Don’t worry, there may be a lot of oversharing but there isn’t any ‘new year, new me’ bollocks in here, promise. Unless you fell over dramatically or bent down and your leggings split showing the whole gym your arse, I don’t care about your ‘new year new me’ workouts. Come back to me in two weeks when you’ve given up and want to talk about normal things again.
One week before Christmas, I moved house.
“Wow, that’s bad timing!” you might think, and it probably was, but after over a year of basically living between two places 70 miles apart I finally found a house to rent. It is big enough for me and the kids and it has a garden, parking and isn’t a total shithole, and quite honestly I would have moved in on Christmas day had that been the only option.
I had a little over two days to move my things and get settled before the kids came to stay for the first time.
This was minus my car, which I’d crashed two days beforehand and written off in the process; you really couldn’t make it up. As you can imagine, those two and a half days involved a whirlwind of packing, unpacking, shopping for everything I hadn’t really considered I’d need like can openers and curtain hooks, and of course building a mass of Ikea furniture.
The pinnacle of the two days was the construction* of two Småstad cabin beds which I’d promised to the children in order to get them a bit excited about the move.
To add to the drama of the week, having ordered the beds back in early November, Ikea kindly cancelled on me the day before they were supposed to arrive which would have left my kids without anywhere to sleep over Christmas; decidedly not ideal.
Sheila at Ikea customer services was clearly having a bad day as she was very much giving no shits about anything. Fortunately after gearing up for a fight, the in-store customer services sorted it out like some kind of Christmas miracle. Credit where credit is due, the Ikea Reading staff were fab, but I hope Sheila got a turd in her stocking.
If you have never put together one of these cabin beds but are tempted, then just know that it’s something of a ‘challenge’ and by ‘challenge’ I mean that if you build one with someone else then make sure you have a strong relationship because this may break you. You will laugh, you will cry, you will invent new and creative ways of swearing*. You will end up with more cardboard than you will ever be able to recycle; a full garage-worth. However, after just seven or so short hours, it was done.
I put these LED lights around the underside and the kids went NUTS for their disco beds, so it was worth it.
(For me. For my partner, possibly not).
The week leading up to Christmas was nice.
The kids were excited about the new house but to their dismay we spent most of our time out and about. We got a Christmas tree, we squeezed in a trip to Peppa Pig World, and thanks to my friends who stepped in to help me out, I even managed to get a temporary car in time to take us all to my sister’s on Christmas day.
I spent the following week while they were away sorting the house out, getting my amazing new huge sofa of dreams in situ**, and then the kids were back for the weekend.
This week the children are with their dad, as they haven’t moved schools yet.
It’s complicated, it isn’t what I wanted or what I believe is best in any way, but it is only temporary and I don’t have the mental capacity – or, more importantly, the money – to fight it. They won’t be with me in the week for a while, and I need to get used to that.
Not having to deal with school runs for a while does have its upsides.
No alarms, no fights about getting shoes on, no lost school books, no arguments over cereal, no mad hunts for matching socks. I will not miss any of that. And, with no one else to worry about this week, and nowhere particular to be, I’ve decided that it’s time to start to slowly come off the crazy pills.
The main reason is vanity, really. I’ve put on two and a half stone in under a year – and I’m so lethargic I just can’t seem to do anything about it. I have the best intentions when I wake up, but no energy or willpower at all. I feel at this point that being on antidepressants is causing me more stress than it’s saving and if I follow along this trajectory I won’t have any clothes out of all the ones filling the five (yes, five) fitted wardrobes that happen to be in my new bedroom.
It’s not a resolution – I hate the very idea – but it’s something I need to do and now seems to be a good a time as any to try.
I’m on day four now of a half dose and I feel OK for someone who is likely to be 70 miles away from their kids during the week for at least a few months, but I really could sleep for England.
I went to bed around half ten and woke up at half nine two days in a row, but only because I was woken by the doorbell and the bin men; goodness knows when I would have stayed asleep until.
I can barely concentrate on anything; I’m astounded I managed to write this although it did take me the best part of a day. Oh and I made cup of tea with cold water after failing to switch the kettle on. TWICE.
But honestly, I am OK.
I have great friends, and an amazing partner, and I am getting by. And really, OK is pretty damn good in the circumstances, I think.
*In a supervisory capacity. Really, I barely helped and I owe my partner a total debt of gratitude.
**It was kindly gifted to me by Out and Out as part of a collaboration on the ‘Gram, and is the biggest and best sofa I’ve ever parked my bum on. You could quite happily sit six people on it, only I don’t know that many people around here yet.
Properly brought a tear to my eye that. Thank you for sharing Fran, you’ll soon have people to Sibton the sofa, you’re such a lovely person.
You’re not far from me now. Reading ikea is fun….really.
The old woman who owns our house died. Her next of kin want their inheritance not the responsibility of being landlords so our home of 5 years is being sold.
I work part time (nursery age kids) and have a good credit record. O/h works full time but has crap credit record. Letting agencies don’t want to know us.
We have to be out in 10 days…..being homeless with infants is not fun. Parent’s spare room for us it is then!
Feeling like a failure as an adult & parent right now.
It’s nice to read relatable blog post, however, I’m sorry you’re dealing with *everything* right now. Here’s to a calmer 2022 💕
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