr Right loves his cars, they hold a huge amount of sentimental value to him. He has always stated that he’d never hand over keys to his classic car. This is mainly due to the immense amount of work on the engine making it ridiculously powerful for its size and weight and his concern for driver rather than car, but still, I would of rather hurt myself than put a scratch on it’s glorious paintwork. Before Christmas he decided to ‘retire’ his glittering beauty so as to purchase an estate that could safely carry me and my munchkin (and all the paraphernalia that comes with a toddler).
Saturday night, having run round the garden playing with munchkin and some other kids, I found Mr Right checking out what it would cost to add me onto his insurance, within about half an hour I was legally allowed to drive his fancy new car.
I’ve written about how I’ve put my life in his hands, but last weekend he put his life, and his cherished black beast, in my hands when he put me behind the wheel. As he has put it, he knew he could trust me because my most cherished possession was asleep in the back seat. I added that my other most cherished possession was sitting right beside me.

The best things in life are free… But we still have to work hard for them

Mr Right came into my life for free, but here we are, working hard to make sure we get it right. I had this long call with Mumma Bear the other day. We talked about all sorts of stuff. I chatted out a load of the great things, looked deeper at the things that are bringing me to life.
I’ve discovered that things don’t just “be perfect” they “become perfect”, but even then you’ve got to work to keep them perfect. I don’t need to bend over backwards, change or morph to make things seem right. If you talk things through, share what’s good AND what’s not, open your heart, you mind and your soul… then pour in time and effort… then, THEN, you can truly stand a chance of reaching perfect.
It can be really difficult to change your mentality. For a really long time I thought I could project perfect onto my relationships. I thought that that was the hard work it took to make something work. It’s only very recently I’ve worked out that, in fact, that was a sure fire way of driving myself into the ground and ultimately causing my last relationship (the one with my daughter’s father) to fail. I didn’t really assess our compatibility as the story of how we met, how we fell in love and how we came together was too good not to be true right?! That’s what showed what love was, how many hurdles you overcame, how many “awwww”s you got when you told your story, that right isn’t it? No. Just no. Love is that feeling in your heart, head and soul. That you just know. That you can’t question. And that you just CANNOT live without. But love asks you to commit, to work; blood, sweat and tears, to invest. If you’re willing you really can have it all.
Today Mr Right took us (munchkin too) out into the countryside as the weather was divine (17’C after weeks of shivering) and we all needed the vitamin D! On our way back to the car we had to go down a very steep, scrambley path. He picked up my daughter and, as she always does, she asked to be passed to me. Not in an “I don’t want to be with you” way, but she’s just mummy’s girl. But all he needed to say was that I was still right there, and she settled in his arms and against his chest. Can’t blame her, he he! And even when we reached the bottom and the flat she stayed tucked in close. Full on snuggles followed, big cuddles between my little miss and my Mr Right. Glorious moment on a glorious day. Hugs and kisses all round, my heart melted.
It’s taken us some time, each of us to readjust to our new dynamic, but probably little miss most of all. How do you explain to a child, not yet three, the intricacies of a dissolving marriage and new found, fuller love? I’ve talked her about it, she’s intuitive too, and ever so intelligent… but she doesn’t know yet what it feels like to be trapped in a marriage without the strength of love to make it work (and I hope she never has too). She doesn’t yet know how it feels to have your heart beat out of your chest when the love of your life is near you. Emotions are so complex, it’s so hard to explain, they are only meant to be felt. But clearly she feels our family is knitting together as much as I do. We’re getting there. Baby steps…

Two celebrations in one month

So the other day we (Mr Perfect, munchkin and me) went over to friends to watch the six nations. Mr Perfect and I started looking at some dates, remembering that we got together after a 6 nations match. Nearly a year later we’ve managed to work out our anniversary, 23rd February. So just over a week between St Val’s and our 1st anniversary.
Can’t quite believe how quickly this last year has flown, how much has happened, how much has grown.
Mainly I can only talk for myself, I have grown. So much. I’ve found a lot of inner strength, discovered a lot about myself, learnt to look beyond “realist” and into “perfect”.
That sounds a little rose tinted. I am a realist, always have been, but I’m learning that realistic doesn’t need to mean settling for mediocre. I’m realistic with my relationship with Mr Right, we know that relationships come with ups and downs, trials and tribulations. But we’ve had our fair share of the bad stuff in previous relationships and we are pretty upfront and honest about how to avoid pitfalls, and about what we want to bring forward.
Hard work, communication, honesty.
I’ve never spoken with a partner in the way that Mr P and I can talk to each other. I’m vested in the fact that these things can hold us together.

Had I the cloths of heaven

Back in September a friend passed away. I worked with him for 5 years. He was the gentlest, kindest, most passionate teacher you could find.
He inspired so many pupils as both a music and a literature teacher, and equally inspired his colleagues.
Last night we held a memorial concert. We wanted to celebrate his life and his loves. His tastes were varied, eclectic, classic and contemporary. The evening brought smiles to the 400+ faces who joined together in his honour as we were shown snippets of his passions through the dozen or so musical and literary performances.
I left inspired and heartbroken that someone who still had so much to give had been taken far too soon. Mr Palomar1 (as he was known by his twitter followers) died very suddenly in his forties when he had so much left to give.
I couldn’t possibly explain the many facets to him in a blog post but the guests last night each came with their own memories, love and insight to this wonderful man.
We’ll miss you Jon, but you’re legacy will live in us as we try to radiate your passion for teaching.

Trust, you find I when you face your fears

I have two phobias; fish (or at lease close contact with the scaly critters) and falling. I’ve faced the fish phobia in past, still not a great fan of the little blighters, by snorkelling and sea swimming. The falling one though, I face that a couple of times a week and it continues to haunt me. It turns out, though, that I seem to be getting past that one.

It was around ten years ago that I stopped climbing. Before then I had been learning to lead climb. A part of that training was to experience your partner falling whilst you belated; no problem. When it came to my partner having to experience my fall it took her and the instructor around 20 minutes to coax me off the wall. I may have been climbing for almost all my life but falling is something I have only experienced on VERY few occasions. When I restarted climbing around a year ago it was something I had to explain to my new partner, and ask for their patience. I started with bouldering, something that I hadn’t done prior to my dry spell. The thing about bouldering, especially indoors, is you don’t top out (get over the top) you either have to back climb or jump. I back climbed for months, I may have only been a few feet high but that was still enough to terrify. Slowly I have gotten used to jumping down, having back climbed until it was safe to do so obviously!

I will happily cling to a wall until the last ounce of strength leaves my fingers. I hate the sensation of falling. HATE it, turns my stomach.

Until last night.

I was following Mr Right up a new route. Huge overhang. If I was coming down, I was dropping. Even if I finished the route the angle of the rope was going to mean I would find myself dangling out in the middle of the converted warehouse, about 100ft off the ground, probably 50ft away from the walls. I somehow hadn’t twigged this until I was already halfway along the route. Shit.

But this time, I just closed my eyes and let go. I swung away from the wall like some human pendulum. 100ft out, back to the wall, back out in the room, back to the wall, the swinging began to ease and Mr Right lowered me down. A lot of swearing, but you know what? It wasn’t that bad. The man I loved had a hold of me the whole time. The fear was kind of absent. The trust took over. His hands were holding me, even if it was on the other end of a rope several metres below. He was there.

There is no way that I could of done it with out him. My trust in him is, essentially, unfaltering. He has shown me how far he is willing to go for me and mine (see my previous post about the car!), and that only builds trust.

I trust him with my life and health several times a week. I wouldn’t do that with just anyone.

Commitment is a car

Mr Right drives a restored and modified vintage car. It is his utter pride and joy, it’s practically a part of who he is, he loves it and all it can do… And it’s being parked in the garage semi permanently. He has decided to put Minda (the car) away for a rest and invest in a more family appropriate car. It’s better than a ring when demonstrating commitment from him. He has tried to say he needs a bigger boot for his bouldering mat but he isn’t fooling anyone. He has said quite plainly he wants something safer for the little one and has said that it would be good to be able to fit a buggy in the car (my current buggy has been retired as little one isn’t that little anymore – but I’m trying not to read too much into that).
His devotion to me and my girl has been continual and unstoppable, demonstrated by greater and greater gestures. The sheer scale of the sacrifice/compromise/decision makes me simultaneously guilty and glow with happiness. I have completely changed his direction and I must keep reminding myself that he has done it willingly, knowingly, whole heartedly and because he believes in us as much as I do. He hasn’t just ‘sacrificed’ he chose. I have ‘sacrificed’ things because I chose him too, decided that what I have with him is worth more and worth investing in.

Second guessing

I spend a huge part of my life trying to work out what people want or need from me and then pump all my energy into becoming that thing. Put like this I sound shallow and even manipulative, I’m neither of those things. I am devoted and heartfelt and wholesome but I can lose me in amongst my desires to be needed.
I feel immensely privileged to finally find myself in a relationship where I can just be myself. With someone who accepts all my flaws and craziness and loves me for who I am not what I can do or be for them.
Thing is I still want to ask for more. I want him to move in with me and my daughter. I don’t know how to bring it up, how to ask for what I want, how to get past the bits and pieces that would make it hard.
I’m a bit lost, need to find my balls, find the words and the way.

Come here…

Another glorious little love song, Come Here by Cass Fox

Come here in the morning
Come when you’re tired out
Come here with your restlessness
And I will calm you down

Come here as the dawn breaks
Come and lay down by my side
Come here with your restlessness
And I will calm you down

Because it feels like home
when you are near

Oh, when I’m in this place
Will you keep me safe?
For the nights?
Hold on now
Hold on now…

Take care where you’re going
Doing all those things you do
Even when you’re away from me
I’m the closest thing to you

Come here when it’s over
When you think you’ve lost your way
Come here with your restlessness
And I will calm you down

Because it feels like home
when you are near

Oh, when I’m in this place
Will you keep me safe?
For the nights?
Hold on now
Hold on now…

Then will you hold me
Then will you lay me down
And never leave
All my nights
I’ll go where you go

Oh, when I’m in this place
Will you keep me safe?
For the nights?
Hold on now
Hold on now…

Poetry in motion as far as I’m concerned. Poetry full stop mind! It’s the feeling of love isn’t it?

Good day

I’m feeling very proud of Mr Right and my little misses. I’ve recently had a lot of work done on my kitchen and as a result the entire house is coated in a thick layer of dust and is generally disordered. My attempts at tidying and cleaning have been thwarted at every turn by a very interested, enthusiastic, but ultimately unhelpful, toddler. Feeling a bit bummed out yesterday by the whole state of my house Mr Right took pity on me and offered to take the little one out for a couple of hours. He’s never taken her on his own before so this was a pretty big step for the both of them.

He opted for a shared favourite activity, climbing, the munchkin and I toddled over to his house this morning. We’d talked about what she was going to do today and that I needed to make the house nice, so she was pretty keen to see him. She hopped into the car needing very little persuasion and off they went. Happy as Larry!

Back home I went to hoover, mop, mop some more, hoover again, mop one last time, wipe down all surfaces, take out the rubbish, stack up the dusty crockery to be washed, put all the seat cushions in the washing machine, put a load of clothes in the washing machine, wipe down a few more surfaces, hoover the next room and stairs, put away pipe cleaners, rubber bands, jigsaw puzzles, cuddly toys, discarded clothes, rearrange the sofa cushions, wipe down even more surfaces, roast a chicken and make two pasta bakes… and finally make a cup of tea! Productive doesn’t begin to cut it. Somehow the kitchen still looks as though someone emptied a bag of plaster and set off a leaf blower but it’s ten times better than it was. It’s safe to cook in there now and after 5 nights of eating out/take away/at someone else’s house, I’m feeling pretty pleased.

Nearly three hours later the adventurers return. Big grins on their faces and a happy meal balloon clutched tightly in one of their hands (I’ll leave it up to you to guess whose!). Climbing was a win, they both managed to get some routes done, helped of course by the obligatory chocolate and juice carton. The lunch at McD’s was a win too, although Mr Right has learnt that ice creams are best bought after happy meals if the happy meal is going to be eaten at least warm! Learning curve I guess!

My two favourite people are getting along swimmingly, bonding brilliantly and generally being fantastic. I couldn’t be a prouder mum and partner.