Tag Archives: change

12th June 2009


Pregnant and messy.


Two minutes later: clothed, pregnant and even more messy. (Are you starting to see how my house got turned into a shit tip?)


Doing it all at once

When I fell pregnant, we weren’t really expecting it.

Yes we were trying for it but we didn’t really believe it could happen.

As I got fatter though, we realised that our living situation wasn’t ideal and that we would have to move before the baby was born so we started house hunting.

In order to remember the houses we viewed, we took pictures.  Or tried to when we remembered.

This was one of the bedrooms:


Yes, they had left an old tumble drier in the corner of the room.

How not to do it.  This particular house was a bit of a building site actually and not great for the price. 

Then we viewed my great aunts house.

My great aunt died of Ovarian cancer the day after Jade Goody died.

Her last words were “I just want to be with Bert.” (Her husband and my great uncle who passed away.)  She was a very strong and brave woman and fought even when they told her there was nothing they could or would do because of her age.

Her house was ideally situated for work, it had the right number of bedrooms and had been well looked after.


It had masses of storage space but sadly was outside our budget.

The house was left as my great aunt left it, which as you can see meant that it continued to look lived in.

The dangers of blogging

I fear I may have made a bit of a faux pas.

You see, the other day, I emailed someone who is quite central to some very important decisions for me (a similar thing happened last time I was on mat leave) but I left the link to my blog on the replying email.

Then I had someone go through my entire blog.  Cue Paranoia.

Paranoia:It was her, she read through your blog.  It’s why she hasn’t replied.

Rational: she’s busy.  That’s why she hasn’t replied.  And her being busy is a good thing.

Paranoia: She’s decided she wouldn’t want someone with your temperament sullying the good name of the occupation.

Rational: Ok, so you had some shit days.  We all have shit days.  So what?  You just aren’t afraid to talk about them.

Paranoia: She’s sorting out a visit from social.

Rational: Even your health visitor isn’t doing that! She’s most likely talking to some people in the area so she can give you more info.

Paranoia: You’ve totally screwed up your chances.

Rational: The blog is about personal stuff.  Not business.  Business would require a new email which is unrelated.

So, should I censor what I write about? No. This is my space which gives me my freedom to write about my opinions. No one should be able to take that away.

Should I go careful before sending emails with the blog address in the signature? For sure.

Lesson learned.

52 weeks

As I will be discussing some work related bits and bobs over the next few weeks and don’t want to keep repeating myself, tonight’s blog is to tell you about my maternity arrangement with my employer.

I started my current job in February 2009 as a temp.  There were some politics involved in my appointment but they are for another post.

Anyway, I was pregnant at the time and, as I’d suffered as part of the first wave of recession redundancies, was just glad to have a job.  They made me a permanent member of staff on the 1st of April 2009.

I left for maternity leave the first time on 17th July 2009 but didn’t qualify for maternity pat from them, so I claimed statutory maternity from the government for 9 months and returned to work three days a week in April 2010.

This time, I left for maternity on the 11th of April 2011 and as I had served over a year (they count maternity leave as continuous employment) I qualified for full pay for six months…provided I return and serve 52 weeks.

So, there you have it.  We needed the full pay, so I had to promise to go back for 52 weeks.  If I decide not to return now, I have to pay back everything paid to me above statutory, including pre tax and tax and NI deductions.

I think I made the wrong decision.

Saturday 23rd July

I had plans for the weekend.  You see, on the 29th we have our lodger moving in. So everything needs to be ready and in place before then.

We have a medium-sized 3 bed house with two double rooms and a single.  The Toddler had the single room, we had one of the doubles and the other double room was supposed to have been an office/study/craft room.  Well, that dream faded when we realised we had nowhere to dump years worth of crap. The room became this.

I tried numerous times to clear it.  It wasn’t even at its worst when that pic was taken.  So, when we decided our financial situation and The Change dictated we would need a lodger, we had to rethink.

The lodger has agreed to having the single room and the children would both take the junk room.  After it was cleared obvs.

We have known about the lodger coming for around three months.  I have been desperately trying to persuade OH to clear that room during this time.  Even to the point where his mum came round while I was heavily pregnant with O and we cleared 11 boxes of his shit…

My plans for the weekend mainly consisted of sleeping, food shopping on a budget and a car boot sale early tomorrow morning.

Alas, I have been thwarted again as I overheard:

“…yes, tomorrow we are going to move Toddler into the spare room…”

Spoken by OH on the phone on Friday night.

We are, are we? Three months of trying to persuade you to pull your finger out of your arse and get it done and you decide to spring it on me with less than 24 hours notice?

This is the story of my life.

So I spent all Saturday feeding, moving furniture, cooking lunch and settling a Toddler in a new room.  At NO POINT did I get a nap, lie in or snooze and the shopping still remains…well, unshopped.  For this reason, I was “treated” to a pizza tonight.  I’ve told him he will have to find something to sell to make up the price of the pizza.  And we didn’t get up early enough to do the carboot sale. For fucks sake.

On the plus side, the room does look amazing.  Shame we had to scatter the stuff semi-strategically around the rest of the house!

The Change from the beginning

The big day looms.  Our household of four is soon to become 5.

NOOO I’m NOT having another baby (yet – still have to persuade OH!)

Our friend is moving in with us.

Today I’m going to talk about WHY.  And the WHY is The Big Change.

2011 has turned out to be the Year of Change for our little group of friends, but The Change is part of a chain reaction which I actually kicked off 5 years ago.

When I met OH and we were working in the same place (oh yeah…I will have to tell you about this too) he was in the process of buying a house with his best friend S.  His best friend is in the army and was getting posted out across the world regularly.  When he came home, he would stay with OH’s mum and dad (where OH was also living) so they decided it was time they bought a house.  The arrangement suited them as it meant that OH could get on the property ladder and S would have somewhere to go when he came home.

I didn’t live with OH and S for a long time.  I moved in, and then moved back out again after a fight with S (he actually asked me to come back – not OH).  they paid the mortgage and I rented a room from them.  It worked well…until I got my first blue line on the pee test.

It wasn’t really practical for us to continue living the way we were.  The house (we’ll call it AR) isn’t really the biggest house.  It had three bedrooms, but it was tiny.  It had a downstairs bathroom, which I hated.  Laminate flooring throughout.  It was basically a bachelor pad,  Fine for 2 men and a tom boy, but not so great for babies.  OH decided we would move.

We looked into the possibility of buying AR but quickly discounted that idea for the reasons about and many others. Then we looked at the possibility of S buying OH out and us moving.  The housing market had just crashed, which was highly unfortunate for this part of the transaction as it meant that there was no equity in the house and banks were lending much less.  OH was unable to remove his name from the mortgage as the bank would not let S take on the entire outstanding amount due to a shortfall of about £4000.  He also had to walk away from his initial investment of £10k.

It was a hard decision to make. even though S was paying the mortgage in its entirety after this, it was always a worry as once your name is on the mortgage, whether you actually physically pay for it or not is irrelevant.  If the payments go into arrears, it’s your neck on the line.  And there is no way to write your way out of this.  even if your solicitor writes you a letter to say you are not paying anything towards the mortgage, if it goes to court, you are still liable.  We asked.  It’s shit and was very scary for us as we were taking on another mortgage and couldn’t afford two if something went wrong.

As S didn’t want AR to be empty when he was posted, he asked one of our mutual friends N to move in.

I like N.  He’s awesome.  He’s a good guy.

Life carried on like this for a while and then S met L.

L is originally from Canada.  She’s a lovely, bubbly, very cute girl.  She fit straight in with  our group.  Funny, sweet and good for S, it wasn’t long before she moved in with them.  Then, around 3 months ago, S gets told he is getting posted to Italy.

He didn’t want to leave L here but the only way for them to go together was for them to be married. Cue The Wedding.

Now, N isn’t paying a massive amount of rent to S.  Afterall, he only has one room in the hose.  S knew he could get a lot more renting to a family so, after they couldn’t find anyone else to move in with N he is having to move out.  It made me sad to see the rental sign outside the house that was my home for two years before we moved here, but that is the way life goes.

N is now coming here to become our 5th member.

The time before the day before

OH was the Best Man for The Wedding and as such, it was his duty to arrange the stag night. The stag night was last Tuesday. Yes, the day before the wedding…

This time, the stag night consisted of a curry and a couple of pints in a local (So I’m informed) but last time…well, last time he went to a stag it wasn’t quite so simple.

It was in the days before children. I have always suffered from insecurity and depression, which was normally set off by my appearance and worrying I would never be good enough for whoever I was with.

This stag night was the typical stag night; meal, drinks and then strip club.

I won’t go into details about what other people got up to at this stag night but I do know that there were refusals for dances.

OH came home and I was already in bed. I asked him if he had had a dance and he said yes. Ok ten points for honesty, but really? I remember I smacked him. In fact, I flew at him, seeing red in that very instant. He went on to say it had been a topless dance purchased by his friend.

I asked why he hadn’t refused. He said he didn’t know.

That night almost ended our relationship. I stayed at the house that night and then packed my stuff and went back to mums. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get that one dance with some random girl dangling her (probably much larger than mine) boobies in his face had set me back about 5 years in my insecurities and it was going to take some hard work to rebuild.

I don’t remember how long we stayed away from each other. I knew I needed time to heal from this latest blow as I felt like I’d been betrayed, stabbed through the heart. I’ve always trusted OH implicitly and never thought he would have been able to hurt me like that. Then BAM. He did.

I tore up the cards he gave me, and threw my engagement ring at him.

Finally, one night, I relented and went back. We talked. A lot. We probably cuddled. We may have even taken it further. I don’t remember. All I know is that I’m still wary when a stag night is mentioned, even though my circumstances are totally different now.

I’m glad I went back. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have had my children, my house and a very supportive man in my life who may be lazy, but seems to agree with even my most hairbrained schemes!