Bring me sunshine

Isn't it funny how life turns out? For the record, I never imagined - not for a second - that I'd be married with two kids and living in Cheshire. But then, I never envisaged living in Dundee either. I suppose what I've done is just let life happen to me. I was never the kind of kid who thought about my wedding day or what I'd do later on. I simply just got on with living.

I did have plans for my 40s, but I've given up making plans. Obviously my life isn't meant to be like that, but the best thing about now, is that I'm starting to enjoy it for the first time. Having the second baby has meant that I have to go with the flow. And that attitude is starting to seep into other areas of my thinking so that I'm not able to push at life. I'm just doing my hardest to be the best I can be on the day. It's tiring making to do lists and forever never finishing them. The striving is very exhausting. I can't say for sure that I'm done with that way of thinking, but I'll try.

I've had alot of hardship and made a point of telling my friends about that. So now I'm always trying to be sure to tell everyone when I'm happy. And today I'm happy.

Yours

Lucy

A woman's work....

Getting up twice a night to feed a small squally son tends to make my creative juices run rather dry, hence the lack of posting. It's the normal early baby chaos: there are piles of washing in various states everywhere, cat litter all over the landing and sheets that SERIOUSLY need changing. I won't go on, you get the less-than-fragrant picture.

I've long held the opinion that it's nearly impossible to look after everyone, have a clean house, clean clothes and a general state of domestic calm AND work creatively at the same time. There's something about the repetitive tedium of domestic tasks that dampens the creative spark. Or at least it always has done in me. Which means I haven't written anything fiction related for several months.

What is interesting is a very old, dear friend of mine (my mentor in book publishing, waaay back in the day) has similar issues but the key thing is - she's ALSO working. And writing and being published at that.

So I'm right, you can't to do it all. The answer is a) staff - what I wouldn't give for a general housekeeper-cum-nanny or b) let it all fall as it may and get the creative stuff done. Unfortunately, I hate mess so feel compelled to tidy up even if it means shoving stuff randomly in cupboards which drives Dr G mad.

Not sure what to add to that, except, thank god for my cleaners.
Lucy

The converse of 'In the Loop'

As breastfeeding means I sit down alot, I've been reading alot. I read somewhere that everything influences your milk (probably rubbish but hey, who knows?) so I've been reading macho books every so often, like 'The Requiem Shark' about Black Bart the pirate (brilliant if you haven't read it), and 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' by Hemingway.

I've never really gotten along with Hemingway, too misogynist for my tastes, so it's slow going, but on page 47 I found the antidote to Malcolm Tucker.

Originally printed in 1941, they obviously thought swear words far too racy so here's a snippet:

'...we blow up an obscene bridge and then have to obscenely well obscenity ourselves off these mountains...Go to the unprintable... and unprint thyself!'

How fab. This sorts out swearing in front of children!

So I'll unprint off, and obscenely post again soon,

Lucy

Forgive my tardiness, it's been a busy time

Once again, here I am, apologising for lack of posting. But I'm sure this time you'll understand when the reason is having a baby.

Suffice to say, the op went well, the surgeon was great (all the midwives keep saying 'very neat scar' which I hope is true), and the medical staff at Macclesfield Maternity Unit were/are fab.

At risk of sounding like I'm at an award ceremony, I'd like to thank everyone for the cards, presents, flowers, emails, comments and blog postings. We're all doing just fine but our state of wellness is def helped by the fact that bouquets of flowers keep arriving along with parcels, cards etc etc.

I didn't forget you while this was going on, and will write more about the joys of pain relief later, I just wanted to share one thing. Amongst the many 'moments' over the last week, one stands out, which was when I realised that there was nothing better I could be doing other than looking after my new son.

Yes, I know women across time have all felt this, but I haven't. It's rare for me not to be considering what else I should be doing, how many other tasks I could and should be cramming into my day.

But not right now. Right now, I'm doing the best, only and single most important activity there is. I believe it's called 'living in the moment'. And you know what, it feels great.

Lucy

Film review: Lock, Stock and 2 smoking comic movies

As Dr G was out last night, and I keep getting told to sit down, I indulged in my favour pastime of watching several films at once, in this case:

- Lock, Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels

- Spiderman 3

- X-men 3

The last two are decidedly pants. Spidey inexplicably jive walking and then breaking into a very suspect dance routine about 2/3 of the way through did it for me. Halle Berrie's crap super power (weather!) never fails to make me snort with derision. But as I had control of the remote for a change, I simply hopped to another channel whenever I got bored.

I do this when I can't be bothered to think. It's the film watching equivalent of finger food - hop from plate to plate and back again. If you get lucky, you'll hop at the right time and see the significant parts so you can follow the stories.

It helps that I've seen 'Lock, Stock' loads of times. I do love a good caper movie and despite Guy Ritchie's inability to make another decent film (unlike his producer, Matthew Vaughn) this is definitely a good caper movie. I like this film, it doesn't quite make my top 5 but it's def worth revisiting from time to time, for the soundtrack and entirely quotable script if nothing else: 'It's a deal, it's a steal, it's sale of the f*cking century....'.

I remember bumping into an old mate who had worked on it. She hated every minute of it, it was an end-to-end lads' party much like you see on screen, and only came together in the edit apparently. She claimed it drove her out of the film business into alternative therapies, but then you have to take film gossip with a pinch of salt.

If you haven't seen it, then Matthew Vaughn's 'Layer Cake' is good too, def Daniel Craig's calling card for Bond. It got slated but the only thing I can see wrong with it is Michael Gambon and his dodgy tan.

Lucy

Film Review: 'In the F*cking Loop'

Having managed to make it out together, without Madam in tow yesterday, our last day on our own for who knows how long, we went to the pictures to see 'In the Loop'.

I say we were on our own, but while 2 people went out, there were really 3 of us there. Which means junior has had his first education in gratuitous swearing by someone other than his mother and he's not even out yet. Truth told, I really only went to see how sweary Malcolm Tucker would be allowed to be on the big screen.

Already fans of 'The Thick of It' as I'm sure anyone with a passing interest in politics is too, 'In the Loop' was as fab as I'd hoped. Thankfully un-hyped, to the point where we had to search for a cinema showing it, you have to go. If it's not on your must-see list, put it firmly at the top, it's worth the effort.

I don't want to spoil it too much. There are too many good jokes to mention and as with all of these things, it's great writing and great casting that makes it. For the uniniated, take a look at Tucker's Law to get you in the mood. As someone who until she had a kid listed 'swearing' as one of her hobbies on her web profile, you can see why I'm squarely in the target market. Luckily all the laughing didn't induce labour but my sides really hurt this morning and you don't get a a better review than that.

Now repeat after me: come the f*ck in, or f*ck the f*ck off...

Lucy

Define 'Ready'...

It's interesting what different people consider ready to mean. A friend asked yesterday if I had everything sorted out for the baby. By this she meant hospital bag packed, car seat fitted, list of emails/phone numbers given to Gav, that kind of thing. Just in case anything happened before next Thursday, as you never know. Babies come when they want to etc etc.

I had to stop for a minute as I said 'yes, well, no but yes'. In my own way, I'm entering a state of readiness. By this I mean:

• I've dyed my hair. Yet another ginger/strawberry blonde experience, I'll be glad when this 3-for-2 dye is finished.
• I've been to the dentist and had my teeth polished. I'm sure the antenatal staff will be glad, nay, relieved to see that.
• I've painted my toenails. No mean feat, have you any idea how hard it is to do any sensible grooming below the waist with a bump this big?

Naturally the baby's room is complete, the washing all done and so on. I just have to work out how the pram/car seat/buggy combo fits together, order a big bag of cat food, buy Gracie some clothes and that's pretty much it.

I just haven't packed the bag yet because in my own head, it's not happening till next Thursday. But I'm ready, as you can tell...

Lucy

German Film Festival: The Wave

We watched yet another fab German film at the weekend - The Wave, obviously loosely based on the 1960s US experiment called 'the third wave' (gotta love Wikipedia) and I quote: "Jones (the teacher), unable to explain to his students how the German populace could claim ignorance of the extermination of the Jewish people, decided to show them instead. Jones started a movement called "The Third Wave" and convinced his students that the movement is to eliminate democracy."

What gets me is not that someone has made an intelligent, interesting film about this but that this was made in Germany by Germans.

This generation of film makers seem to be able - or at even want - to examine their shameful past history without flinching. Ref. Downfall, The Counterfeiters, The Wave. Which is what you're supposed to do, if you're to learn from it, but I'm not sure as Brits we would manage it in quite the same way. A small, sniffy (and rather pathetic) apology for the slave trade is one thing, making films that directly reflect your own grandparents rather gruesome deeds is quite another.

I'm not suggesting that the entire German nation is enlightened (they still like Hasselhoff, stone washed denim and mullets after all) but their artistic community is deliberately looking back with an unflinching eye. Gotta say, I admire them for it. And that's not something I ever expected to think about the Germans.

Rent it, see if you agree with me.

Lucy

Return of the prodigal blogger

Instead of working on the assumption that one never explains and never apologises, I've been away so long that I'd better tell you that work ate my life for 3.5 months. Couple that with being pregnant, and the available brain space to do anything of note apart from sleeping, eating and looking after the family has been minimal.

BUT no longer, today I start my maternity leave, so apart from minor details like having a baby (due to be delivered by c-section on 30 April), I'm all yours for the summer. In the meantime, here's a few highlights of the last three months:

1. I managed a huge product launch of 222 web pages in 6 languages that all went live in one go with no problems. Possibly the smoothest launch I've ever run, and def couldn't have done it without the fabulous Rhona Scott at our digital agency without whom etc etc.
2. Sir (aka 'yourfathertheb*stard') had a handbag duel with the Daily(ish) Millbrooker over some point of honour that I don't really understand. Even I felt a twinge of embarrassment and he's been doing this kind of thing all my life. No wonder my little brother is running away to join the navy...
3. I've had a surprisingly good pregnancy. Apart from the fact that sometimes I go to bed at the same time as Missy, and I keep getting told that the baby isn't as big as it's supposed to be, I've mostly been fine.

REALLY looking forward to tomorrow, the start of what's being called 'my confinement' when I plan to sit on my ever-expanding bum eating biscuits and watching old films on the telly until the big day. I may even attempt to bake some of my favourite biscuits, viennese fingers, depending on how the nesting urge takes me...

So expect some film reviews over the next couple of weeks along with maybe some pictures of misshapen biscuits. I bet you're all giddy with excitement now, aren't you?
Lucy

Settling in

It struck me the other day that I've said very little about how we're getting on 6 months after the big move. I'm starting to feel like I live here now.

Three things have occurred to make this happen:

1. We've made some friends which REALLY helps to make us feel settled. And this meant that new year was spent at a dinner party, as opposed to sitting on the sofa, with Dr G willing me not to fall asleep at 10pm. We were out till 2am. I can't remember the last time that happened (she said, ancient so-called party animal now sounding about 105 years old).

2. We keep bumping into kids in the village who smile and wave at Madam. This means I get a smile and a wave from the mum too. Sounds like a small thing, but that does help to make me feel welcome.

3. I bumped into Madam's nursery teacher at the gym last week and had a lovely chat about kid-free days.

That one was a bit odd as I'm not used to people I call 'miss' talking to me while semi-naked. What is the protocol for that kind of meeting? I looked firmly into her eyes and tried to hide my lady parts without looking uncomfortable. A bit daft really, as she's female and has two kids so very likely has seen lady parts before.

Anyway, all in all, Holmes Chapel is starting to feel more like home. Which is good, as the state of the economy and the size of our mortgage means it's going to be home for quite a few years to come. As everyone always says about getting settled, it's knowing people that makes a place.

I do hate sounding cliched, but they are cliches for a reason, aren't they?
Lucy

The Fog

Regular readers will know I was bewildered by my own keys a few month's ago and at least now I know why - being pregnant will do that to you. As it is, I'm now experiencing what I can only describe as my own weather pattern, mostly manifesting itself as an 'hormonal fog'. I'm relating it to pregnancy but again it could be another sign that old age is settling in for the duration.
This week it has exhibited itself in several delightful ways:

• COMPLETELY forgetting several conversations that myself and Dr G have had. Now they were a few month's ago but I'd be hard-pressed to say I was even in the room with him when we talked about it. You can imagine how delighted he was by that.


• Striding purposely upstairs to do something important, but losing the plot as soon as I reach the landing. Not just 'what was I wanting?' more 'why am I here again?'.


• Mentioning that we'd do make purple porridge to Madam then wondering why she was upset when I presented her with a bowl of porridge with blueberries, not purple porridge. I made her cry! It's true, I'm a crummy mummy. More on that later.


• Writing things down on a to do list (sensible) then losing the list (stupid!).

Safe to say it's nowhere near as bad as 'The Fog' (original book by James Herbert for those to remember him). I don't want to murder anyone - well, not yet anyway. Well, okay, not often. Though I did hear about a friend of a friend who's hormones turned her really psychotic and she accused all and sundry of sleeping with her husband. Pregnancy is such a delight.

Anyway, the wonderful She suggested a solution: how about a notepad and a pen on a string round my neck. When something is important, I can then write it down immediately and won't lose the note. Only problem is, I'd look like a mad old lady, like the one I used to see in London. So what's better - the hormonal fog or the old mad bag lady look?

Off to - oh god - I do know this, something to do with water...
Lucy